22 Things Every ’90s Kid Spent Their Allowance On

Remember those precious dollars you’d carefully save each week back in the ’90s?

That hard-earned allowance felt like a fortune to us, a passport to freedom and fun in a world untouched by smartphones, streaming, or social media. We’d hoard our coins and crumpled bills like tiny financial wizards, calculating every cent with the seriousness of a Wall Street trader.

Each dollar had a purpose—whether it was destined for the latest toy, candy stash, or a new pack of trading cards. Our spending was strategic, our excitement unmatched. Join me on a nostalgic trip back to those glorious days of slap bracelets, Tamagotchis, boy bands, and the unforgettable screech of dial-up internet. Let’s relive the treasures that made the ’90s unforgettable.

1. Tamagotchi Digital Pets

My first Tamagotchi was a purple egg-shaped wonder that demanded more attention than my actual family pet. These digital creatures from Japan became an overnight sensation, turning us all into sleep-deprived caretakers obsessed with keeping pixelated pets alive.

School teachers everywhere grew to despise these electronic companions as classroom focus evaporated in favor of feeding, cleaning, and playing with our virtual dependents. The heartbreak of discovering your neglected Tamagotchi had passed away while you were at soccer practice was a uniquely ’90s trauma.

Many of us blew multiple allowances replacing batteries or upgrading to newer models with color screens and more features. The struggle was real, but so was the joy!

2. Pogs and Slammers

Cardboard discs with cool designs became the playground currency of choice. I once traded my lunch for a holographic skull slammer that I still consider the greatest deal of my childhood. Pogs originated from milk caps in Hawaii before sweeping across America like wildfire.

The game was simple yet addictive – stack your pogs, slam them with a heavier disc called a slammer, and collect the ones that landed face-up. Parents never understood why we hoarded these circular treasures or why we’d weep when schools eventually banned them for being “gambling.”

Serious players invested in protective tubes and specialty cases to transport their collections, treating them with the reverence usually reserved for precious gems.

3. Blockbuster Video Rentals

Friday nights meant one thing: convincing Mom to drive to Blockbuster where I’d spend ages selecting the perfect weekend movie. The pressure was immense – choose wrong and you’d waste precious allowance and viewing time on a dud.

Walking those blue-carpeted aisles, scanning rows of VHS tapes with their oversized plastic cases, felt like exploring a treasure trove of possibilities. The distinctive smell of popcorn and plastic permeated everything while employees in blue shirts recommended the latest releases.

Nothing matched the satisfaction of snagging the last copy of a hot new release or the dread of late fees when you forgot to rewind and return on time. Those magical words – “Be Kind, Rewind” – still echo in my memories.

4. Beanie Babies

Ty Warner’s genius bean-filled creations sparked the collecting frenzy that emptied my piggy bank faster than anything else. Each plush animal came with a heart-shaped tag and a birthday, transforming simple stuffed toys into “investments” we swore would fund our college education.

Protecting those precious tags became an obsession – plastic tag protectors were essential purchases for serious collectors. I remember begging my mom to drive to three different stores hunting for the elusive Princess Diana bear, convinced it would make me rich someday.

Magazines like Beanie World fueled our mania with price guides and “retirement” announcements that sent us into a buying panic. Little did we know our precious collections would eventually end up in attic storage instead of funding our futures!

5. Lisa Frank School Supplies

Rainbow dolphins, neon puppies, and technicolor unicorns dominated my school supplies thanks to Lisa Frank’s psychedelic designs. Nothing announced “cool kid” status like pulling out a folder featuring fluorescent animals against cosmic backgrounds.

The Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper represented the pinnacle of organizational aspiration, though I mostly used mine to collect stickers and notes from friends. Those vibrant designs cost premium prices, making each purchase a significant investment of my allowance funds.

My bedroom gradually transformed into a Lisa Frank wonderland with posters, stationery, and even bedding showcasing those signature rainbow-hued creatures. The brand perfectly captured our ’90s aesthetic – bold, unapologetically colorful, and slightly trippy in the best possible way.

6. Pokémon Cards

Gotta catch ’em all! That slogan emptied my pockets weekly as I hunted for holographic Charizards and rare Pikachus. The thrill of opening a new pack, slowly revealing each card while praying for something spectacular, created an addictive dopamine rush no modern mobile game can match.

Trading sessions at lunch tables turned into high-stakes negotiations worthy of Wall Street. I once traded six cards for a single holographic Blastoise and considered it the deal of the century. Playground rumors about which cards were actually valuable spread faster than gossip about who had crushes on whom.

Protective sleeves became essential purchases to preserve our cardboard treasures. Parents nationwide rolled their eyes at our insistence that these colorful monster cards were serious investments rather than just another passing fad.

7. Lip Smackers Flavored Balms

My collection of Lip Smackers was legendary – Dr. Pepper was my signature flavor, though Strawberry Kiwi ran a close second. These flavored lip balms from Bonne Bell were essential accessories, dangling from keychains and filling pencil cases across America.

Trading flavors became a friendship ritual during recess. The sparkly ones cost extra but were worth every penny for the status they conferred in the cafeteria hierarchy. Some flavors tasted so good we’d practically eat them, reapplying constantly until the tube was mysteriously empty after just days.

Holiday gift sets with multiple flavors were the jackpot of birthday and Christmas presents. I’d carefully arrange my growing collection on my dresser, organizing by flavor category with the dedication of a museum curator handling precious artifacts.

8. Giga Pets and Nano Babies

Not content with just Tamagotchis, I blew two weeks of allowance on a Giga Pet dinosaur that required even more attention than its Japanese competitor. These keychain-sized digital pets offered alternatives for kids who wanted something different from the Tamagotchi craze.

Caring for these pixelated creatures during school hours required ninja-level stealth. I became a master at feeding my digital dino under my desk while maintaining eye contact with my teacher. The battery compartment required a tiny screwdriver, which naturally meant an additional purchase for serious digital pet parents.

Comparing our creatures’ growth and achievements became a playground pastime. The devastation of a dead screen after forgetting to change batteries prompted dramatic mourning periods before we inevitably saved up to buy another digital dependent.

9. Spice Girls Merchandise

Girl Power emptied my wallet faster than you could say “Zig-a-zig-ah!” As a devoted Spice Girls fan, I collected everything from lollipops with stickers to platform sneakers that my mom reluctantly allowed me to wear.

The Spice World movie premiere was a financial reckoning – ticket, soundtrack CD, and t-shirt purchased in one glorious but budget-busting afternoon. Deciding which Spice Girl you identified with was a serious personality assessment; I wavered between Sporty and Baby depending on my mood that week.

Magazine covers featuring the fab five were carefully preserved in plastic sleeves, while posters transformed bedroom walls nationwide. The reunion tours years later proved our devotion wasn’t just childhood fancy but a genuine cultural movement that shaped a generation of empowered ’90s kids.

10. Slap Bracelets

Banned in many schools but beloved by every kid with functioning wrists, slap bracelets were the accessory that combined fashion with minor self-harm. That satisfying *SLAP* as the metal band wrapped around your arm was worth every penny of the $1.99 price tag.

The rainbow metallic versions were the crown jewels of any collection, though the fabric-covered varieties offered safer alternatives after rumors spread about the metal ones causing injuries. Trading these wearable weapons during recess became a social currency system rivaling the stock market.

My parents couldn’t understand why I needed seventeen different colors and patterns. The answer was obvious to my nine-year-old self: because they existed and my friends had them. Some fashion logic remains timeless, even decades later.

11. Bubble Tape Gum

Six feet of sugary pink temptation wrapped in a plastic hockey puck container – Bubble Tape was the gum that taught us poor portion control. The commercials claimed it was “for you, not them,” but sharing this spiral of flavor was actually a friendship power move.

Unrolling an excessive length of gum while maintaining eye contact with friends established dominance in the cafeteria hierarchy. The gum lost its flavor faster than we could blow decent bubbles, but that never stopped us from stuffing our mouths with impractical amounts.

Empty Bubble Tape containers became storage for tiny treasures like Polly Pocket accessories or secret notes. Parents hated finding the sticky residue in pockets during laundry day, but we considered it a small price to pay for six feet of chewing satisfaction.

12. Creepy Crawlers Bug Making Oven

Creating rubbery bugs in my Creepy Crawlers oven was the highlight of rainy weekends, despite the questionable fumes it produced. This toy was essentially an Easy-Bake Oven’s twisted cousin, using “Plasti-Goop” instead of cake mix to create colorful insects and arachnids.

The metal molds would get scorching hot – I still have a tiny scar on my thumb from an impatient extraction attempt. Mixing different colored goop created tie-dye effects that made my bugs the envy of the neighborhood kids who hadn’t convinced their parents to buy this slightly hazardous toy.

Each bug cost precious Goop refills, making each creation a financial investment. The smell of cooking plastic permeated the house, much to my mother’s dismay, but the joy of peeling a perfect rubbery spider from its mold was worth the inevitable lecture about ventilation.

13. Arcade Tokens and Tickets

Stepping into an arcade with pockets full of tokens felt like entering a casino with unlimited credit. The flashing lights of Skee-Ball lanes and whack-a-mole machines beckoned me to exchange real money for the chance at paper tickets and dubious prizes.

Mathematical geniuses were made at arcades as we calculated the token-to-ticket ratio required for that giant stuffed banana hanging on the prize wall. Reality check: that banana cost approximately $47 in tokens, but we remained undeterred in our quest.

The ticket counting machines were simultaneously thrilling and disappointing – watching 200 tickets translate to a plastic spider ring and two Tootsie Rolls was an early lesson in economic disappointment. Yet we returned weekend after weekend, feeding our allowances into machines in pursuit of high scores and paper wealth.

14. Goosebumps Books

R.L. Stine’s creepy creations with their instantly recognizable covers were my literary addiction throughout elementary school. Each new release day found me at the bookstore, clutching my allowance and ready to be terrified by tales of ventriloquist dummies and monster blood.

The scholastic book fair was a financial danger zone where I’d blow months of savings on multiple titles at once. Those raised-letter covers with their lurid colors promised nightmares that somehow seemed worth the investment. I arranged my collection in numerical order on my bookshelf, a colorful parade of kid-friendly horror.

Trading books with friends extended our reading budgets, though certain favorites like “Say Cheese and Die!” never left my possession. The fear these books induced was perfectly calibrated – scary enough to feel dangerous but safe enough to read under the covers with a flashlight.

15. Super Soakers

Summer warfare evolved dramatically when Lonnie Johnson’s water weapon hit the market. My first Super Soaker 50 was quickly outclassed by friends with the massive Super Soaker 300, prompting an arms race that drained my savings account.

Neighborhood water fights became strategic military operations. I’d save for weeks to afford the latest model with increased water capacity and shooting distance. The distinctive sound of pumping pressure into these colorful plastic weapons still triggers nostalgic memories of surprise attacks and soaked clothing.

Parents nationwide united in their hatred of these devices, particularly when indoor ambushes resulted in soaked furniture. The investment wasn’t just the initial purchase – water balloons as supplementary ammunition and replacement O-rings for leaky models created an ongoing expense that seemed entirely reasonable to my summer-loving self.

16. Warheads Extreme Sour Candy

My taste buds still haven’t fully recovered from the nuclear assault of Warheads candy. These innocent-looking hard candies packed an acidic punch that turned playground candy consumption into an extreme sport worthy of ESPN coverage.

Challenges to see who could eat the most Warheads simultaneously became tests of childhood courage. The sour coating would eventually give way to a sweet center, but those first 30 seconds were pure face-contorting agony that we willingly paid for. Black cherry was widely acknowledged as the most brutal flavor, reserved for only the bravest souls.

Corner stores sold them individually for pocket change, making them the perfect impulse purchase with leftover allowance money. The wrapper featured a cartoon character’s face imploding from sourness – truth in advertising at its finest and a perfect representation of our own reactions.

17. Inflatable Furniture

Nothing said “sophisticated preteen” quite like a transparent purple inflatable chair from Limited Too or Delia’s. My room featured an entire inflatable furniture set – chair, ottoman, and even a sofa that made embarrassing noises whenever anyone sat down too quickly.

These vinyl wonders required serious lung power or a bike pump to inflate. The struggle was real, but the resulting room makeover seemed worth the light-headedness and inevitable deflation disasters. Summer heat turned these trendy seats into sticky plastic torture devices that would attach themselves to bare legs.

Despite their impracticality, inflatable furniture represented peak ’90s aesthetic goals. Every sleepover featured at least one catastrophic puncture incident, usually discovered at 2 AM when someone rolled over onto a pencil. Repair kits became essential secondary purchases for serious inflatable furniture enthusiasts.

18. Yo-Yos and Skill Toys

The Great Yo-Yo Revival of the ’90s transformed simple toys into status symbols requiring serious financial investment. My Yomega Brain with its automatic clutch system cost nearly a month’s allowance but promised trick capabilities worth every penny.

School playgrounds became performance venues for “walking the dog” and attempting the elusive “around the world” trick. Professional demonstrators would visit toy stores, executing impossible maneuvers that convinced us we needed their signature models. Special strings, bearing lubricant, and trick books created an entire economy around what used to be a simple toy.

Yo-yo competitions aired on TV, legitimizing our obsession and providing new tricks to attempt (and fail at spectacularly). When we inevitably tangled our expensive yo-yos into knots or smashed them into concrete, we’d simply start saving for the next must-have model.

19. Disposable Cameras

Long before smartphones captured every moment, we documented our lives with those little cardboard and plastic wonders from Kodak. Each 27-exposure roll was a limited resource to be used wisely – no checking if you got a good shot or deleting unflattering angles.

School field trips and sleepovers warranted fresh camera purchases, followed by the agonizing wait for development at the local pharmacy. The anticipation of picking up prints was unmatched, especially when you’d forgotten what you’d even photographed weeks earlier. Half-closed eyes and accidental thumb coverage were part of the authentic experience.

The satisfying mechanical click and wind of the film advance wheel can never be replicated by digital shutter sounds. The development costs often exceeded the camera price, making each physical photograph a genuine investment in preserving memories.

20. Friendship Bracelet Thread

Embroidery floss transformed ordinary wrists into showcases of friendship and manual dexterity. I’d spend hours in craft stores selecting the perfect color combinations, convinced that my friendship bracelet game would improve with professional-grade thread.

Creating these woven wonders required serious commitment – a half-finished bracelet safety-pinned to your jeans could be a fashion statement for weeks. Pattern books with increasingly complex designs were essential purchases for anyone looking to elevate their bracelet crafting beyond basic stripes.

The exchange of these handmade treasures formalized playground alliances and created binding contracts of BFF status. My allowance funded an extensive collection of thread organized by color family in a special box, demonstrating a level of organization I’ve never again achieved in my adult life.

21. Movie Theater Concessions

Watching “Jurassic Park” or “The Lion King” on the big screen required strategic financial planning to afford both ticket and essential snack purchases. The concession stand was a palace of overpriced delights that somehow tasted better than their grocery store counterparts.

Popcorn with “butter” pumped from those magical metal dispensers cost more per ounce than filet mignon but was non-negotiable for the authentic cinema experience. I’d carefully calculate whether to blow my budget on a large popcorn or diversify my snack portfolio with Swedish Fish and a smaller popcorn serving.

Sneaking in outside candy became a covert operation worthy of Mission Impossible, with elaborate pocket and purse hiding schemes. The crackling sound of smuggled candy wrappers opening during quiet movie moments created heart-stopping tension no horror film could match.

22. Temporary Tattoos and Body Glitter

Transforming into a walking disco ball required significant financial resources in the ’90s. Temporary tattoos from gumball machines were gateway body art before upgrading to premium versions featuring tribal designs and butterflies that lasted through at least one shower.

Body glitter in roll-on applicators became essential for school dances and hanging out at the mall. The more you sparkled, the cooler you were – a simple equation that justified spending allowance money on products that would eventually find their way into every crevice of your home. Parents nationwide still find random glitter from 1997 in their carpet fibers.

Applying these temporary embellishments was serious business, often done in groups with critical feedback on placement and density. The resulting sparkly arms and butterfly-adorned ankles made us feel like celebrities, even if we were just heading to the food court.