Say it ain’t so. Tupperware, the emblematic plastic kitchen aids outfitter of Americana, is filing for bankruptcy. Multiple scrambles to plan for the very last Tupperware Parties must be taking place all across America and the globe. This loss is akin to never getting to eat Jell-O again or, worse, having to go shoeless without Converse’s Chuck Thompson sneakers or having to wipe our noses without a Kleenex.
The pending Tupperware bankruptcy may not exactly be a national catastrophe, but America will be left with an empty hole to fill even if we still have plenty of replacement generic plastic kitchen containers and other leftover food solutions.
We might be losing the Tupperware company but the word Tupperware can never be erased from our modern dictionaries and vocabulary can it? I mean, what do you call your plastic food containers? Is there any other name besides Tupperware?
Since its inception in 1946, Tupperware has been more than a homemaker’s friend. It’s “burp and seal” lids and durable physique are melded into our American daily routines. Founder Earl Tupper helped shape our post-World War II lifestyle of convenience and comfort. Try to imagine how many billions of leftover food portions Tupper should get credit for. A pantry without a stack of waiting empty Tupperware containers is no pantry at all.
Few things typify mid 20th century America as much as a set of Tupperware containers. During all the Baby Boomer years, it was guaranteed that one or more of the wrapped gifts at a bridal shower would be a nested set of Tupperware. Even today, you can’t find a yard sale without some well-used pieces. Tupperware bowls never wore out before you lost the tops or someone brutally used a container to hold paint or abused it for some other non-kitchen chore.
Times were you could always trace your whereabouts back to the family reunion or potluck where you forgot your Tupperware. It always made a good excuse for a return visit — if you wanted one.
But, after almost a decade of tough business, the current owners of Tupperware filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy on Sept. 17. Still based in Orlando, Florida, Tupperware Brands Corporation declared debts of $811.8 million against declining revenues that were reported to be $1.1 billion in 2023. The only manufacturing plant remaining in the United States, in South Carolina, is now being shut down.
Tupperware has 5,450 employees in 41 countries. It also has 465,000 independent sales consultants who represent the heart, brain and muscle of the iconic kitchen essential.
Party Plan Marketing
Earl S. Tupper was working in 1938 as a chemical engineer for DuPont in Delaware when he founded upon a secondary use for polyethylene slag, a waste product from the oil refining process. Tupper purified the black, icky slag and molded it into opaque lightweight, non-breakable containers. More importantly, he mastered a design for airtight and liquid proof lids, the famous “burping seal” patent that eventually made Tupper a millionaire many times over.
But Tupperware is probably equally famous for its Tupperware parties, a direct-to-consumer marketing platform. After being unsuccessful selling his new invention in retail stores, Tupper luckily stumbled across a Florida housewife who was ordering and selling hundreds of dollars of Tupperware sets each month.
Brownie Wise was a recently separated wife struggling to make extra income while staying close to home with her very ill son. She borrowed from a “party plan” sales technique previously used by the Fuller Brush Company. Tupper hired Wise to organize a national network of housewives to hold Tupperware Parties.
The Tupperware parties became a cultural fixture in neighborhoods, extended families, church groups and in cities and towns of all sizes. The popular parties became known as a “Girls Night In.” Housewife hosts were recruited by Wise and her Orlando-based staff and the parties also featured games, festive headwear and lots of perks and discounts for the hosts.
The parties were both lauded and criticized for being either “liberating” or “exploitational.” The burgeoning feminist movement of the time did not know whether to claim the Tupperware women as independent entrepreneurs or to pan it all as a new form of forced housewife domesticity.
Wise became the face of Tupperware and in 1954 was the first woman ever featured on the cover of Business Week magazine. By the middle of the following decade, it was estimated that 90 percent of all American households owned at least one piece of Tupperware. But Tupper had a falling out with Wise and fired here in 1958 and sold his company to Rexall Drug Company before buying it back several years later and then selling to a large international corporate holding company, the present owners.
Tupper was probably a better chemist than a business entrepreneur. An associate at the time said Tupper was “good at product, but bad at people.” He never diversified his offerings and did not attempt new forms of marketing or advertising. When he died in 1983, his patents became unprotected and hundreds of generic knock-off companies rushed into the market.
The Tupperware brand and name fell victim to what is called “genericization,” a similar fate suffered by Kleenex, Aspirin, Jell-O, Cellophane and X-acto blades, among other products.
Several decades before e-Bay, WayFair or Etsy, the Tupperware party model was adopted by many other direct sales marketers, employing stay-at-home moms as “associates” and “hosts.” Some of the plans were structured into multi-level “pyramid” schemes, something Tupperware never adopted.
These direct sales and party plan companies have well-recognized names and reputations. Among hundreds, some of the more successful ones were Avon (cosmetics), Amway (housecleaning products and vitamins), Mary Kay Cosmetics and Shaklee nutritional supplements.
Tupperware parties were popular because of the socializing and entertainment. But even more popular for awhile were the “sex toy” parties sponsored by Pure Romance, a multi-level marketing company founded in 1993 and first named Slumber Parties by founder Patty Brisben. At one point, Pure Romance had 30,000 “consultants” before converting to an online retail operation in 2023.
Can you imagine a bigger marketing success than if Tupperware and Pure Romance had merged? We doubt that Earl Tupper’s company would be facing bankruptcy now if thousands or millions of women were still hosting sales parties for kitchen leftovers and bedroom bliss, — all in one afternoon’s sales order.
In 2004, filmmaker Laurie Kahn made a documentary, “Tupperware!” that was narrated by actress Kathy Bates, and underwritten by Public Broadcast System’s American Experience. Still viewable online, PBS calls it a “ funny, thought-provoking film (that) reveals the secret behind Tupperware’s success: the women of all shapes, sizes, and backgrounds who discovered they could move up in the world without leaving the house.”
But, now it seems a final chapter for Tupperware is about to be written — or maybe not. Chapter 11 bankruptcies do not always end in the total demise of a company. It is possible there may be a Tupperware savior just over the horizon. Stay tuned.
Meanwhile, we should all take inventory of our a pantries for any “burping lid” containers we still possess. After all, even an empty Tupperware bowl can be full of memories.
— Rollie Atkinson
9-25-2024
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You really went down the rabbit hole with this one but it was quite interesting. 🧐
I think those are Chuck Taylor sneakers and I just bought my first pair. BTW, I've never been to a Tupperware party but I still have some great containers.