To most New York City women, the words “Tupperware party” bring to mind housewives in ranch homes. But perhaps that’s because, until recently, the emphasis has been on the word “Tupperware,” not “party.” A new generation of New Yorkers is embracing the commerce-party model that once seemed as strictly suburban, as, well, the idea of scooping dinner out of a Tupperware casserole. The parties are being thrown by everyone, from working women to drag queens, throughout the city to sell jeans, power tools, sex toys, pans, and more. Meanwhile, those burping containers are having such a comeback that parties in their honor are being brought to the stage at several local theaters.

As shopping has become more of a solitary activity — just point, click, and add to cart — parties are injecting a sense of community back into the equation. Anna Skillern, a 31-year-old real estate project manager at Omnicom, had been to shopping parties in her home state of South Carolina, however, it never had occurred to her to have one in her Park Slope apartment. But when her mother and sister started their own company throwing parties to sell Brazilian-made Beija Flor jeans in South Carolina and along the East Coast, Ms. Skillern thought the setup might appeal to her more cosmopolitan pals. She invited 15 friends over and had her sister and mother turn her apartment into jean heaven.

“It took on its own Brooklyn kind of flair. It wasn’t housewifey at all,” Ms. Skillern said recently. “It felt more like a party than anything else

— just a good reason to get together. There was also a lot of everyone giving each other feedback on the jeans.”

New York will soon get a taste of what jeans parties are like in Los Angeles, where 21-year-old entrepreneur Auna Irvine sells discounted jeans—brands like Seven and True Religion — at sometimesdecadent parties thrown for the sole purpose of pants shopping. “The parties often last until 2 in the morning,” Ms. Irvine said. “People will get DJs, caterers, the works. They really go all out. Whether you’re 38 or 19, if you wear jeans like the ones I sell, you’re hip — at least in your own mind — and want to be perceived as such.” Ms. Irvine plans to bring her parties to Manhattan this year.

For Bronx resident Lisa Huart, 44, hosting a party to sell shoes was a way to feed an addiction. “I’m a shoe-a-holic,” she said. “I have 300 hundred pairs, and it’s still not enough.” The shoe company Aerosoles ran a recent party for her, using stock from the closest store. Aerosoles’s regional sales manager, Nicole Rosser, estimated that the company throws about 25 shoe parties at people’s homes in New York City every month. “It’s not surprising to have people get really into it,” she said. “They’ll have cupcakes decorated with shoes, and shoethemed drinks.”

For Ms. Huart’s party, the company transformed the hallway outside her apartment into a mini-shoe store for 30 of her friends; inside, she served cocktails. Aerosoles rewarded her with one free pair for every $500 spent at the gathering, so when everyone went home, she found herself with four pairs of new boots — a nicer treat than the pile of dishes one usually is left with after a party.

Sex toy parties, run through consultants that work with companies such as Brown Bag Party, also are popular, presumably appealing to women who don’t want to risk being seen walking into Babeland. “You can make some money doing something that you can fit into your own schedule,” 30-year-old Tina Dore, who hosts adult toy parties throughout the city, said. There’s also a gooddoer aspect to the work that appeals to her. “I save marriages,” she added.

And what of Tupperware parties that are actually for Tupperware? They’re still around. The company is fond of claiming that a Tupperware party is started somewhere in the world every 2.5 seconds. Ice-T recently told Conan O’Brien he had been to one, and actress Lisa Rinna threw several last year. The company reports that celebrities including Cynthia Nixon, Isaac Mizrahi, and Molly Ringwald have all attended Tupperware events. There’s even a documentary about the company, “Tupperware!,” which has been traveling the country.

Then there are the two Tupperware party tribute off-Broadway shows, “Sealed for Freshness,” which is playing at New World Stages through April 29, and, “Dixie’s Tupperware Party,” which begins previews at the Ars Nova theater on April 18. The latter’s star and creator, Tupperware “woman” Dixie Longate of Mobile, Ala., (born Kris Andersson, a male Los Angeles-based dancer) has been hosting parties in L.A. for five years and does as many as 30 a month. The Tupperware company has acknowledged that he is one of its top consultants.

This month, he will host several private parties in New York to help stir interest about the show.

“I make oodles of money doing them, and I get free cheese and free vodka!” he said. “People imagine that Tupperware parties are all some old ladies picking up plastic bowls. But they’ve morphed into something a lot more interesting. Today, it’s more like a bunch of young ladies drinking and comparing boob jobs and dishing about their ex-husbands.”