Caribbean Skincare Growing Up in the UK
When we talk about skincare today, it often feels very curated.
There are routines, serums, actives and step by step systems designed for every possible skin concern. Social media is full of carefully organised shelves and ten step routines.
But growing up in a Caribbean household in the UK looked very different.
Skincare wasn’t something we researched or discussed as a beauty ritual. It was just part of everyday life. You used what was in the house, what your mum had, or what someone said worked.
Looking back now, those routines tell a bigger story about culture, migration and adaptation. At the time they felt normal. Now I realise they were part of a much deeper tradition of caring for skin in practical, resourceful ways.
Skincare was about care, not beauty
In our house, skincare wasn’t really about beauty.
It was about being clean, looking after your skin and fixing problems when they came up.
If you had spots, someone would recommend sulfur soap. If you had dry lips or rough patches of skin, there was usually a tub of petroleum jelly somewhere in the house. And if your skin was irritated or you had little cuts or scratches, there was a good chance a small capful of Dettol would end up in the bath.
That might sound surprising to some people now, but it was completely normal. The idea was simple. It helped keep your skin clean and protected.
Even now, the smell of Dettol instantly takes me back to childhood baths. It’s funny how certain smells stay with you like that.
Moving from heat to cold
Something I only really understood later is how much the climate shaped these routines.
In the Caribbean the air is warm and humid. Skin behaves very differently in that environment. When families moved to the UK, suddenly everything changed. The air was colder, windier and much drier.
For a lot of people, skin that had never really been dry before suddenly needed a lot more moisture.
That’s probably why moisturising was taken so seriously in so many Caribbean households. I’m sure a lot of people will recognise the phrase “cream your skin properly.”
Leaving the house with dry skin simply wasn’t an option.
Thick creams and oils were everywhere
Because dryness was such a common issue, richer products became staples.
Cocoa butter lotions were everywhere. Large tubs of shea butter would often appear from African or Caribbean shops and somehow get used for everything. Oils were another constant, especially after bathing.
Applying oil to damp skin was one of those habits you didn’t question. It was just what you did.
There weren’t lots of steps or complicated routines. It was more about using a few nourishing things consistently.
One product for everything
Another thing I think about now is how many products were used for multiple things.
Coconut oil could be used for skin and hair. Castor oil might end up on your scalp, your lashes and sometimes your skin too. Shea butter could be used for dry elbows, cracked heels or hair care.
There wasn’t really the idea that every concern needed its own separate product. Most things in the house had more than one purpose.
Looking back, I think that mindset of simple, multi use products has influenced how I think about skincare even now.
The importance of community shops
As Caribbean communities grew in the UK, African and Caribbean shops became really important.
They were often the places where you could find ingredients that reminded people of home. Shea butter, coconut oil, Jamaican black castor oil and other familiar products would appear on the shelves.
For many families, these shops helped maintain a connection to traditions that might otherwise have been harder to access.
A skincare culture that isn’t often talked about
Something I’ve noticed as I’ve spent more time in the skincare world is that certain beauty traditions are widely recognised.
Korean skincare is celebrated for its innovation. French pharmacy products are known for their simplicity. Japanese skincare is admired for its focus on skin health.
But Caribbean skincare traditions are rarely spoken about in the same way.
Yet so many of the things people are rediscovering now have existed in Caribbean and African communities for generations. Rich butters, nourishing oils and simple routines designed to protect and support the skin have long been part of everyday life.
They just weren’t marketed as trends.
Looking back differently
Growing up, none of these things felt like a cultural skincare tradition. They were simply normal parts of everyday life.
But looking back now, I realise they reflect something much bigger. They represent knowledge that was passed down through families, practical solutions that worked, and a way of caring for skin that focused on nourishment and protection.
They also explain why products like body butters and rich moisturisers have remained so important for many people.
In the next article, I want to explore that idea a little more. Body butter has become a huge part of the modern skincare world, but its roots are closely connected to Caribbean and African skincare traditions, even though that connection isn’t always recognised.