Tupperware is in financial trouble. My mother and the other ladies who had all those parties at their homes to sell the plastic containers are gone now, so the company might not make it.
A fellow named Earl Tupper came up with the idea in the late 1940s for the bowls, boxes and canisters that were used for storing and serving foods.
That was a revolutionary invention for housewives in those days who had become accustomed to keeping leftovers in the refrigerator in glass bowls and pans, dinner plates and things like that.
They tried to cover the food with wax paper and aluminum foil, but that was not anywhere near airtight. You could just open the refrigerator—or the icebox as my parents called it—and determine if there had been fried chicken or meatloaf for supper.
For the seven decades or so since it was invented, Tupperware has served an important purpose.
The lids fit securely to keep ingredients sealed, and all those plastic containers came in a wide variety of colors. It was easy to remember that the egg salad was in the blue bowl and the leftover butterbeans were in the red container.
Other companies got in on the plastic container business. Glad, Rubbermaid and brands like that sold food containers like Tupperware and all those plastic bags with zippers.
They advertised on television and sold the products in stores and online. Folks selling Tupperware at house parties and door-to-door couldn’t compete.
Income from Tupperware products is sinking. One report said Tupperware shares are at $2.60 compared to $96 a few years ago. Even those of us who don’t dabble in the stock market understand that’s bad news for the company.
All through my growing up years, my mother and other women would get together at different houses in our neighborhood to let the local Tupperware saleslady peddle her products.
When those sessions ended, we usually had a bunch of new bowls to store things in the refrigerator, and other ladies left the meetings loaded down with Tupperware.
The company seemed to keep coming up with different stuff. There were plastic pitchers for sweet tea, big round containers with handles to carry cakes to church dinners and cannisters for flour, sugar and such.
My dad even switched from the big pickle jars that he used for ice water on his fishing trips to a new Tupperware jug that wouldn’t break when it got bounced around in the boat.
Home sales parties were not unusual back then. An Avon lady lived down the street from us, and there were gatherings pretty often around the neighborhood for her to keep local women supplied with perfume, lipstick, powder and other beauty products.
Even if we were off at school, we could tell when we got home if there had been an Avon party at our house. The whole place smelled like a perfume factory, and my mother—who didn’t usually wear much makeup—was painted like a circus clown.
My mother must have been a soft touch for the home sales people. Our house seemed to be one of the most popular spots for Tupperware and Avon parties.
Neighborhood ladies were also invited to demonstrations and sales pitches for vacuum cleaners, stainless steel cookware, World Book encyclopedias and other products.
We had unusual meals the nights they were at the house selling pots and pans. The sales people would make things like steamed broccoli and brussels sprouts and leave all that food with the host. We were not accustomed to such fancy fare.
My brother and I just hoped there would be some chocolate chip cookies, tuna salad and Jell-O with chunks of fruit in it left over from the refreshments my mother served.
We hated it when she refrigerated those things in Tupperware. No matter how much she cleaned them, the plastic storage bowls seemed to retain a little flavor of whatever was in it before.
After the Tupperware was around for a while, Jell-O and leftover squash always had the faint taste of tuna salad or steamed broccoli.
That might be what caused the company’s financial problems.
REPRINTED FROM THE NATCHITOCHES TIMES