The Avon Lady: “Ding Dong, Avon Calling”

A teen boy struggles with a feminine side that he is trying to understand is befriended by a sympathetic Avon Lady that may have had the same struggles when she was younger. Marci wants David to have an easier time getting answers to embarrassing questions; answers about gender identity issues, answers that could make his life easier.

Prologue

The 1960s were so different from current times. Bakery trucks cruise neighborhoods for the convenience of customers; door-to-door sales people plied their wares. And then there were Avon Ladies that brought makeup and more to your front door. There were always catalogs. A boy could only learn so much from catalogs even the famous 600 page Sears & Roebuck catalog. There was no internet or cell phones in 1966.

Questions and research involved libraries and librarians. There was no safe place for a youngster to get non-judgmental answers to delicate or potentially embarrassing questions; to find out if there were other boys that had desires like you. Where could you go to find out how to tuck and hide a penis in order to look more femme? How do you make fake breasts from birdseed and old nylons? What is my dress size? How do you convert shoe sizes? Is it OK to be me? Am I crazy? There were important questions that never got asked. Where, in 1966, could a person anonymously go for information about very personal subjects? That’s not an issue now. Just don’t forget that there was no internet or cell phones in 1966.

June 1966

It was my summer school break between 10th and 11th grade. I had painted my toe nails a bright red the moment Mom had left for work. After they dried I dressed in a powder blue blouse with a Peter Pan collar, blue French cut panties, Sapphire Blue nylon tap pants, a matching camisole, and tan lace top thigh high stockings as I usually did during the work week. The tap pants, camisole and thigh highs were mine; the other items were my mom’s.

My shoulder length shaggy blonde hair could be quickly coiffed into a cute feminine style. In fact I had been back-combing and teasing my hair to create feminine styles since last summer; Aqua Net hairspray kept it looking pretty. Mom never got home before 6 PM which gave me lots of time to experiment with cosmetics, lingerie, and hair and still have time to shower and revert back to looking like a boy.

I had applied my favorite red lipstick and was admiring my girly image in mom’s vanity mirror. I was trying to decide which of my mother’s skirts or dresses I’d wear today. Black 3 inch high heels were waiting for me nearby. I was giddy with anticipation. And then the doorbell rang. It was 11 AM.

I cautiously peered through the curtained bedroom window and saw an attractive young woman standing at the front door. She had shoulder length brown hair with a pretty flower hair clip, gold hoop earrings and was wearing a very cute blue sundress with a matching long sleeve jacket that made for a professional image. I noticed she was wearing open toed sling back heels.

The woman was holding a sample case and several booklets. “Oh, crap!” I thought. A door to door saleslady was interfering with my fun. I would make short work of her interference by taking her brochures and sending her on her way.

Startled but not unprepared I quickly pulled my denim skinny jeans over my nylon clad legs just as I had planned to do months ago for an emergency like this. I mentally congratulated myself for being so well prepared and clever. I buttoned my blouse to hide my camisole, wiped my lips with a facial tissue and headed for the front door.

Opening the front door a little bit I asked, “How can I help you?”

“My name is Marci and I’m your Avon Lady. I sell very reasonably priced cosmetics, jewelry and bath products in the privacy of your home. I deliver the products direct to your door. I wanted to introduce myself and leave you free samples and a catalog that you can order from.” She made a point of making eye contact and emphasized, “No one would know that you had ordered makeup and lipstick.” I nodded as I grasped her intent. “No one would know.” I repeated.

Free cosmetic samples? Marci had my attention. I opened the front door wider. We were separated by a screen door. I saw that she had a medium sized white paper bag that held samples. The bag had ‘Avon’ emblazoned on it.

Marci was indicating that she wanted to hand me her bag of goodies to me. I opened the screen door and before I could take her bag she stepped into the house. She scrutinized me from head to toe, handed me the bag and asked, “What’s your name, Precious?” She smiled at me and my obvious eagerness to receive free cosmetics. I automatically replied, “My name is David.” I immediately recognized my mistake; I felt the blood drain from my face and my knees felt weak. I was not as clever as I had thought.

“Perhaps we should sit down. You appear to need a rest” Marci tactfully said. We sat on the nearby living room sofa. Taking the sample bag from my hand she said, “Your hands are shaking. Take a few deep breaths, sit back, relax and let me show you how Avon can help you look prettier than you already are Sweetie. You’ll be fine.”

My mind was swirling with the consequences of having been discovered looking so girly. It was my worst nightmare.

I did as instructed. I closed my eyes, leaned back and tried to compose myself. As I sat with my eyes closed Marci continued. “David, your hair looks very nice. Did anyone help you?”

“I did it all by myself” I quietly replied.

“Your choice of hairstyle is very impressive; how long have you been feminizing your hair?”

“I started last summer. I read teen beauty magazines and use a lot of hairspray.”

“Your hair is long enough and if your mother has hot rollers you should give them a try. You’ll be amazed on what a nice tight roll of curlers can do for a girl… or boy. With your experience you’d do a fine job. It’s quick and washes away in the shower.”

I exhaled and opened my eyes. Marci was giving me suggestions on how to look feminine. I was beginning to feel a lot better. Marci placed her hand on my knee and gave it a friendly rub. She smiled and said, “I feel nylon stockings under your pants. Nylons make your pants slide around differently than if your legs were bare.”

I managed a weak smile and said, “Yes. I’m wearing thigh high stay ups. I like the way they make me feel when my legs rub together.”

Marci chuckled softly and pointed at my toes. “Sweetie, I saw your nylons the moment I stepped through the door. I also say your red toenails through the toes of your stockings. You really should be more careful. I doubt that your mom would approve.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “I should have put shoes or socks on before I came to the door. What a dope I am!”

“Socks would not have hidden your obvious lipstick stains or your girly hair.” I involuntarily touched my teased and hair sprayed hair. I had totally forgotten about it. I dropped my hands in defeat. I had messed up twice.

Reaching into my sample bag Marci showed me a small bottle labeled ‘Makeup Remover’. “You need to use a good remover like this.” She removed the top, took a sniff and put a small amount on a facial tissue before passing it to me to smell. “That smells very nice,” I said.

Marci said “Tighten your lips as if you were about to apply your lipstick.” Leaning forward she tenderly applied the remover to my stained lips and gently rubbed them. Leaning back Marci showed me the red residue I had failed to wipe off before I opened the front door. I perked up and began to take an interest in what Marci was saying.

As Marci unzipped her sample kit she asked, “So, David, what grade are you in?” She withdrew several items as she spoke.

“I’ll be entering eleventh grade Miss. I’ll be 16 soon” I bragged.

“Please, call me Marci, OK?” I nodded an OK.

Marci passed me an oval hand mirror and a tissue. “This purse mirror is a special gift for special customers. When you wear lipstick and stockings do you feel special Precious?” I whispered “Yes, I feel special.” Marci never reacted to my confession and continued her instructions. “Put a small amount of remover on the tissue like I did and finish removing your lipstick.” I did as I was instructed. The remover worked very well.

Marci:”Since we girls are talking about lipstick let me give you a few tips. You are a fair skinned blonde with hazel eyes. Certain colors look good with your complexion and some colors don’t; pinkish red or coral lipstick would look best on you. The color you were wearing when I came in is not your best option. We can do better.”

“What about shades of Peach,” I blurted out. I felt I had to ask.

Smiling prettily Marci said, “Yes, Sweetie, Peach would work too. That’s why I’m leaving you a sample kit… so you can see what colors work for you. Fifteen little sample tubes of fifteen different shades. I’m sure you’ll find the colors that look best on you. If nothing else I know you will enjoy trying them all.” I nodded and said, “Thank you.” Fifteen shades of lipstick coming my way! Free.

“In fact I want you to pick one of the lip colors right now and use your new purse mirror to put it on while I watch. Choose a color you’ll wear for the rest of the day. OK, Sweetie?” Marci asked.

I quickly selected Rose Mist. “Can I go to my vanity to put it on?” I asked. “No. Be a girl and use your mirror. You need the practice.” I did as instructed and with little effort my lips were pretty again. Marci gave me two thumbs up. I puckered my lips at her and smiled. “Thank you Marci” I said. I was feeling very good about my day and about Marci. I took off my blouse and laid it on the back of the sofa. I wanted Marci to see my camisole.

“That’s a cute cami Sweetie. The color looks good on you. I can make you even cuter if you want. Would you mind if I added a bit of blush to your cheeks?”

“That would be very nice.” My heart was racing.

Marci began, “I’m going to use a liquid blush because it hydrates your skin. You use your finger tips to apply it, be sure to blend it in. You should try my liquid makeup sometime. They work well together.” Marci quickly gave my cheeks much needed color. It made a distinct difference when I checked my face with my new mirror. The scent was pleasant.

“You’re looking a bit more girly, eh? Do you like it? Are you feeling special, Precious?”

“I love it!” I exclaimed. “I hope I can look as pretty as you.” I felt a lump in my crotch beginning to make itself known. Marci calls it a ‘boy-bump’. I was feeling very alert.

“I need to get to my next customer but before I go there’s a few more cosmetics that a young girl like you need to experience.”

Reaching into her sample case Marci retrieved a tube of mascara. Holding it up like a candle Marci said, “This is a girl’s best friend. Pay attention. I’m going to do one of your eyes and then you will apply it to your other eye. The object is to make your eyes stand out and look pretty in a girly way. The mascara is applied with a wand… a round brush that coats and separates your lashes. If you want bolder lashes you apply another coat. Eyelash clumps and crotch bumps are bad.” We both knew what she was referring to.

Marcia gentle grabbed my chin and pulled me closer. Her subtle perfume made me smile. She carefully stroked all my lashes, the upper and the lower, and asked me to close my eyes. She gently blew on my lashes to make the mascara dry more quickly. She loaded up the applicator wand again, had me open my eyes and applied a second coat. I automatically closed my eyes as my lashes were blown dry. The results were deliciously feminine!

Without saying anything Marci passed me the mascara. I did what needed to be dome. Marci gently blew on my lashes. I squirmed and I smiled. Marci smiled too.

“There’s one more step to using mascara; you must curl your lashes. Look straight ahead and don’t blink.” Marci used an eyelash curler and crimped my right lashes; they looked more upswept and pretty. I heard Marci softly counting. When she was done and without being told I took the curler from her hand and used it on my left lashes. “Keep crimping but count to five before you release; it makes them curl better. Never be in a hurry.” After doing as Marci said I used the curler on my original eye and counted to five. I handed the curler back to Marci. “Good girl!” she praised. “Someday we need to let you experience false eyelashes. We need to add that to our list.”

Our list!

Marci popped open what looked like a makeup compact. There were 4 colors of eye shadow and a small sponge applicator. “Close your eyes Sweetie” Marci instructed. As soon as I had closed them she quickly applied a subtle, but noticeable, smoky grey eye shadow to my lids. She blew any dust residue off my lids. “You can open your eyes. You would benefit from eyeliner but we’ll save that thrill for another day.”

I was happy.

“I’m going to use an eyebrow pencil to define your eyebrows and give them a nice feminine arch. No one will see ‘boy’ when they look at you. You’ll notice the difference. It easily comes off with my makeup remover but only if you remember to use it! You don’t want your mom reminding you to remove your eye makeup, do you?” I solemnly shook my head ‘no’.

Grabbing my chin to stabilize my head I closed my eyes and felt Marci take turns penciling and accenting my brows. It didn’t take long. I knew she was finished when the stroking stopped. Marci was still holding my chin but was doing nothing. I opened my eyes and found Marci staring at me. She had a wistful look on her face. “Is anything wrong?” I asked.

“No, Precious, there’s nothing wrong.” She continued holding my chin and I sensed that I was about to be kissed. I was hoping she would. There was something about her that infatuated me… it was like we were kindred spirits. I wanted to be kissed by her.

Marci leaned in, as if for a kiss, but stopped. Instead she placed the soft palm of her hand on my left cheek and gently stroked it with her thumb. The sensation was better than a kiss. Marci was looking at me in an almost motherly way. It was touching to see. I thought I saw tears forming. “You make such a beautiful girl” she whispered. She pulled me to her and hugged me. She pressed my head to her bosom and slowly rocked us. The soft cushion of her breasts felt nice. I closed my eyes and hugged her tightly. I felt safe and secure; I felt accepted. I definitely wasn’t sad but I began to softly cry. So did Marci; I could feel her lightly sobbing. She stroked my hair and held my head in a motherly way as we swayed and softly cried. At that moment I didn’t have a care in the world.

I can’t recall how long we held each other. I do know it wasn’t long enough. Marci stopped swaying, took a few deep breaths and slowly pulled away. Using a tissue she blotted away my tears and then her own. As we looked at each other she smiled, leaned forward and gave me a soft but prolonged kiss on my lips. I could taste her lipstick. I thought I would faint. Marci tried to break our kiss but I kept her from leaving. I pulled her closer and kissed her in the same way she had kissed me. It was a magical moment for me.

Marci gave my head a last rub and stood up. “Let’s go check you out at your vanity, shall we?” I stood up, grabbed her hand and we walked to my vanity. The visual impact for me was stunning; I looked like a pretty woman; a dream had come true. I was so excited I felt like I was vibrating.

Using my thumbs and forefingers I grabbed the front of my camisole and tented it outward to simulate having breasts. Marci smiled and said, “Precious, don’t worry. There are ways to get the chest bumps you want. If I were you I’d be more concerned about the boy-bump I’ve seen in your crotch. It ruins your girly image. Always maintain the illusion of femininity. No bumps!”

While we held hands and stared at the vanity mirror Marci softly said, “I think I’ve done things for you today that would have taken you years for to experience or accept. Now I want you to do something for me, Sweetie. OK?”

“Marci, you’ll never know how grateful I am. I can clearly see my inner girl that I’ve been worried about for a long time. I like her. What can I do for you?”

“Take off your jeans.”

I hesitated for a very brief moment. I was glad she would see my tap pants and stockings. I found myself holding Marci’s hand, staring into a large mirror, wearing makeup, lingerie and a girl’s hairstyle. I saw a beautiful young girl holding hands with another pretty girl. It was a beautiful and thrilling thing to see. It gave me the boy-bump Marcia had mentioned.

“Baby doll, do you remember when I first arrived that I asked you what your name was?”

“Yes, I do. It seems like such a long time ago.”

“And what was your reply? What did you say your name was?”

“David.”

“Look into the mirror Sweetie. Do you see David there? Of course not! You need a new name… a femme name. Have you chosen a forever femme name for the pretty girl in the mirror? How would you like to be called?”

I hadn’t thought about having a femme name. “Give me a minute please, Marci.”

I dropped her hand and went to the vanity. I picked up my styling comb and teased a few errant strands of hair. As I was giving my hair a spray of AquaNet an idea came to me. I walked over to my mom’s closet and pulled out her black and white print short sleeved V-neck Twist Front A-Line mini-dress…a little twist at the bust enhanced the bust line. I stepped into it and pulled the sleeves over my shoulders. I made sure my tap pants didn’t bunch up. I broke into a coy smile. I sat at the vanity and put on the 3 inch pumps I had laid out this morning. They slipped easily onto my nylon covered feet.

I stood and walked back to where Marci was standing. “Please zip me up Marci” I demurely asked. I turned my back to her. She zipped me up and gave my pantied butt a friendly rub. I stepped in front of the mirror. Marci joined me. I felt a stirring in my crotch again. It was truly a good day.

“Aside from your boy-bump that mini-dress, nylons and heels shows off your pretty legs. You may need to start shaving them soon. Your thigh highs stockings are nice but for the ultimate feminine feel you need to experience the thrill a sexy garter belt and stockings will give you. The tug of the garters constantly reminds you that you’re wearing stockings.”

Marci lifted her blue sundress just enough so I could see her how her garters attached to her stockings. “Take a close look Sweetie. See how they work.” I was mesmerized at the sight. “Please, feel the snugness of the garter. Give it a gentle tug.” I looked into Marci’s eyes for additional approval. She nodded and extended her leg. Her garter belt was the same pale blue as my blouse.

It was a blissful moment when I felt the top of Marci’s stocking. I got down on my knees and closely inspected how the garter clip attached to the stocking. I took the clip between my thumb and finger. A pretty pink bow was at the end of each garter strap as decoration. I traced her garter strap upwards and gave it a gentle tug. I felt the snugness. I’m sure my eyes glazed over. “Wow” was all I could manage to say. I remained on my knees.

“Now you know about garter straps but there’s more. I don’t do this for just anybody but I want you to see how pretty the rest of my garter belt is.” Marci pulled her sundress much higher. I was treated to the exquisite beauty of her entire garter belt and her panties. The intricate lace design of her garter belt was amazing. I saw how the garter straps attached to her stockings and how they were positioned. It was a magnificent learning experience I would never forget.

I timidly reached out and felt the tautness of the strap in the front and the strap in back. My hand and my face were inches from the most beautiful pair of Fire Engine Red silk panties I had ever seen. Marci emanated a delightful musky heat. Directly in front of me, framed by a pretty garter belt, two garter straps (and hidden behind beautiful satin panties) was a small but obvious boy-bulge. I was desperate to touch what I was seeing. My boy-bulge responded with an involuntary throb.

Seeing that I was apparently speechless and frozen in place Marci broke my trance by saying, “The belt hooks in the back just like a bra.” She pulled her leg back, lowered her sundress and smoothed the front. The moment was over. I was breathless. I vowed to experience the pleasure of wearing a garter belt as soon as I could.

I got to my feet and stood there looking perplexed. I was trying to shake off the vision of Marci’s panty bulge. I composed myself and in an effort to show genuine interest I blurted out, “Marci, should your panties go on first or last?”

“Sweetie, panties always go over your garters to make it easier to sit down and pee without having to unfasten your stockings. You slip your panties down, you sit, you pee, you blot yourself, you stand up, you pull your panties up and you’re good to go. No fussing with your stockings. Some garter belts have 4 straps and some have 6. Just make sure that your straps hang straight.” Marci was like having a big sister.

“Maybe I’ll bring you one the next time I stop by if you’re a good girl.” Marci hugged me for a long moment. She kissed me on the cheek and stood back. “You are too young to look so damn beautiful. I wish I had looked as pretty when I was a young boy.”

A young boy? A next time!? To say that I was surprised is understated. I was thrilled that there would be a next time. I would process the ‘when I was a young boy’ comment at a later time.

“It looks like you have a lot of experience walking in heels.”

“I’ve been wearing heels for a couple years. It began when mom asked me to break in her new shoes. You can’t wear pumps without nylons so mom bought me knee highs. I told mom I preferred thigh highs and she bought me several pair with lace tops. In fact she also bought me two camisole and tap pants sets when she bought my thigh highs. They were all in the same Macy’s bag she handed me. It was a nice surprise. The only thing mom said was “They were on sale.” Mom got her heels broken in and I got stockings and camis. I wore her heels around the house and when I watched TV.

“You seem to have a very supportive mother but how does your dad react?”

“Mom liked the way the heels made me walk and so did I. So I wear nylons, camis, tap pants and heels every chance I get. Dad passed away when I was only two years old.”

“What else do you wear when you want to feel special, Precious?”

“In addition to what I’ve already told you I like to wear half slips around the house like a skirt. Sometimes I wear panties, petty pants and thigh highs at the same time under my boy clothes. It feels so nice and slippery. It makes me feel naughty in a good way. It’s like I know a secret that no one else knows.”

“I agree that it gives a delightful sensation but not as memorable as wearing a garter belt and stockings. You’d be surprised to know how many boys and men wear pretty lingerie under their boy cloths. Did your mom encourage your girly nature in other ways?”

“Mom is a freelance seamstress for herself and friends. When she wanted to see if a dress hung right I’d be her model. If she had hems to sew I was her model. Dresses and skirts were my specialty. I wore heels so the hem would be level. Mom would mark and pin what needed to be done and I’d take the item off until she sewed it. I always left the heels on. After mom had sewn the project I’d have to put the skirt or dress back on to make sure it was correct.”

“Is there anything else?”

“After mom was sure everything was OK I’d sometimes remain in the dress and heels until bedtime. Mom never mentioned it.”

“Do you dress up for Halloween?”

“I sure do! Since I was 9 years old I’ve been dressing girly every year. And each year I get prettier. Being a seamstress mom always helped out and I get to keep what she makes. She’s already planning for this year. We have it narrowed down to Wizard of Oz Dorothy or an Old West Dance Hall Girl. Thanks to you I think I can pull it off.”

“I’d like to see you dress and present like a pretty young woman going on a date with her boyfriend. That would show the true feminine beauty that you have. You are definitely more girly than I expected and more girly than I was at your age.” Marci looked startled at what she had just revealed. Before I could process what she had just said she quickly asked, “Have you come up with a femme name?”

“I like when you call me Precious or Sweetie but I want Stacy for my femme name” I said. I was smiling widely.

“Then Stacy it is!”

Still in my heels we walked back to the living room and Marci prepared to leave. I sat down, smoothing my dress under me. As she packed I made a point of using my new mirror to reapply my Rose Mist lipstick. I know she had noticed. She smiled, winked and blew me a kiss.

“Open the gift bag I gave you Stacy.” I did. Marci deposited a few more items in my bag. “I’m treating you to the mascara, mascara remover and some moisturizer. You’ll need to use mom’s lash curler until you get your own. Be sure to clean it after you use it, right? After I leave, be sure to store your cosmetics in a safe place in case it matters to your mom. I have a feeling that she won’t mind that you have cosmetics of your own.”

“I’m leaving your mom a different sample bag and a catalog of her own. If she orders products I’ll credit some of her free gifts to you. I know your colors.”

“I’ll be back every week during summer at the same day and time. We’ll discuss and practice eye shadows, eye liner, eyebrow shaping and anything else you may want to know or experience. Make sure that Pretty Stacy greets me looking as girly as possible. I want her wearing the proper shade of nail polish and lipstick. A different hairstyle would be nice. Show me what you can do.”

I nodded my head in the affirmative.

“If you can find your mother’s hot rollers I’d like to show you how to use them. You may want to ask her to demonstrate on you how they work. She might surprise you. If she doesn’t I will. See if you can find a suitable bra or I may have to take you on a quick shopping trip to a special store that loves to help boy’s like you look girly. I know they have many bras in your size. They also have nice garter belts.” My heart skipped a beat at the prospect. Marci continued “You also need a good panty girdle hide your boy-bulge I saw tenting out today. In fact you had better get two because you’ll need to wash it frequently. That lump will get you in trouble.”

I nodded my head in the affirmative.

“If you are bulging and tenting then you are also leaking. No one can help it. Leaking comes with the territory. If you don’t want to spoil your lingerie and dresses you need a moisture barrier from those accidents. You need to buy yourself ultra thin Lite Day panty liners. You peel and stick them into the front of your panties; anywhere where you have leakage. Give yourself the mental image of your mom finding your nasty stains on her cute mini you’re wearing. Panty liners are cheap insurance. Just be careful where you dispose of them. Don’t give mom the surprise of finding a panty shield or wrapper in your trash. You are not as clever of a girl as you think you are, right?” I nodded yes.

“You also need to start thinking about accessories like bracelets, necklaces, hair berets and clips, earrings, etc. I think a cute anklet would add to Stacy’s cuteness. David could secretly wear it when Stacy was not around; thigh highs, panties and an anklet under your jeans! It would be a bit risky but it would also be very exciting? Some boys and men find wearing such things erotic. It makes them feel special like you. What do you think?”

“It most definitely does.”

Marci had all of her things and was about to leave.

Still wearing mom’s mini dress I held the front door open for her. “May I have your phone number, Marci?” She stopped and set her things down. She picked up my hand and smiled. “No, Stacy. I don’t think that would be a good thing right now. Let’s see how the next few weeks go first, OK Sweetie?”

I nodded in agreement.

Marci removed the flower hair clip from her hair and fastened it in my hair. She lovingly moved a wayward strand of my hair behind my ear like an older sister, or mother, would do. She hugged me and gave me a sensuous goodbye kiss. “You did very well today Precious. You look so fine. If you were older I’d take you for a drive and get a bite to eat. Take care, baby doll. I’ll see you next week.” And with that she left. I watched her go to the neighbors across the street. I watched her ring their doorbell and I watched her go in. Mrs. Thomas was home. It was 1:00 PM.

I closed the door, picked up my mom’s Avon catalog and gift bag and placed them in the center of our dining table for mom to find. I hoped she’d order something. I knew I would.

Going back to the sofa I picked up my Avon catalog, sat down, kicked off my heels and crossed my legs in a lady like fashion. I nonchalantly began flipping through my catalog.

My mind was subconsciously processing all that had transpired today. ‘An Avon Lady had discovered me dressed as a girl and didn’t freak out. The Avon Lady gave me free cosmetics and beauty tips. I saw and touched the Avon Lady’s garter belt! The Avon Lady had hugged and kissed me. The Avon Lady had a boy-bump! And most importantly the Avon Lady would be back in seven days.’

I vowed that Stacy would look very pretty when the Avon Lady returned. Maybe I’d wear a sundress like Marci was wearing today or perhaps a cute jumper. I need to find a different hairstyle and I knew where mom kept her hot rollers; I had a week to practice! I wanted to look and feel special for Marci.

I smiled when I considered that Marci wasn’t just ‘the Avon Lady’ Marci was MY Avon lady! And, perhaps, maybe Marci would also be my big sister. She definitely was my first love. For being 14 years old I realized that I was a very lucky girl. I had much to learn.

A line mini skirt that I wore

Free lipstick samples

My petty pants

My pink tap pants

Post script

I just posted The Avon Lady # 2 on August 24, 2020 twenty days after posting this story. I worked hard to keep it fairly PG rated. I can envision a darker Avon Lady #3 perhaps in the future. However we MUST first find a solution to a dilemma that Stacy got tangled in in Avon Lady #2. Can you help Stacy? -

Dee

“Avon ladies were the first conglomeration of American women to be financially independent with a respectable profession. They might not have had the right to vote, but they could bring cosmetics and household goods to the living room.”
“Flourishing in the house wares market, the California Perfume Company changed its name to Avon in 1939, after a product line named in honor of Shakespeare. As the decades progressed, Avon stopped offering the cookbooks and furniture polish, focusing solely on the cosmetics and jewelry.”

https://nostalgiacentral.com/pop-culture/fads/avon-ladies/

“Ding-Dong, Avon Calling” ad campaign ran from 1954 through 1967, making it one of the longest-running and most successful ad campaigns in history. Beauty is more than skin deep. Offering a free gift in exchange for a moment of the potential customer’s time was a brilliant idea. Avon Mini Bullet Lipsticks were often one the free give gifts. Avon also sold jewelry and unique shaped bottles of product.

Personal experience

For me the Avon Lady was a source of much joy. She made it easier for me to experiment with a variety of cosmetics; something I never would have been able to do as frequently as I did without her free samples.

Do any readers have an Avon comment or story to share? Please post them. I’m curious if any of us old girls read these stories. Thanks!

Regards,

Dee