【The Walrus】Goodbye Body Shop? Buying Body Butter Can’t Save the World

When I heard the Body Shop was closing one-third of its Canadian stores, my first thought was “bananas.” Few scents can transport me back to the ’90s quite like the Body Shop Banana Shampoo does. I remember the sound the mushy mixture made when it plopped out of the bottle, ready to wash away the grunge.

A few weeks before the Canadian announcement, the Body Shop International Ltd. filed for administration in the UK, closing seventy-five of its almost 200 stores and doing away with approximately 300 jobs at its head office. On March 1, the Body Shop Canada Ltd. said it would halt online sales and shut down thirty-three of its 105 locations while it seeks to restructure under the Bankruptcy and Insolvency Act. The company also closed all US stores. (At its peak, the company ran 3,000 stores in more than sixty countries.)

Activist Anita Roddick opened the first Body Shop in Brighton, England, in 1976 with just twenty-five products. The brand built its reputation on ethically sourced ingredients and anti-waste packaging. It was also one of the first beauty companies to campaign against animal testing. “She was a pioneer in using her company as a platform for advocating social issues, ranging from self-esteem to human rights and environmental conservation. This was not just marketing; it was a deeply held belief system that permeated every aspect of the company,” wrote consumer insights specialist Kate Hardcastle in Forbes shortly before the UK store closures were announced.

Throughout this time, the Body Shop’s competition increased as clean beauty became the norm and the socially conscious, environmentally friendly buzzwords the company built its customer base on no longer had unique marketing appeal. In 2024, beauty sales are on the rise, and Sephora, Canada’s largest skin care and makeup retailer, sells products from seventy-nine clean beauty brands. Marketing around ethical consumption is now common, with both luxury and drugstore products touting sustainable, refillable, or recyclable packaging. While aging customers like me outgrew the Body Shop, it also struggled to attract millennial and Gen Z shoppers whose purchases are driven by celebrity brands and influencers.

I felt these growing pains too when, a few days after the March announcement, I found myself in a Body Shop for the first time in decades. In my mid-twenties, I abandoned my Body Shop lip balm pots in favour of cooler brands like Clinique, Calvin Klein, and MAC. Their marketing appealed to the more mature shopper in me, and their products didn’t remind me of my awkward teenage self. I still cared about the whales and Greenpeace, but my politics had become more personal, and I didn’t need an in-store poster campaign to tell me what causes to care about.

In the store, I recognized the floral smell and green walls as well as many of the items on the shelves. I felt like I had stumbled across a time capsule full of products I’d abandoned in the ’90s, along with all that patchouli and Pearl Jam. I lingered for a few minutes but felt uncomfortable. It was like connecting with an old friend you don’t have anything in common with anymore. I’d long outgrown both the brand and the idea that buying its Banana Shampoo could save the world.