Fancy a linen party?

Marieclaire my 3rd sister SMS’d me the other day, inviting Kim to a linen party on a Tuesday night in suburban Kingsbury. As a man who loves his Manchester, I called a day later to say we’d both be coming over. I got a followup phonecall from my mother a day later suggesting we go, to “help make up the numbers a bit”. I didn’t realise, but like Tupperware or lingerie parties, the host needs to make a target amount of dollars in sales to get a free gift, or a discount on their own purchases, so Mum was doing some background lobbying. On the night, we took a bottle of cheap red and took our seats amongst about 8 women (including my mum) in the tiny loungeroom, facing in a horseshoe towards a self assured lady in her twenties, whose name I can’t remember. It felt incredibly lower-middle class to hear her make references like “these sheets will feel 100% better than the ones in your glory-box”. Wow. Do girls still have those? She showed off the fabrics – mainly doona covers, towels and pillowcases – and admittedly there were some good prices, though I didn’t think the quality was fantastic. Nothing over 280 threadcount, and most was polycotton of some sort. There were some good tips about how to keep your towels soft and fluffy (only wash in cold water and don’t use fabric softener), and there was much oohing over some soft throw-rugs and strange rug with pockets that you wear in front of the tv. We bought a few bits and pieces and the party made over the quota of $500. I think M.C was buying a not-too-feminine doona cover that Dave could tolerate.