The story of the extraordinary life and times of Dame Anita Roddick, a tale as exuberant as her mane of unruly dark hair, is also the story of how niche preoccupations became main-stream concerns. We all recycle now, but in 1976, when Roddick first dispensed her range of 15 natural creams and potions in Brighton and allowed customers to refill bottles, a love of the planet may have been modish in some circles but it was also seen as inimical to commercial success.

Today it is viewed as normal, indeed desirable, for the chief executive of a major corporate to affirm his commitment to "greening" the business and to employ a well-staffed corporate social responsibility unit. General approbation surrounds Marks & Spencer's 100-point Plan A, which is aimed at making the retailer cabron neutral. But in the early 1980s, Roddick's environmental awareness was seen as frankly odd, leading to such nicknames as the "self-righteous diva of cocoa butter".

Although Body Shop floated on the Stock Exchange in 1984 and expanded into America in 1988, events that ought to have been seen as confirmation of Roddick's sure commercial touch, there were many jibes at her outspoken manner, firm opinions and frequent, although rather endearing, inconsistencies. Margaret Thatcher was in power, but somehow a woman at No 10 seemed less extraordinary than a forceful entrepreneur bent on establishing a global brand with good karma. As we assess Roddick's legacy as an instinctive marketer and the creator of an international retailer that today has 2,200 stores, it is interesting to ponder whether we have made as much progress on the road to equality in the boardroom as to corporate eco-consciousness.

Yesterday, leading businessmen such as Marks & Spencer's Stuart Rose and Sir Philip Green of Arcadia and BhS paid tribute to Roddick's key role in developing a different style of business. But there were no women of equal stature to deliver the kind of pithy quote that Roddick would have supplied. Body & Soul, her autobiography published in 1996 contained her sometimes wacky, occasionally ridiculous, but always well-meaning management musings. But her most famous contribution to a dictionary of famous business sayings will probably be her description of City analysts as "pin-striped dinosaurs".

This not necessarily helpful remark was made when the stock market fortunes of the previously unstoppable Body Shop foundered in the early Nineties. The shares slumped: once they had been considered to be gravity defying, based on the fast organic growth of the chain. Profits fell and US performance, in particular, was poor, as a result of issues at the company's franchised stores. The ethical credentials of the company were also in doubt. Indeed, even Roddick's right to claim that she was a pioneer in the field of nonanimal tested green cosmetics was questioned: the original business thinker was decried as a copycat

The company's problems lasted for a decade: between 1991 and 2001 its value fell from £700 million to £154 million, a pitiable figure for a name with international recognition. Roddick's own huge fortune also suffered a considerable reverse. Some critics saw her public outpourings about her contempt for wealth and possessions as a cover for private grief about the receding of her power and influence, but Roddick did not blame herself for the company's predicament. She held the decision to start franchising as the start of the troubles, declaring that she and her husband Gordon were poor at recruiting personnel, perhaps because the interviews were more about the candidates' music tastes and thoughts about the rain forest.

She said: "Some business student should write a case study about our unerring ability to consistently employ the wrong people." It should be noted that whenever Roddick was forced to talk about bad stuff, "I" changed to "we", the "we" being her husband and fellow director.

Roddick may have disliked comparisons with Thatcher and denied also that her zeal for building a business made her "one of Thatcher's children". But there are too many parallels between the relationship between Margaret and Denis and Anita and Gordon to be ignored. Gordon may not have been a backstage figure - he held an executive role in the company, as chairman - but, like Denis, he was responsible for pouring oil on troubled waters in the wake of his outspoken spouse, who was seldom on the best of terms with the City. It is, however, doubtful whether Denis would ever have described his function as like being in the circus, "shovelling up the dung after the elephants". Gordon contrived to be supremely diplomatic, despite a stammer: the City would sometimes find his hesitation something of a relief after his wife's outbursts. The Gordon and Anita double act survived his affair with a PR woman: again, despite her public protestations that such things had no importance, you wondered at her private feelings about the liaison.

In 1998, the woman who started out with one small shop in Brighton stood down as chief executive of her business. In 2002 the Roddicks left their posts as co-chairmen. In March last year the group was sold to L'Oreal for £652 million, from which the Roddicks netted £117 million. Roddick was denounced for "selling out". But the eternal hippy chick was unrepentant, arguing that her ethical considerations had become the big business norm. This is a point open to argument, but it cannot be denied that Roddick helped us to see that being ethical and successful are not necessarily contradictory. Making women with unruly hair feel OK about not being Timotei girls is another smaller, but still significant, achievement.