Knots, Notes, and Inside Jokes: The Secret Language of ’90s Girlhood

For girls growing up in the 1990s, friendship wasn’t about likes or follows—it was about knots tied tight into friendship bracelets, notes folded into origami masterpieces, and the quiet power of inside jokes that lived off the page and inside our hearts.

The language of ’90s girlhood wasn’t spoken out loud—it was written on wide-ruled notebook paper, tied around our wrists, or tucked secretly into a Lisa Frank folder. It was subtle, intimate, and sacred. And though the world has moved on to emojis and DMs, the memory of that beautiful analog bond lingers like the faint smell of cucumber melon body spray.

The Love Letter That Was the Passed Note

Few things felt as exhilarating as the rustle of paper sliding across a desk when the teacher wasn’t looking. Notes weren’t just communication—they were artifacts. We mastered the intricate fold techniques: the square tuck, the heart-shaped fold, the triangular envelope with “Open Me” scribbled on the outside.

Inside? Confessions of crushes, rankings of boy band members, doodles of your initials intertwined with the cute guy from homeroom. “Do you like him? Check yes, no, or maybe” wasn’t just a cliché—it was a legitimate negotiation of adolescent hope.

Sometimes the notes were long and winding, pages upon pages of heartfelt venting about school drama, parents, or why Brittany was being so annoying right now. And the signature? Always dramatic: “BFFL” (Best Friends for Life), “LYLAS” (Love You Like A Sister), or just a bubbly heart drawn over the i’s.

Every note was a treasure, a tiny paperback diary entry that you got to keep—and reread a dozen times on your bed at home.

Friendship Bracelets: Love Woven into Every Knot

To give a friend a bracelet you made yourself? That was serious. These weren’t casual accessories—they were symbols. Whether you were knotting together the simplest candy stripe pattern or getting fancy with chevrons and diamonds, every twist of the floss was time spent thinking about your best friend.

You planned the colors carefully: their favorite, your favorite, a meaningful combo. Did you pick neon for summer vibes? Pastels to match your butterfly clips? Maybe dark purples and blues because those felt deep and mature.

The longer it took to make, the more devotion it represented. And when that bracelet finally made its way onto your bestie’s wrist, it stayed there—until it wore thin and frayed from water balloon fights and rollerblading adventures. But even when it fell off, the memory of it stayed tied around your heart.

The Ritual of the Slam Book and Inside Jokes

There was always one girl who had the spiral notebook dubbed “the slam book.” Each page a question, each friend adding their answer anonymously or not-so-anonymously. “Who’s your crush?” “Best song right now?” “Most annoying teacher?” It was equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

Inside jokes often made their way into the slam book—and into your everyday banter. Catchphrases born at a sleepover, nicknames that made zero sense to outsiders but were laced with laughter for those in the know. Maybe it was a shared line from “Clueless” or a goofy mispronunciation that stuck like glue.

The magic was that it was yours. Not the internet’s. Not your parents’. Just you and your circle of girls, with jokes and codes and giggles that belonged only to your little world.

Decorated Folders, Sticker Trades, and the Art of Showing You Care

Your folder wasn’t just for organizing homework. It was your canvas. Puffy stickers, Lisa Frank rainbows, “No Fear” logos, smiley faces with sunglasses—all layered like a scrapbook of your current mood.

You might swap stickers with your friends, each trade negotiated with the gravity of international diplomacy. “I’ll give you my holographic dolphin for your glitter unicorn.” The sticker collection was a tangible expression of who you were, what you loved, and how you connected.

And sometimes, a friend would just give you the sticker they knew you wanted most. No trade, just love. A simple gesture that said, “I see you.”

Sleepover Diaries and Heartfelt Confessions

Those late-night sleepovers, sprawled out in sleeping bags on the living room floor, weren’t just about popcorn and “Now and Then.” They were therapy sessions, creativity workshops, and bonding ceremonies rolled into one.

Maybe someone brought a “crush journal,” or you spent hours crafting a new batch of friendship bracelets while ranking your favorite members of Backstreet Boys. Maybe you played “M.A.S.H.” or “Truth or Dare” until your sides hurt from laughing.

But somewhere between the junk food and the giggles came the real stuff—the tears, the confessions, the moments where you shared fears and dreams you didn’t say out loud anywhere else.

Love Languages Before We Knew the Term

We talk a lot now about “love languages”—words of affirmation, gifts, quality time—but ’90s girls already knew how to show love before we had the vocabulary for it.

Writing a note. Making a bracelet. Sharing a sticker. Spending three hours making a collage for your friend’s locker. Showing up to the mall with matching scrunchies. These were acts of devotion, of care, of saying “I’ve got you” without ever needing to spell it out. Our friendships were built on effort. On tiny, consistent gestures that wove a net strong enough to hold us through heartbreaks, bad test grades, and the wild rollercoaster of middle school emotions.

The Memory That Lasts

Many of those notes are gone now, crumpled and tossed, or stuffed in shoeboxes under old yearbooks. The bracelets wore off. The stickers peeled. But if you close your eyes, you can still feel it—that warmth of knowing someone took the time to fold you a note, to knot together a bracelet, to laugh at the same dumb inside joke for the hundredth time.

We didn’t need Wi-Fi to feel connected. We had friendship knots and scribbled hearts, slap bracelets and sticker trades, the beautiful analog language of girlhood.

And some part of us, even now, still speaks it fluently.