Method Squeaky Green body wash

The smell isn’t overwhelming, but nice and fresh and the product offers good value for money. I reco

Method Squeaky Green body wash, £4.99 in fuzzy peach or crisp apple, for 295ml.

Date of launch: July 2008
Date of testing: summer and autumn 2008

Stockists: Method Kid is available from Boots and exclusively.

Method is a relatively new label on the market that primarily makes household cleaning products. Their children’s range – Method Kid - launched in July 2008 and consists of this body wash and the 3-in-1 shampoo. They’re made up of 99 per cent natural and plant derived products.

The packaging is very clever (if you look carefully it’s meant to be, I think, a cat…), no caps to unscrew or lift up but with a non-return valve that squirts the product out when you squeeze the plastic bottle (this does mean it’s hard to control and you do tend to use more than you’d planned to, but small complaint). My extremely crafty five year old daughter couldn’t manage to squeeze any out, although has great fun sticking her finger up the valve. So it seems to work; I love the simplicity of them. The smell isn’t overwhelming, but nice and fresh and the product offers good value for money. I recommend.


Sodium Lauroamphoaceate
Cocamidopropyl Betaine
Sodium Lauroyl Lactylate
Olea Europaea (olive) fruit oil
Olivoyl Glutamate
Coco Glucose
Glyceryl Oleate
Glycol Distearate
Glyceryl Stearate
Oryza Sativa (rice) Germ Oil
Oryza Sativa (rice) Bran Extract
Althaea Officinalis Extract
Dehydroacetic Acid
Benzyl Alcohol
Fragrance (parfum)

Annalisa Barbieri was in fashion PR for five years before going to the Observer to be fashion assistant. She has worked for the Evening Standard and the Times and was one of the fashion editors on the Independent on Sunday for five years, where she wrote the Dear Annie column. She was fishing correspondent of the Independent from 1997-2004.
Photo: André Spicer
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“It’s scary to do it again”: the five-year-old fined £150 for running a lemonade stand

Enforcement officers penalised a child selling home-made lemonade in the street. Her father tells the full story. 

It was a lively Saturday afternoon in east London’s Mile End. Groups of people streamed through residential streets on their way to a music festival in the local park; booming bass could be heard from the surrounding houses.

One five-year-old girl who lived in the area had an idea. She had been to her school’s summer fête recently and looked longingly at the stalls. She loved the idea of setting up her own stall, and today was a good day for it.

“She eventually came round to the idea of selling lemonade,” her father André Spicer tells me. So he and his daughter went to their local shop to buy some lemons. They mixed a few jugs of lemonade, the girl made a fetching A4 sign with some lemons drawn on it – 50p for a small cup, £1 for a large – and they carried a table from home to the end of their road. 

“People suddenly started coming up and buying stuff, pretty quickly, and they were very happy,” Spicer recalls. “People looked overjoyed at this cute little girl on the side of the road – community feel and all that sort of stuff.”

But the heart-warming scene was soon interrupted. After about half an hour of what Spicer describes as “brisk” trade – his daughter’s recipe secret was some mint and a little bit of cucumber, for a “bit of a British touch” – four enforcement officers came striding up to the stand.

Three were in uniform, and one was in plain clothes. One uniformed officer turned the camera on his vest on, and began reciting a legal script at the weeping five-year-old.

“You’re trading without a licence, pursuant to x, y, z act and blah dah dah dah, really going through a script,” Spicer tells me, saying they showed no compassion for his daughter. “This is my job, I’m doing it and that’s it, basically.”

The girl burst into tears the moment they arrived.

“Officials have some degree of intimidation. I’m a grown adult, so I wasn’t super intimidated, but I was a bit shocked,” says Spicer. “But my daughter was intimidated. She started crying straight away.”

As they continued to recite their legalese, her father picked her up to try to comfort her – but that didn’t stop the officers giving her stall a £150 fine and handing them a penalty notice. “TRADING WITHOUT LICENCE,” it screamed.

Picture: André Spicer

“She was crying and repeating, ‘I’ve done a bad thing’,” says Spicer. “As we walked home, I had to try and convince her that it wasn’t her, it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her who had done something bad.”

She cried all the way home, and it wasn’t until she watched her favourite film, Brave, that she calmed down. It was then that Spicer suggested next time they would “do it all correctly”, get a permit, and set up another stand.

“No, I don’t want to, it’s a bit scary to do it again,” she replied. Her father hopes that “she’ll be able to get over it”, and that her enterprising spirit will return.

The Council has since apologised and cancelled the fine, and called on its officials to “show common sense and to use their powers sensibly”.

But Spicer felt “there’s a bigger principle here”, and wrote a piece for the Telegraph arguing that children in modern Britain are too restricted.

He would “absolutely” encourage his daughter to set up another stall, and “I’d encourage other people to go and do it as well. It’s a great way to spend a bit of time with the kids in the holidays, and they might learn something.”

A fitting reminder of the great life lesson: when life gives you a fixed penalty notice, make lemonade.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.