Let’s get one thing straight: I have a deep appreciation for leggings. They’ve been my go-to during those times when I’ve felt like a bloated balloon and during those moments when the thought of buttoned pants sends me into a panic. After a long day of holding in my mom belly, there’s nothing more satisfying than slipping into a cozy pair of yoga pants. Honestly, you can almost hear my abs sigh with relief when I pull on my favorite fleece-lined leggings; I nearly knocked my kid over the other day as my abs shot out of my dress pants like a slingshot.
Leggings get it. They’re the best friend of a mom’s body. But here’s the deal: I’m not buying your LuLaRoe leggings, so please stop asking, alright?
For those who aren’t in the know, LuLaRoe leggings are currently a hot topic among moms. Just say the name, and it’s like flipping a switch that lights up their faces with excitement. I have friends who rave about their LuLaRoe finds, gazing dreamily into the distance, enchanted by the softest fabric hugging their thighs. Entire Facebook groups are dedicated to selling these leggings, and I’ve never seen so many grown women fiercely competing to snag a pair of what I’d call overpriced essentials for moms.
Curious about the hype, I once asked a friend what made LuLaRoe leggings so special. She looked me dead in the eye and said, “They feel like butter on your legs.” But she didn’t say “butter”—no, she said “buttah,” like a character from a late-night talk show. Apparently, this is the go-to phrase to describe these leggings, and if I hear it one more time, I might just lose it.
Now, before you get your LuLaRoe in a twist, let me be clear: I absolutely admire any woman hustling to support her family. Managing pop-up parties, juggling inventory, and keeping customers satisfied while racing to preschool is no small feat. Seriously, I respect the effort to bring in some extra cash.
But let’s be real. Is there no better way to shop than fighting with other women on Facebook for a pair of leggings I’ll wear while binge-watching my favorite shows?
While I’m sure those leggings are comfy and heavenly, the real kicker is LuLaRoe’s sales strategy. If you haven’t been living under a rock, you’ve likely been involuntarily added to a private LuLaRoe Facebook group. Consultants add their entire friend list, then pressure everyone to invite more people with the promise of free clothing for the top inviter.
Just last week, I was added to my 36th LuLaRoe group during an “add party,” and my inbox was instantly flooded with motivation-filled posts from an enthusiastic consultant. Really? This is how we shop for clothes now?
I have no time for this madness. Sure, I believe the leggings are cozy. I’m sure angels sing as you pull them over your mom hips. But if they were that amazing, wouldn’t they be available at Target? Wouldn’t I be able to order them on Amazon while sipping wine on my couch?
If you want me to buy your leggings, make it simple. I already jump through enough hoops daily; I don’t need a 12-step process involving a virtual catfight and a PayPal invoice that must be paid within minutes or risk losing out on a unique pair of leggings.
Additionally, I have zero interest in pestering my friends or dragging them into a high-pressure sales situation. I rely on my friends for carpooling; I’m not risking that by adding them to a group where someone is trying to convince us that watermelon-print leggings are a good idea. Seriously, pizza slice leggings? No thanks.
I attempted to leave a LuLaRoe group three times last week. Three times! Forget building a wall; station a few LuLaRoe consultants at the border, and no one is getting in.
And just so we’re clear: the next person who adds me to a LuLaRoe group is getting a swift kick.
As if the frantic sales pitches and questionable prints aren’t enough, the prices are outrageous. Nearly $40 for a pair? I feel like we’re dealing with leggings dipped in gold. I work hard for my money, and while I believe in treating ourselves, there’s too much hassle involved to spend that much on leggings covered in giant pizza slices.
I don’t have the time to scroll through endless photos or invite hundreds of friends just to buy a simple pair of black leggings. Thanks, but I’m perfectly fine with my Target leggings, which also come with a coffee bar—so take that, “buttah” leggings.
LuLaRoe, it’s time for your consultants to chill out. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be busy escaping LuLaRoe group drama and raising my middle finger to overpriced leggings.
In summary, while LuLaRoe leggings might be comfortable and well-loved in the mom community, the high-pressure sales tactics and inflated prices make it a hard pass for me. If you want to explore more about home insemination, check out this informative post from our other blog, and for those keen on fertility boosters, this resource is a must-see. Plus, the CDC offers excellent guidance on pregnancy and home insemination.