7 possessions from the 70s that middle-class families displayed to show they'd "made it"

The 1970s had a special kind of confidence, more like a steady, “We’re doing okay,” communicated through the stuff in your living room, your kitchen, and sometimes your hallway.

Back then, you displayed them your wins.

What’s funny is that we still do this, we just swapped console TVs for flat screens, encyclopedias for curated bookshelves, and stereo systems for the right-looking coffee machine.

As we go through these seven “we made it” possessions, I want you to keep asking yourself one question: What am I trying to signal with the things I keep in plain sight?

1) A console color TV

If you grew up around older relatives, you probably know the vibe: A big wooden cabinet, a screen that felt huge at the time, and a spot in the living room that basically said, “This is the center of the home.”

A color TV was proof you could afford something beyond the basics, and the console part mattered too as it looked like furniture (like it belonged).

Here’s what I think was really going on: the console TV gave families a shared “main character” object.

Something guests would notice immediately, and something that made your home feel current.

If you’ve ever felt a weird urge to upgrade something that technically still works, ask yourself: Am I upgrading for my comfort, or for my image?

Sometimes it’s both, but it’s good to know which one is driving.

2) A big stereo and record player

A proper stereo setup, speakers, receiver, turntable, maybe even an 8-track player, was a flex in a “we care about quality” way.

Music in the 70s was social as people played albums while cooking, while hosting, while cleaning.

A serious sound system said: We have taste, we have leisure time, we have money to spend on something that’s not strictly necessary.

I love how this one ties to identity as, even now, we use music to tell people who we are.

Here’s your self-development angle: What do you use to signal your identity today? Clothes? Tech? A certain brand of anything?

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying nice things.

The point is to make sure your “signal” still matches the real you, not the version you think you’re supposed to be.

3) A full set of encyclopedias

This might be my favorite because it’s such a specific kind of status symbol.

Encyclopedias were expensive, they took up space, and they sat there looking impressive, even if nobody touched them for months.

But, that was the point.

They didn’t just say “we have money,” they said “we value education,” or at least, “we want to look like we value education.”

I’ve heard people joke that encyclopedias were the original “aesthetic shelf,” and (honestly) they kind of were.

Here’s the reflective question: Do you own anything that represents your aspirational self more than your actual self?

As a former financial analyst, I can tell you this is one of the easiest ways to quietly drain your budget.

Buying for the person you plan to become can be inspiring, but it can also turn into expensive guilt sitting on a shelf.

A good rule I live by: Invest in the next step, not the whole fantasy.

4) A microwave oven

Microwaves started showing up in more middle-class homes in the 70s, and once they did, it felt like the future had arrived in your kitchen.

A microwave was a symbol of modern living.

Faster meals, less hassle, more time; it hinted that you had a lifestyle busy enough to need shortcuts, but comfortable enough to afford them.

There’s something psychologically sneaky about “time-saving” status symbols.

They promise relief, and they whisper, “You can finally keep up.”

If you’re someone who keeps buying things that promise to make life easier, pause and ask: What am I really trying to solve, time or stress?

Sometimes the problem is your expectations.

5) A dishwasher

Dishwashers were another quiet luxury; not everyone had one, and plenty of people saw them as unnecessary.

However, if you did have one, it suggested a certain kind of household: Dinners, guests, family meals, and maybe even a sense of “we’re settled.”

It also carried a message that hits close to home for a lot of us: We’re past survival mode.

I notice the modern version of this is anything that outsources effort.

Meal kits, robot vacuums, laundry pickup; not because we’re lazy, but because we’re tired.

Here’s the practical takeaway: If you’re spending money to buy back time, make sure you’re actually using that time well.

Are you resting, connecting, creating, or are you just filling the freed-up time with more tasks?

Time-saving tools are great, but only if they lead to time you can actually feel.

6) Wall-to-wall carpet or a shag rug

Nothing says 70s like carpet that looks like it could swallow a shoe.

Wall-to-wall carpet (or a dramatic shag rug) made a space feel “finished.”

It softened everything, it muted noise, and it made the room feel warm and, honestly, a little bit fancy.

Since it was so visible, it worked as a form of social proof.

Guests saw it right away; you didn’t have to say anything because the floor said it for you.

What I find interesting is how often status symbols are tied to comfort; comfort that can be seen publicly.

So try this: Walk through your home and notice what’s “performative comfort.”

The throw pillows no one uses, the guest towels nobody touches, or the items you keep because they look like a certain kind of life.

Then ask: What would comfort look like if nobody else ever saw it?

That answer can be weirdly freeing.

7) A formal dining set and china cabinet

The formal dining room was basically a stage: A big table, matching chairs, and a cabinet with china or crystal that came out for holidays, if it came out at all.

Even if families mostly ate in the kitchen, the formal setup represented arrival.

It said, “We host,” and it said, “We have traditions.”

However, it also carried pressure.

Once you own the “hosting” setup, you’re kind of expected to be the type of person who hosts.

This is where I’ll drop a truth I’ve learned from watching people (and from catching myself): Possessions can quietly assign you roles.

Gym equipment says you’re a gym person, while a perfectly styled living room says you’re the type who always has it together.

If you feel burdened by your own stuff, it might be because it’s asking you to live a life you don’t even want anymore.

So ask yourself: What role am I trying to earn? And do I actually want it?

Final thoughts

The 70s “we made it” items were rarely about the object itself.

They were about what the object represented: Stability, progress, taste, education, modernity, comfort, and respectability.

Look, I’m not here to shame any of it.

Middle-class families worked hard, and displaying success was often a way of saying, “We’re safe now,” and that’s deeply human.

If you’re a curious self-observer (and if you’re reading VegOutMag, you probably are), there’s a bigger lesson here: Status symbols change, while the need to feel secure and seen doesn’t.

You don’t have to throw everything out and become a minimalist monk.

The most powerful “we made it” signal is the calm that comes from knowing you don’t need to prove anything anymore.