Middle Class Magic: When Basic Stuff Felt Like a Rich-People Flex
I grew up in that very specific Gen X window where we were told we were “middle class,” but everything good felt vaguely illegal. Like, if you had it, you…
Woman’s Hands pressing button on black microwave for cooking
I grew up in that very specific Gen X window where we were told we were “middle class,” but everything good felt vaguely illegal.
Like, if you had it, you probably shouldn’t talk about it at school. Because someone’s mom would hear, and then there’d be a “conversation.”
(My mother TO THIS DAY doesn't like it when I say we had a pool in the backyard. She thinks it's showy.)
So when Buzzfeed recently asked, “What was a middle-class luxury from your childhood that’s now basically a necessity?” I felt personally summoned.
Because wow, did we live through the Silver Spoon Era of Stuff That’s Now Normal.
Let’s start with computers. Having a computer in your house once meant your parents were either rich, worked for NASA, or were running some kind of side business they refused to explain.
Now? You can’t even apply for a job, check your kid’s homework, or exist without one. Back then, it was a beige box that took ten minutes to start and screamed when you dialed into the internet.
Other middle class luxuries?
Dishwashers were another flex. Some of us washed dishes by hand every night, staring at the neighbor’s glowing kitchen window like it was a dream sequence. Don't get me started on microwaves. Those were enormous, mysterious machines that promised the future and reheated coffee terribly. But if your mom's BFF had one? Well, it was only a matter of time until you were nuking everything in your fridge.
And long-distance calling. My parents treated it like a controlled substance. You called your aunt in Florida with a timer running and a parent hovering. Now I can FaceTime someone in Scotland for free while standing in line at CVS buying Skittles.
If your family had encyclopedias, you were rich and smart. A full set meant status. Now we carry the entire sum of human knowledge in our pockets and mostly use it to argue with strangers.
Air conditioning in cars? A luxury. HBO? Basically royalty. A TV in your bedroom? Unthinkable.
Now kids have multiple personal screens and still complain there’s “nothing to watch.”
Don’t get me started on cordless phones, water beds, or fridges that make ice.
We didn’t realize it then, but we were watching luxuries become basics in real time. And while I love modern convenience, part of me misses the thrill of those little upgrades. The feeling that something small meant you’d made it. Even just a little.
