Job stays fresh: Ogden woman has been selling Tupperware for 50 years
OGDEN — Joyce Bielik has been at her job for 50 years now.
The 76-year-old Ogden woman has been in the same line of work since before Watergate and Woodstock. And yet, for her, the business is just as fresh as the day she started.
How did her job stay so fresh? Whaddaya expect? It’s Tupperware.
Bielik has been selling the colorful, plastic, airtight containers since Jan. 30, 1967 — the first day she hosted a Tupperware Party in her home for a handful of friends and family. And at a time when most people have long ago retired and sailed/RV’ed/puttered off into the sunset, Bielik continues to conduct Tupperware Parties throughout Northern Utah.
“I’m getting a little older, but I still do two a week,” she said. “When I was in my prime, I was holding nine to 12 Tupperware Parties a week. But age gets you, you know?”
Traveling to folks’ homes for the parties is the fun part of the job, she says.
“You go show them stuff, and you get to see how cute their house is and how cute their kids are,” Bielik said. “They feed you, they pay you, and you also win free stuff.”
What’s not to like?
Bielik is fiercely loyal to the Tupperware brand, and says it’s a good company to work for. Today, she has about 50 active distributors working under her.
“I think there has only been two of us in Utah who’ve been in it for 50 years,” she said. “The other gal was in Logan, but she passed away.”
And selling Tupperware isn’t a bad living, according to Bielik.
“It’s really quite a secret — if you work the business — how much money you can make,” she said.
Partly through Tupperware sales, Bielik and her husband, Walt, put their three kids through college. It’s not an extravagant life, but it’s a good one.
“Walt’s always brought home the bacon, but I put the jam and jelly on it,” Bielik laughed. “We’ve been debt-free for a number of years.”
And don’t even get her started on the perks of being a Tupperware Lady. Over the years, Bielik’s job has earned her all sorts of gifts, trips and other rewards.
“At one time, all three kids’ homes were furnished with the things I earned,” she says. “Grandfather clocks, microwaves, couches — all that stuff.”
Bielik also hasn’t had a car payment since 1968. When you become a manager or director for Tupperware, the company gives you a car every two years — and even takes care of the insurance. All you pay for is gas and oil changes.
Bielik has had the opportunity to advance further in the company, but she always turned it down. One would have involved a move to Orem, the other to Boise, Idaho.
“I didn’t want to go either of those places,” she said. “I’m a real homebody.”
Bielik said selling Tupperware was a way to get out of the house, do something fun, and make some money in the process. She hasn’t regretted a single moment.
“Most people work 50 years at job they don’t really like,” Bielik said. “I get do something I love.”
In January, Stein Ove Fenne, president of Tupperware U.S. & Canada, was in town for a seminar and presented Bielik with a bouquet of 50 roses for her 50th anniversary with the company.
“It was gorgeous,” Bielik says, “but I couldn’t even lift it.”
As for how much longer the septuagenarian will keep peddling her ‘wares, Bielik is in no hurry to hang it up.
“I hope to keep doing it a long time,” she said. “At least another four or five years. I haven’t talked about retirement, because I love what I do.”
She says the job of Tupperware Lady has fit every stage of her life.
“I did it when I was a new mom, then when the kids were teenagers where you really had to watch them, then I had to take care of elderly parents for 10 years,” she said. “I’ve tended grandkids, and now that I’m older, it really fits. No way could you have had another kind of job and done all that. Most companies would let you go when you’re 76.”
Bielik’s son Craig, a darn fine stand-up comedian, loves telling jokes about his mother’s chosen profession.
“We’re going to bury her in Tupperware,” he jokes. “It seals in freshness. We’ll just have to burp it every few years.”
He then thinks better of the idea.
“No, actually we wouldn’t bury her in Tupperware,” he says. “We could never find the lid.”
Besides, Joyce Bielik points out, her remains would never fit — even in Tupperware’s largest container, a 52-cup bowl.
“But maybe my ashes,” she said.
Contact Mark Saal at 801-625-4272, or msaal@standard.net. Follow him on Twitter at @Saalman. Friend him on Facebook at facebook.com/MarkSaal.

