What your 90’s Body Shop choices say about you

More than you think

Like many others of a certain age, I tend to think a lot of new versions aren’t better. Examples: pubs, the Argos catalogue, Roses chocolates. Of course some things are an improvement. Like how it’s definitely not socially acceptable for teachers to sleep with their pupils anymore.

The above is a clunky intro to my guide to your 90’s Body Shop choices. What you chose says more than you know. Ready? (And yes this is ALL tongue in cheek, of course, of course).

Kiwi Fruit Lip Balm

Our 90s Kiwi Fruit Lip Balm user was a trail blazer. Remember, these were the days when the descriptor ‘fruit’ was required to ensure people weren’t confused that the little green pot contained ground up kiwi birds. Kiwi Fruit Girl began slathering her lips in this green gunk pre puberty but soon graduated to chugging Kiwi Mad Dog 20/20 on the swings whilst smoking menthols. KFG was good at science, didn’t get all stressed out by school swimming lessons and wowed everyone by getting into a really good uni to study astro physics. They had a clandestine relationship with the head of maths, which these days would be child abuse but back then was called being a lucky girl. They’ve never been on a package holiday though they don’t like to brag about it. They’re frequently interviewed on Radio 4 about the role of women in science and are the world authority on galactic line emissions. They use unscented utilitarian products, but secretly yearn for Lush.

Subscribe here if you too had to decide between Tutti Frutti, Apricot and Morello Cherry lip balm:

White Musk

White Musk lovers were old for their age. Often only children or first borns, treated like mini adults as a child. They learnt to 'layer scent’ from their mother and so a basket of White Musk bath pearls, White Musk soap, White Musk shower gel and White Musk body lotion was their 90’s crack cocaine. Their first alcoholic drink was enjoyed age 4; a dry woody white wine diluted with fizzy water. Their favourite item of teenage clothing was a lilac leather bomber jacket complete with small flip top pocket mirror stowed in the inside pocket next to their Cherry Drop sweets. They were the first to get their ears pierced but they secretly played with their dolls until GCSE year. As a young adult they collected beanie babies and now in middle age own a Pomeranian. They’ve spent tens of thousands of their Marks & Spencer’s buyers salary on therapy where they mainly cry about how Mummy used to confide in them about the hand jobs she gave to White Musk Girl’s tennis coach in the ball cupboard. Daddy still doesn’t know, but is it White Musk Girl’s secret to keep? Holidays are Mark Warner and Mark Warner only. You get what you pay for.

Dewberry

The Dewberry lover sucked their thumb until they were 14 and enjoyed a warm bed until around the same age courtesy of a hot water bottle filled nightly by their much older sister. They’re the baby of the family, a ‘happy accident’ mistaken as menopause until the cramps confused for fibroids started to come with alarming regularity on a shopping trip to buy a new dusky pink bed valance. Dewberry Lover’s head crowned in the Debenham’s toilet, meaning her birth was front page news in the local rag. Her mum was given a lifetime pass for the Debenham’s cafe to include ‘unlimited hot drinks (NOT hot chocolate), toasted tea cakes and scones with butter ONLY’. Everyone, apart from her mother’s diabetes nurse was sad when they went into administration. Dewberry Lover drank Malibu and coke as a teenager and still does, though is also partial to an Amaretto Sour to take away the taste of ceremonial cacao and/or Peruvian coca tea. She took off to India travelling at 16 and only returned last year with dreads to her knees, piercings aplenty and a smattering of hand poked tattoos depicting gods whose names she’s forgotten. Acid has made her memory a little hazy you see. Her skin’s heavily lined with some suspect looking moles because she doesn’t agree with using chemicals like SPFs on her body, though she does enjoy the odd ecstasy pill. She’s back in the UK for good now given her hip needs replacing after caning yoga. Her next big business venture is bringing ayahuasca to Luton.

Go on, consider being a paid OR FREE subscriber. You know you want to. I might even cover Satsuma Bubbles next time. You can’t even imagine what those guys got up to. It’ll make your skin crawl.

Animals in Danger Soaps

In Danger girl was worried from the moment she first learnt about acid rain at primary school. She prayed every night for people to stop using aerosol deodorants and recycle their jam jars. Her Christmas list consisted of pleading paragraphs to Santa requesting an end to war, famine and animal testing. She was the only one of her friends to take her old wrinkly labelled Body Shop bottles back to be refilled. There was no joy in a smooth new bottle for ID girl. She fell in love with her now husband at the age of 14 when he wooed her with a Valentine’s gift of an Animals in Danger box of soaps. She desperately wanted to keep the box but her morals forced her to recycle it. She still thinks about the perfectly proportioned compartments as she sends out emails from the school office reminding parents their child’s dinner money fund is running low. She had plans to join the Rainbow Warrior and maybe tie herself to railings but she fell pregnant in sixth form. She was to leave with immediate effect but was allowed to come back to sit the exams. Big bumped and blushing she squeezed into the makeshift canteen exam hall, ignoring the whispers. She passed with straight A’s. The talk of the staff room. ‘She could have gone to Oxford’ they said. She likes to think that she gave up her career so that her sons could have one. It makes her feel less pointless. All five of her boys are excellent students though find being the offspring of a vicar tricky. Her teenage husband was obsessed with repaying his sins of the flesh via the trade of his service to the church. It wasn’t quite what she’d expected from her life; a vicar’s wife, but hey ho. Whilst her husband is off visiting parishioners of an evening, ID girl is a Reddit moderator where she polices the eco boards with a firm but humorous hand. Upon retirement she will apply to Cambridge, finally flex her intellectual muscle and graduate with a double first in Ecology and Conservation. Her obituary will feature in The Guardian.

Fruit Shaped Soaps

No-one really remembered Fruit Shaped Soap girl until she went out with Matthew Newson in 4th year. She was just another non-descript girl with a plait, an average student, well behaved, just a bit of a nothing with a thick fringe. Rumour had it that she lived in a council house on the rough estate with the quad bikes but no-one was sure if this was true. She didn’t seem streetwise enough. Kind of geeky. She used to bring either her apple or lemon soap to school in her PE bag and lather up in the communal showers. One day, for a dare, Matthew sat next to her on the bus back from the end of year trip to Alton Towers and the rest, as they say, is history. One minute he was all bluster and bravado and the next thing she was whispering in his ear as he gulped and smiled. What was she saying? An intense six month relationship followed that intrigued everyone. Then she dumped him. And the rumours started. There was a reason she never brought the banana soap to school, it was used for ‘other things’. Matthew was lying of course, but that didn’t stop every other boy from asking her out to see if it was true. She never denied nor acknowledged the rumours. These days she’s a librarian by day and an Only Fans creator by night. She grosses over 200k a year and thanks her lucky stars Matthew’s lies gave her inspiration all those years ago. She won’t give up the day job though, her Wriggly Readers (age 0 - 3, Wednesdays at 10am) need her.

Japanese Washing Grains

Japanese Washing Grains girl remembers the first time she rubbed the magical powder into her face. FINALLY it felt clean. The abrasion was heavenly, reminiscent of her mother’s Jif lemon bathroom cream cleaner. It was years later she realised the little pot of magical powder was actually just ground aduki beans. Now some might be annoyed at being hoodwinked into paying ££ for ground beans but not JWG Girl, she just felt excited at the possibilities the larder might hold. You see JWG Girl left school without one qualification to her name. She wasn’t stupid, but she was a young carer, trying to help her single mum with her little brothers and keep on top of the cocktail of meds her mum needed for her depression and OCD. There wasn’t spare money for creating lotions and potions, but they did live by the sea. So JWG Girl collected seaweed and bladderwrack and hawthorn. She dried it, mixed it, added it to soap. And now, well, she lives in Margate in a very nice house indeed, overlooking the sea, with five rescue cats called Erzulie, Anuket, Tefnut, Mazu and Haik. Her mother is long gone and her brothers self sufficient. She is sober after a long and sometimes difficult relationship with alcohol and is in a long term relationship with a woman called Bee. They live happily apart. Life is good.

I’m going to leave it there. I have more. I have many more. But this is long and I feel like you might need a break. Anyway, what about you? Fuzzy peach? Brazil nut conditioner? Maybe even peppermint foot lotion?

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