Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:
Funny, the SES disparity was bigger, but no one noticed it as much back then. A blessing in disguise. Now, everyone has to have this or that to be happy. When did we turn into a flock of sheeple?
Such a shame, truly.
No, its worse now. Statistics are clear about the declining middle class, increased number of families who are poor or nearly so and the rich being richer and owning more than anytime since the robber baron years.
Remember-one old family car, a Rambler, new shoes once a year, new clothes only on true sale, but mainly from thrift stores, dependent on the garden for food as fresh was scarce during the winter, dented canned food the norm, worked for money from the time you could (newspaper route, babysitting, odd jobs until I got my first job at 16). Interesting memories!
Anonymous wrote:For those who describe themselves as poor in the '70s, three questions:
1) How would you describe your SES now?
2) If you have experienced upward mobility, to what do you attribute this?
3) If you attribute your upward mobility to postsecondary education, how did you finance it?
(DCUM -- where would all of us amateur sociologists go without you?)
Anonymous wrote:
Funny, the SES disparity was bigger, but no one noticed it as much back then. A blessing in disguise. Now, everyone has to have this or that to be happy. When did we turn into a flock of sheeple?
Such a shame, truly.
Anonymous wrote:This is an interesting thread, though some of the memories of frugality are really about the '70s more than SES. I grew up in an affluent suburb of San Francisco in the '70s and my sisters and I all patched our jeans, made skirts out of jeans, and wore cut-offs. We were doctors' daughters and traveled to Europe in the summer, but the '70s were about not looking and acting like you were a rich girl. Think Patty Hearst; think Hall and Oates' "You're a Rich Girl". The sartorial tip-off that you had money was owning a pair of Frye boots. When I came east to go to college, my roommate, a college professor's daughter from the midwest, saw my boots and told everybody I was a debutante.
Anonymous wrote:We were middle class, but my parents were immigrants who grew up in the Depression (which was worldwide), not to mention war. They were beyond cheap. Soap - the cheapest at the store, that came in a bag. I longed for name brand soap. They saved everything - paper bags, string, tin foil. God forbid you dry your hands on a paper towel and throw it away. To this day I automatically dry my hands but save it, for next use. My mom constantly turned out lights, I could walk around the house in the dark, I was used to it. Cars were driven into the ground. Holes in the floor? You bet. Heater didn't work right - usually the Fords.

Anonymous wrote:I remember when a hole rusted through the floor of our car, and you could see a small path of the roadway blurring by if yo looked down. My dad welded a baking sheet to the floor to patch the hole. Problem solved!