I Wasn't Ready for the Wild Journey of 'LuLaRich' - intracervicalinseminationsyringe

By: Aisha Johnson
Updated: Sep. 17, 2021
Originally Published: Sep. 15, 2021

I was absolutely hooked on LuLaRoe. Honestly, those leggings felt like a dream. Before I finally stepped back, I think I owned around 30 pairs of leggings, along with several other pieces. I probably spent close to $2,000 on LuLaRoe merchandise. And now? It’s mostly gone. I donated nearly all of it, keeping only a few items. A woman in her 30s certainly doesn’t need leggings adorned with milkshakes.

In 2017, the downfall of LuLaRoe’s “buttery soft” leggings empire became a major headline. Quality control issues—think leggings ripping like wet tissue, moldy stock, and my favorite, seams that made garments resemble genitalia—led many to realize it was time to exit. Buy, Sell, Trade groups morphed into GOBO (going-out-of-business) groups, where consultants offloaded their inventory at discounted prices just to break even. It was a catastrophe of monumental proportions, and while witnessing a pyramid scheme collapse was entertaining, it was hard not to feel sympathy for the consultants, particularly those at the bottom who ended up in more debt than when they began.

Amazon Prime Video’s LuLaRich is a four-part docuseries that delves deep into the origins of the company and how their success ultimately led to their downfall. As a former LuLaRoe enthusiast, I had to watch it. Let me tell you, it was a wild ride. Here’s what I thought while watching.

The Stidhams Are Absolutely Out There

Deanne and Mark Stidham are the Mormon equivalent of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker, complete with Deanne’s heavily made-up eyelashes. It’s commendable that they agreed to share their side of the story, but no one could have anticipated the revelations that unfolded.

The Stidhams have a quirky, Brady Bunch-like family, boasting around 14 kids when you factor in the in-laws. One of Deanne’s adopted sons is even married to one of their adopted daughters. I lost track of the details as soon as I heard their children were wed. What on earth is happening?

Setting aside their unusual family dynamics, Deanne and Mark are perplexing characters. It’s tough to discern whether they’re genuinely eccentric or merely playing into a certain persona. Regardless, it’s hard to comprehend what you’re watching when they’re on screen. It’s amusing to laugh at them until the narrative shifts into the darker aspects of LuLaRoe, at which point they quickly transform into sinister figures, catching you off guard.

The Clothes Were Always That Ugly?

Reflecting on the clothing in advertisements and seeing them displayed in consultants’ homes made it clear how truly garish those items were. They interview one designer who admits that they often improvised. By 2017, the demand for new designs was so high that they were slapping random patterns onto fabric just to meet quotas. So, when you see those bizarre designs resembling anatomy or food items, it’s because they were hurrying to produce.

Footage from conventions or company cruises is a sight to behold—women in loud prints that make them look like identical clones. It’s downright unsettling.

LuLaRoe Was (And Is) Cult-like

One former consultant boldly states in the third episode that it had cult-like qualities, and you can see the groundwork laid throughout the series. Deanne and Mark marketed LuLaRoe as a chance to foster community and family while simultaneously coercing sellers into a business model that resembled a pyramid scheme. This allowed them to exploit vulnerable women seeking connection while still wanting to be there for their families—essentially the dream for every mother.

However, it goes much deeper. Top sellers faced significant pressure from Deanne and Mark. Expectations extended far beyond sales; they were expected to be dressed head to toe in LuLaRoe, maintain perfect hairstyles, and fit a specific body type. Deanne even had questionable weight loss surgery in Mexico and was arranging for consultants to undergo the same procedure. One consultant detailed the relentless texts from Deanne urging her to get the surgery. She eventually declined but was met with resistance.

One Black top seller, who initially worked at the home office before becoming a seller, shares how she was told to swap her Chanel for leggings. She also recounted how she felt out of place among “too many white people” on a company cruise, which is understandable. It’s ironic that, as a Black woman selling a culture of whiteness, that’s where she drew the line.

No Sympathy for the Consultants?

These women were misled with unrealistic promises, which is genuinely tragic. Many who reached the top of the pyramid only to face disappointment experienced real pain, including two who divorced after financial ruin.

The Stidhams’ beliefs as Mormons influenced their approach, as they expected husbands to take charge once their wives found success. But seriously, what man would want to manage a business selling unicorn-patterned leggings?

There’s so much more to unpack about this docuseries, but honestly, you need to watch it for yourself. I binged it in one sitting because it’s like a train wreck you simply can’t look away from; it’s that outrageous.

‘LuLaRich’ is currently available on Amazon Prime Video.

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Summary:

The docuseries LuLaRich reveals the rise and fall of LuLaRoe, exposing the questionable practices of its founders, Deanne and Mark Stidham. It illustrates how they created a cult-like atmosphere, exploiting vulnerable women while promising community and success. The ugly reality of the clothing and the tragic outcomes for many consultants further highlight the dark side of this once-thriving business.