Towards a Universal Standard for Reusable Deodorant

Why have eco-friendly cosmetics adopted the very same vendor lock-in we have come to loathe elsewhere?

While I am no expert in the field of consumer products or cosmetics, it has not escaped my notice that in every supermarket there now sits a plethora of eco-friendly alternatives to conventional plastic-laden produce. By and large, this is good. We have recently stopped buying spray bottles of the less noxious cleaning chemicals preferring the “just add water” refills that resemble something between orange squash and dishwasher tablets. Not only are these lighter, if on foot you don’t need a bag, they’re also sometimes cheaper!

This trend transcends supermarkets. There are an abundance of subscription services selling you eco-friendly variants of household products you didn’t know you needed. Instead of blue J-cloths you have many options with varying degrees of efficacy; microfibre cloths, recycled sponge, and bamboo cloths. The last of which, while approximately matching the useful life of the blue J-cloth are apparently made out of the long wooden sticks your parents kept in the garden when you were a child (and which they very-much told you off for using as makeshift swords).

It doesn’t stop with J-cloths, apparently even good old fashioned coal tar soap is trendy again. My favourite such example is from a company called Who Gives A Crap, a company who in 2024 turned over upwards of £40m selling recycled toilet roll (which you’ll be glad to hear is in fact toilet roll made from recycled paper and not … well, the alternative). Their range includes loo roll made from recycled paper, as well as loo roll made from bamboo (back again!), each individually wrapped in tissue paper which is sufficiently pretty that you could use it to gift-wrap your Christmas presents, if you’re happy essentially gifting paper that has spent the last few months sat beside the bog!

It is worth noting that these latter products get a bit more expensive relative to the conventional product they aim to replace. That said, in a climate where as a country we’re targeting significant reductions in emissions and waste (while simultaneously exporting considerable amounts of emissions and waste overseas), we probably should get used to paying the true cost for our purchases.

However, in this new world of eco-conscious consumerism, not all is perfect! One such market which has undergone a reduced-waste revolution is the deodorant and anti-perspirant one. A few months ago I was perusing the cornucopia of deodorant on offer at Tesco, and decided to give this newfound trend a go. After a fair bit of deliberation, I settled on a deodorant from INEOS in the White Orris & Cherry variant. When it ran out I refilled it for £2.50, which it should be noted is more than the cost of an average non-refillable deodorant. I was also surprised to see how much packaging was required to supply a refill. I’m sure it’s less than an average non-refillable competitor, but is it really by that much?

Last week I ran out of deodorant again and needed another refill. This time, I hit a hitch. Among the other brands, the INEOS refills were nowhere to be seen. Now, while it would be possible to order a refill online, “Sorry! I’m waiting for my deodorant refill to arrive” wouldn’t alleviate the discomfort my colleagues would find themselves subjugated to.

I was in a fix, and it was back to the drawing board with respect to my deodorant supplier of choice. Again, there were a large number of options. This time, what struck me was quite how much more the eco-friendly options cost. Whereas £3.75 would buy a stick of Old Spice, the initial outlay for the refillable variants would set me back between £8 for just the metal case, and £15 for the whole shebang.

While there is room for a reasonable debate on the econometrics of a 40g stick of deodorant costing a £15, maybe that is the cost of sustainable sweat-masking? What really struck me is the lack of interoperability between these competing products. While it feels absurd to consider vendor lock-in when discussing personal hygiene, not only does the proud owner of a stick of Wild deodorant need to part with £6 each time they need to refill, but they have no option to go elsewhere.

Should one of these brands land in hot water and wind themselves up, their owners might break a sweat at being left with a £10 empty shell. Will this happen? I don’t know. But, it begs the question; at what point do some of these green alternatives become the very problem they’re trying to fix?