Suzanne Somers,
uber-blond gay icon, is many things: glitzy Vegas
showgirl, Master of Thighs, poet, Adult Child of an
Alcoholic, ubiquitous star of television schlock-coms
like She's the Sheriff and Step by Step,
not to mention her most famous role as ditzy
Chrissy Snow in the 1970s TV classic Three's
Company. Now the tireless glamour queen has
fashioned herself as a modern-day Mary Kay as creator
and promoter of Suzanne, a line of food, jewelry, and beauty
products that is being sold at intimate weekly parties
in homes across the country.
Hosted by
"independent Suzanne consultants" since October 2006,
the events are a decidedly contemporary take on the
Tupperware and Avon parties of yore. Misael Maldonado,
a gay man and longtime Suzanne fan, hosted such a
happening at the home of charter consultant Mark Paulk in
New York City earlier this year.
The eager queens,
fag hags, and the occasional straight couple at the
gathering started by sampling various food products,
including a pot roast prepared with Suzanne's Beef
Bourguignon Simmer Sauce and crudites with a
cilantro-and-lime dip. "I'll buy this dip. It's
delicious," said party guest Maria Vaccaro as
Paulk looked on proudly. Was Vaccaro at all influenced
by Somers's association with the creamy yogurt-based
concoction? "Well, I've always liked her--for
God's sake, she was Chrissy," she said, picking up an
order form. Paulk then demonstrated the creation of La
Somers's light and fluffy chocolate mousse. Total prep
time: three minutes.
When Maldonado
passed around glasses of white wine, the irony of the
chairwoman of the Association of Children of Alcoholics and
a woman voted ACOA of the year hawking an $18.99
cocktail mixer assortment went unnoticed by the crowd.
They were equally nonplused by the recent
controversies surrounding Somers's latest
book Ageless: The Naked Truth About
Bio-identical Hormones. "She's entitled to her
opinion," said guest Brian Barry, nibbling on celery
loaded with salsa dip. "I saw her on Larry King Live.
She was all fired up about her book and her beliefs.
Look, I don't think it has anything to do with her
products. Honey, this food is actually pretty
fierce."
In the beauty
segment of the evening, guests were introduced to Suzanne's
apple pectin mask and spray-on cosmetics (for when you want
to look lovely but simply don't have the time). The
partygoers were particularly spellbound when Paulk
demonstrated the Face Master. Using microcurrents of
electrical energy (nine-volt battery not included), the
gadget is supposed to stimulate and strengthen by
zapping face muscles, thus improving facial tone. With
blown-out, hyperretouched photos of the product's
creator beaming down at them from the wall, Paulk
demonstrated the device on volunteers from the party.
"Using the Face
Master is like sending your face to the gym,"
Maldonado said, quoting from the instructional DVD.
Carolina, the first guinea pig, grimaced slightly as
the slim wands were gently guided over her visage,
jolting her with low-level electricity. Later, she said
it was "painless and oddly refreshing." A few guests
were curious as to whether the Face Master could
be used on other, more erogenous body parts, something
not addressed in any of the promotional materials.
The Suzanne
business (motto: "Share the joy") is designed to be an
ever-growing entity, targeting freelancers, beauty and food
specialists, and stay-at-home moms as ambassadors.
Consultants, currently numbering around 1,000, are
encouraged to bring others into the fold. Aside from
income, incentives include exclusive hostess gifts, such as
a Maltese cross cuff bracelet or a hand-painted
violet chip-and-dip bowl.
"C'mon,
she looks damn good for her age," Maldonado said.
"The woman's been around for like 200 years.
She must be doing something right."
