1. Driving a Station Wagon with Wood Paneling
That faux-wood exterior on a long-body Ford Country Squire wasn’t just for looks—it was a badge of middle-class reliability and family planning. These cars were big enough to haul kids, groceries, and a dog, which meant you had all three. Station wagons were family-first vehicles, and the wood grain added a touch of luxury, like the mahogany trim on a yacht (or so it felt). The bigger the car, the bigger the statement.
They were often shown in car ads cruising through suburban neighborhoods or parked at Little League games. If your family had one, it meant you were thriving in the suburbs and needed all that space because of your successful nuclear setup. The gas bills were no joke either—owning one meant you could afford the upkeep. Today, they’ve been replaced by SUVs, but back then, nothing said “American Dream” louder.
2. Installing a Wet Bar in the Basement
A finished basement was already a sign that you were living the dream, but a wet bar down there? That was upper-middle-class theater in split-level form. In the 1970s and 1980s, having a home bar—complete with mirrored backsplashes, faux wood paneling, and a couple of swivel stools—was peak suburban swagger. It said you were a sociable host, a bit cosmopolitan, maybe even a little Don Draper-esque.
What made it a flex was that the wet bar wasn’t functional so much as symbolic. You didn’t need it—but if you had it, you were showing people you had money for wants, not just needs. Some families even bragged about what liquor they stocked, or how many bottles of Galliano they had “just in case.” It was suburban luxury made accessible, and it had real party cred.
3. Getting Your Photos Developed in One Hour
In the late ’80s and early ’90s, going to a one-hour photo lab instead of waiting a week at the drugstore meant you were a modern family who valued both time and technology. These kiosks started popping up in strip mall parking lots and became a subtle but clear sign that you had a camera and cash to spare. Getting your photos back quickly was both a convenience and a quiet brag—like saying, “We have things going on worth capturing fast.”
One-hour photo shops weren’t cheap, but they were thrilling—immediate satisfaction in a pre-digital age. People would talk about it: “I just dropped it off—back in an hour!” It felt cutting-edge, even though it was really just faster film processing. Now it’s hard to remember a time when people waited for photos at all, much less showed off how fast they could get them.
4. Having Matching Living Room Furniture Sets
Walk into any respectable suburban home in the ’70s or ’80s, and you’d likely see a matching couch, loveseat, and recliner—maybe even with coordinating end tables. These weren’t random hand-me-downs or mismatched Craigslist finds. They were showroom sets, often from Sears or La-Z-Boy, and they were bought all at once, financed if necessary. Owning an entire set meant you could afford cohesion, not just comfort.
This was a generation that equated good taste with uniformity and order. The more things matched, the more it showed you’d planned and paid for it—on purpose. It was also a way to keep up with the Joneses, who were probably showing off their own floral-patterned sectional. And don’t forget the plastic covers that preserved the set’s pristine condition—that was another layer of flex in itself.
5. Sending Kids to Space Camp or Computer Camp
If your kid came back from summer with a Space Camp jumpsuit or a floppy disk full of BASIC code from computer camp, it meant your family was future-forward and flush enough to afford enrichment. These camps were pricey and usually required travel, which added to their exclusivity. Sending your child was both a parenting flex and an investment in perceived success. “My kid’s not just hanging around the neighborhood—they’re training for NASA.”
Programs like these exploded in popularity during the ’80s tech and science boom. They told the world your child was gifted and your family was well-off enough to feed that potential. It also meant you weren’t just relying on public school to open doors—you were buying extra keys. Bonus points if the camp was out of state.
6. Owning a Deep Freezer in the Garage
Back in the ’60s through the ’80s, nothing screamed “we’ve made it” quite like a massive chest freezer humming along in the garage or basement. It wasn’t just about convenience—it was about stocking up on bulk meat from the butcher, frozen vegetables, and TV dinners from the new warehouse clubs. A full deep freezer was a subtle way of showing that your family could afford to plan ahead, eat well, and never worry about going without. It also aligned with the era’s obsession with domestic preparedness during the Cold War.
These freezers were often bigger than today’s mini fridges and took up half a wall, and that was the point. Families would even show off their frozen inventory to guests, highlighting their bargain finds and meat haul from the local A&P or Costco’s precursor, Price Club. For working-class families newly rising into the middle class, it was a quiet form of security and pride. And in a time before daily Amazon deliveries, stockpiling was a real status move.
7. Owning an Encyclopedia Set
Before the internet, an entire encyclopedia set—especially a gold-trimmed Britannica—was the cornerstone of intellectual affluence. These multi-volume collections weren’t cheap, often sold door-to-door with payment plans, but they made your living room look cultured. Owning them implied that education and upward mobility were valued in the household. Guests would often be invited to marvel at the shelves, even if nobody had cracked open Volume Q in years.
The purchase wasn’t just about information—it was aspirational. You didn’t just want your kids to do well in school; you wanted them to seem academic. Some sets were even color-coded to match the decor, blending prestige with polish. And if you had the annual update volumes? You were on another level.
8. Having a Cordless Phone (with a Big Antenna)
When cordless phones hit the mainstream in the late ’80s, they were a revelation—and a massive flex. Suddenly, you could walk from the kitchen to the backyard while talking to your friend or work contact. The phones were bulky, with long antennas and clunky charging bases, but they screamed “tech-savvy homeowner.” If you had two handsets? You were living large.
Cordless phones were usually sold at places like RadioShack or Sears and cost far more than regular landlines. Kids would fight over them and carry them around like status symbols. And that static-filled call from the driveway? Totally worth it if it meant you weren’t tethered to the wall anymore.
9. Installing a Built-In Intercom System
Intercoms weren’t just for schools or hospitals—they showed up in new builds and higher-end remodels throughout the ’70s and ’80s. These systems connected different rooms so parents could call the kids from upstairs or buzz the kitchen from the garage. They often came paired with AM/FM radios built into the wall, adding a kind of Jetsons-style cool. It was all very “we live in the future now.”
The real flex wasn’t how often you used it—it was just having it. Guests would comment on it, and homeowners would casually demonstrate how it worked, even if it wasn’t plugged in. It also doubled as a baby monitor, a music system, and a subtle brag. Today, it’s all Alexa and Google, but the wired intercom walked so smart homes could run.
10. Booking a Formal Family Photo at Olan Mills
Olan Mills and its lookalikes ruled mall photo studios from the ’70s through the ’90s. Getting your family dressed up in matching outfits—often velvet, often turtlenecks—and posing in front of a smoky gray backdrop was a serious social event. These weren’t casual snapshots; they were framed, hung in hallways, and sent in wallets to relatives. You paid good money to look unified, proud, and well-posed.
The more serious the pose, the stronger the message: this family has it together. And if your photo had double exposures of the kids gazing upward or Dad looking off into the distance? You were artsy and affluent. These portraits were about showing stability, taste, and middle-class roots deep enough to merit documentation. It was Instagram before the internet.
11. Owning a Riding Lawn Mower (Even on a Small Lot)
You didn’t need acres of grass to justify a riding lawn mower in the ’80s or ’90s—just a backyard and the desire to be seen as “a guy who takes care of things.” These machines cost way more than push mowers, but they turned mundane yard work into a leisure activity. Saturday mornings became a flex parade as dads coasted around the lawn in sunglasses with a travel mug. It wasn’t about necessity—it was about projecting suburban self-sufficiency.
Kids weren’t even allowed to touch them because they were treated like real vehicles. Some people even stored them in their garage like a prized car. If your neighbor had one and you didn’t, you noticed—and maybe started saving up. These days, riding mowers still exist, but they no longer carry the cultural clout they once did.
12. Having a China Hutch (Filled with Untouchable China)
The china hutch was more than just furniture—it was a showcase of refinement and a kind of altar to adulthood. Usually located in the dining room, it held the “good china,” crystal glasses, and maybe a silver tea set—none of which were ever used except at Thanksgiving, maybe. The point wasn’t function; it was display. It was saying, “We have enough disposable income to own things that sit behind glass.”
Most of the time, this china came from wedding registries or was passed down as heirlooms. But owning a full set—12 place settings, with gravy boat and serving platter—meant you were the kind of people who entertained correctly. Whether or not you actually did was beside the point. The hutch itself was the performance.
13. Displaying a Curio Cabinet of Souvenirs
Curio cabinets were glass-front shrines to travel, taste, and disposable income. Found in living rooms and hallways, they housed figurines from vacations, commemorative plates, or souvenir spoons from 50 states. It was a Pinterest board before Pinterest, curated with care and full of items that said, “We’ve been places.” And the cabinet itself—usually mirrored and lit—was another level of presentation.
This wasn’t just tchotchke clutter; it was a deliberate show of culture and sentimentality. People would dust these cabinets weekly and rearrange the contents seasonally. If you had a Swarovski crystal animal in there, that was elite. These days, minimalism rules, but back then, more was more—and proudly so.
14. Paying for Cable TV with a Premium Channel
In the early days of cable, just having cable was a flex—but if you had HBO, Showtime, or The Disney Channel? You were living well. Premium channels were expensive add-ons, sometimes costing as much as a nice dinner out each month. But for middle-class families, they offered a kind of curated prestige: “We don’t just watch TV. We subscribe.”
The cable box itself was often a status object—complete with push buttons and glowing red numbers. Friends would come over to watch movies you couldn’t get anywhere else, and sleepovers were planned around special airings. You might not have traveled the world, but you had access to cinema. And in a pre-streaming age, that was major.
15. Owning a Waterbed
The waterbed was the ultimate in bougie bedroom flexing from the late ’70s through the mid-’90s. It was sold as luxury meets innovation—cooling in summer, heated in winter, and modern in a way no box spring could match. The early ones sloshed like a wave pool and came in mirrored, padded headboards with built-in lights and radios. They were both furniture and conversation starter.
Buying one meant you were willing to spend serious money on comfort and aesthetic. People bragged about them at parties: “You’ve got to try it—it’s like sleeping on the ocean.” It was a honeymoon suite experience you could own permanently. Eventually, practicality won out, but for a while, having a waterbed was like having a hot tub—but indoors, and in bed.
This post 15 Ways the American Middle Class Used to Flex (That No One Remembers Now) was first published on American Charm.
