My best friend is selling Avon. I guess I've not looked at an Avon book in forever and boy! All I can say is this is not your mother's Avon catalog. They sell lots of stuff now.
Thinking of Avon brought back childhood memories that make me smile. Much to my mother's dismay, who is quite prissy, I was never a girly little girl. I loved to climb trees and play The Lone Ranger on my bike with the boys in the neighborhood but even I couldn't resist the Avon Lady. That was back in the day when she visited door to door. Our Avon Lady wore outfits of pastel colors, dressy outfits as if she were headed to church. She had high heel shoes to perfectly match everyone of those outfits. In the winter time they were suits, skirts and jackets. In Spring they were frilly dresses with lace and eyelet and all that girly stuff. And she smelled like blooming flowers. Her hair was blond but styled like that of "That Girl" which was a popular TV show at that time, and her name was Miss Gladys. She called me "suga" (a very southern way of saying sugar which kids were called sometimes) and she'd see me outside and say, "Suga, run tell Mama I'm here with her order." My mother would tell me to invite her in and she'd fix them both a glass of ice tea while Miss Gladys brought in her case and sat at the couch. She carefully opened that case and laid out some new products on the coffee table to show my mother and then she'd open this little case of sample lipsticks and let me pick out one. I loved the names of them and as the boys yelled outside wanting me to come back to play; for a little moment I got lost in the land of "Strawberry Creams, Pink Bouquets" & Perfect Plums." And I sat in Awe of Miss Gladys. I'd soon get bored with the grown-up talk and gossiping(which a big part of the Avon Ladie's visit) and I'd run to my room to hide the little lipstick sample in a special box and I'd head out to the beckoning of the other kids, but not before Miss Gladys said, "Bye Suga, you be sweet now." A little while later she'd leave and go to the next door.
Who knew a little Avon Book could cause all of that to surface from my soul. I wonder what else I've got buried in there.