LuLaRoe

If you haven’t heard of LuLaRoe, you’ve either been hanging out under a rock or taking a social media hiatus because the internets are extolling the many virtues of “butter leggings” and LuLaRoe stuff in general.

LuLaRoe is a clothing line sold via multi-level marketing (MLM). Sort of the same concept as Pampered Chef, Mary Kay, and that crazy mascara that makes your lashes long enough to trip over. Their stuff stretchy, comfy, of reasonably good quality, and fun. They have solids, stripes, florals, polka dots, chevrons, and any pattern you can dream up plus a few you probably wouldn’t expect like root beer mugs and zebras. Fun. They have skirts, shirts, dresses, and of course, their famous leggings.

They’re like butter, those leggings. They are.

I know comparing an article of clothing to something you slather on toast might seem weird, but these leggings are deliciously soft to the touch. When I see someone else wearing LuLaRoe leggings, I get this urge to go up and touch them (I know that’s really weird, but OMG these leggings).

No, no one is paying me or supplying me with free leggings to write this. I wish.

These leggings have nice high waistbands. After years of wearing low-rise jeans, trying to keep it all sucked in and hoping my assets weren’t on display, I welcome pants that sit right below my boobs. These lovelies almost make my muffin top disappear. I own four pairs. I’ve pretty much broken up with regular pants and have never been happier. If these leggings had lips, I’d make out with them in public and not care who was watching.

You can buy LuLaRoe through individual consultants who sell via pop-up shops or Facebook groups. There are differences between the large buy and sell groups and the groups individual consultants maintain for clients.

The main difference is the people in the latter group can hide their crazy.

It’s hard to distinguish between the groups at first. Someone might invite you to one of these big buy and sell LuLapaloozas. It might seem innocent at first. You give in to the temptation to click “Request to join group.” It’s a Facebook group for women who love leggings. Harmless fun.

Sucka.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

1. There are rules.

There will usually be a pinned post at the top of the page outlining rules for that group. There might be some chirpy disclaimer about how the group is a shiny, happy place that doesn’t need a lot of rules followed by long list of do’s and don’ts that will get you ejected before you can say, “Ooh, that print is just darling!” Follow the rules like it’s your job, ladies. This is not a drill.

2. Don’t make fun of the merch.

You might think the “elegant collection” is anything but. Avoid commenting that a shimmery tunic resembles a Hefty bag that your toddler threw glitter at. Someone loves that garment with a passion that is all-consuming and a little scary. If you don’t like it, keep it zipped, sister. Ditto for making comments that those feather-patterned leggings look like they’re festooned with tiny vaginas.

Just. Keep. Scrolling.

Trust me, you don’t want to invoke the wrath of a woman who’s been chugging Monsters and trolling LuLaRoe groups for 47 hours straight looking for one particular pair of cat-patterned leggings. Insulting her “unicorn” is probably worse than insulting her child. She will cut you. Be afraid.

3. A unicorn is someone’s highly coveted pattern, not a mythical beast.

If you spend 30 seconds in any LuLaRoe group, you’ll read about unicorns. Pizza leggings, any holiday patterns (pumpkins, witch hats, snowmen), or the granddaddy unicorn of them all, solid black leggings. Only in Lula La La Land are black leggings a rarity.

LuLaRoe limits their patterns, so different consultants get different merchandise. If you’re hell-bent on finding your unicorn, you’ll probably cruise the groups. It’s a little like bar-hopping. Which brings me to…

4. Belonging to more than one LuLaRoe Facebook group is inevitable.

If you get bitten by the leggings bug, you won’t be satisfied with just one group. You might find a consultant you like, but you’re going to have to cheat on her so prepare yourself now. She’ll understand. Things escalate quickly. The hunt for those leggings with light bulbs wearing Santa hats will become your new obsession. Don’t feel bad if you forget to feed your children or shower. Totally normal.

5. Used LuLaRoe is a thing.

Once you zone in on your unicorn, you’ll do anything to get it, including buying someone’s gently used leggings for twice the retail price. Sounds a little gross, right?

“Here’s a picture of my parrot leggings! I’ve worn them 36 times, so the butt is a little frayed. There’s a hole in the crotch, but they can be yours for only $50 plus shipping!”

Barf. Paying jacked-up prices for used stuff defies logic.

6. Acronyms are also a thing.

Sometimes these will be explained in a post (check the files or group rules) and sometimes bewildered newbies are just left to flounder. For instance:

NWT: New with tags

NWOT: New without tags

EUC: Excellent used condition

GUC: Good used condition

FSOT: For sale or trade (just like Pokémon cards, right?!)

ISO: In search of

DISO: Desperately in search of (aka please hear my cry for help)

7. Sob stories to get free leggings are also a thing.

“My husband left me. I lost my job. My dog died. I’m not sure how I’m going to afford Christmas for my kids, but goshdarnit, if someone could just find it in their heart to give me a pair of leggings with little paper airplanes on them, I’ll find the will to go on.”

And no, I’m not poking fun at anyone who has fallen on hard times, but in times of crisis, leggings seem like a weird thing to fixate on. Right? I can’t help but get the scam vibe from most of these posts.

8. Bidding gets…intense.

In 1998, I saw two women almost throw down over Beanie Babies. Maybe they did throw down. The crazed look in one woman’s eyes and the way she clutched that tiny stuffed giraffe in her claws frightened me enough to make me turn and get the hell out of dodge.

LuLaRoe auction groups are kind of like that, minus the immediate danger of getting shanked. I say immediate because I’m sure there are some crazies out there who’d cut a bitch over some EUC paisley leggings from a pet and smoke-free home.

It just might take a minute, but if zealous bidding results in someone else getting deprived of their unicorn, you’d best be checking your backseat when you get in your car. You never know.

9. Roe is a verb.

“This is how I Roe.”

“Show me how you Roe.”

“Roe, Roe, Roe your boat.”

“They see me Roe-ing…they hatin’”

I could go on, but you get the idea.

10. Buyer beware.

In all seriousness, I love LuLaRoe, but don’t get sucked into an online bidding war. No matter how obsessed you are with your dream leggings, there’s probably no good reason to invest a ton of your time, effort, and money into locating them. They’re leggings.

You might want those leggings really bad. You might convince yourself that your life won’t be the same without them. News flash: You don’t need them, and yes, your life will still be good if you let it. It’s easy to find things you like, and you never know, your unicorn might drop into your lap when you least expect.

I’ve found a dealer — er, consultant — I like who lives in my area and I buy most of my LuLaRoe from her. I can see the patterns in person (colors sometimes look different online; ask me about my black and orange leggings that I thought were a nice charcoal and gold) and even try things on. I know her return policy, and I can indulge my new addiction without feeling like I have to look over my shoulder when I go out in public. These leggings are a very good thing, but people take it a little too seriously sometimes. Dealing with someone who has her LuLa britches in a bunch on Facebook? Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Your mother probably told you to stay out of dark alleys. Some of those LuLaRoe buy and sell groups are just like dark alleys: The temptation to check it out is great, but what you find might be a little scary.