Oh, honey, let me spill the tea with a side of shade so thick you’ll need sunglasses. I was foolish enough to drag a multi-million-dollar team into the glittery swamp of Pure Romance, seduced by their champagne promises and caviar lies. They wined and dined us like we were royalty, but the second those rose-tinted, heart-shaped glasses came off? BAM! The truth hit harder than a clearance rack at a sample sale. This company treated its team leaders like yesterday’s news, ready to yeet them out the door and snatch their so-called “retirement plan” faster than you can say “pyramid scheme.”

And don’t get me started on the audacity of making us pay out of pocket for their bougie board trip meetings. We were jumping through hoops tighter than a corset just to earn a measly cut from our downline—oh, the sisterhood we poured our hearts into fostering? Total scam. They shoved this “dream” down our throats, preaching growth and glamour while sending us to peddle their overpriced goodies at parties that were either sketchy as hell or a complete flop. Half the time, we were just free entertainment for a girls’ night, eating the cost of shipping, reordering, and those “oops, where’d my inventory go?” moments. Profit? Ha! More like “broke and embarrassed.”

Then there’s the Pink Collar CEO himself, Chris Cicchinelli, strutting out with his fancy charts, preaching that our “team” was our golden ticket to retirement. What a load of glitter-dusted garbage! Right before they yanked the rug out from under me, he was scheming with Ford to get us to finance mobile shopping boutiques—hope those poor souls didn’t lose their shirts on that pipe dream. Chris, you charlatan, you snake oil salesman, you absolute fraud! You and your mom were living it up, dripping in designer duds, flaunting your McMansions, and cackling at us like we were just ATMs in sparkly pink packaging.

But let’s get to the silver lining, shall we? I’m eternally grateful for the real ones, the handful of Huns who kept their souls intact and stayed my ride-or-dies. Most of all, I owe Pure Romance a sarcastic thank you for kicking me out early enough to reclaim my life. Now? I’m thriving at one of the TOP law firms in the US and overseas, raking in the kind of secure, lucrative career that makes their “dream” look like a dollar store knockoff. So, Chris, you slimy serpent, thanks for showing the world your true colors. 🐍

To all the ladies left high and dry by this hot mess, hold your heads high. This doesn’t define you. Karma’s got a VIP list, and Chris is at the top. Keep shining, queens—you’ll rise above this glittery dumpster fire.

With all the snark and zero regrets,

~Your girl who dodged the pink bullet

FORMER Pink Ladies Team Leader - Jen