Baby Oil

In the Republic of Gilead, where the regime systematically strips women of their former identities and reduces them to their reproductive functions, the most ordinary objects can become charged with unexpected significance. Baby oil, a simple cosmetic product, is one such object. For the Handmaids, it is not merely a moisturizer but a vital, secret tool of self-preservation and a fragile link to a lost world of personal care and desire.

Appearance and Use

Baby oil appears in the novel during the birth of Janine's baby, where it is used in its most straightforward, sanctioned function. As Janine labors on the birthing bed, a woman lifts her nightgown, pours baby oil onto her swollen stomach, and rubs downward, a practical aid to ease the delivery. This moment, witnessed by Offred and the other Handmaids gathered for the Birth Day, is the only time the substance is employed for its intended, official purpose within the narrative.

A Substitute for Forbidden Luxury

Far more significant is the oil's role in the private, illicit rituals of the Handmaids. In Gilead, hand lotion and face cream are considered vanities and are forbidden to them. The Wives, who resent the Handmaids' potential attractiveness, decreed this absence. The regime cares only for the insides of a woman's body; the outside can become hard and wrinkled, like the shell of a nut. To combat this enforced neglect, the Handmaids have developed a secret practice: they use butter, or when they can get it, margarine, to soften their skin. Offred learned this trick at the Rachel and Leah Re-education Center, the Red Center, and knows that her predecessor in the room, the woman who scratched the Latin message on the cupboard wall, must have done the same. "We all do it," she reflects. This collective, unspoken ceremony is a form of private resistance, a way to believe that they will someday be touched again, in love or desire.

A Gift and a Bargaining Chip

The Commander, in his clandestine nighttime meetings with Offred, becomes a source of this precious commodity. When Offred asks him for hand lotion, he is initially puzzled, musing on the cleverness of using butter. He eventually provides her with a small, unlabeled plastic bottle of what is likely a hospital-grade lotion, smelling faintly of vegetable oil—a far cry from the perfumed creams of the past. Offred must keep the bottle hidden in his study, as her room is subject to searches. This exchange highlights the Commander's profound ignorance of the real conditions of the Handmaids' lives, while also revealing the transactional nature of their relationship: he provides small luxuries in return for her company and the illusion of intimacy.

The Oil's Deeper Significance

The use of baby oil and butter is a poignant act of self-care that goes beyond mere physical maintenance. By anointing their own skin, the Handmaids assert a claim to their own bodies, a claim the regime denies them. The act is a ceremony of hope, a way of preserving a sense of self that is separate from their function as "two-legged wombs." Offred notes that as long as they do this, they can believe they will someday get out, that they will be touched again in love or desire. The oil, therefore, is not just a moisturizer; it is a material anchor for a future they must imagine into being. It is a small, tangible defiance against a system designed to grind them down, a way of keeping the skin—and the spirit—from becoming hard and dead.