Avocado green and macramé weren’t just trends—they were a vibe, and every woman I knew wanted her house to say as much. The 1970s had this wild confidence, a sort of permission slip to mix patterns, pile on the color, and let your personality explode in every room.
If you grew up in a house from that era (or visited your mom’s best friend’s place), you remember how every space felt a little bit like a party—even when it was just laundry day. There was comfort in the chaos, a sense of joy in the oddball combos of orange, brown, and gold.
Each piece told a story, and honestly, some of those stories are too funny not to share. So, let’s take a peek at the things every ’70s woman proudly kept at home. Ready for a trip down memory lane?
1. Avocado Green Appliances
Walking into a ’70s kitchen, you couldn’t miss that blast of avocado green. The fridge, the stove, the blender—each one wore that earthy hue like a badge of honor, making the whole space feel cheerful and a little rebellious. My mom used to say it hid the mess, but to me, it was pure style.
These appliances weren’t just for cooking. They were conversation starters, the backdrop to every family meal and midnight snack. The color might not fly today, but back then, avocado was the queen of the kitchen.
It’s funny how that color still sparks memories—holiday baking, after-school snacks, and sneaking ice cream straight from the freezer. If you had these, you were trendy without even trying.
2. A Rotary Phone with a Long Spiral Cord
If you ever untangled a phone cord for half an hour, you know the struggle was real. Rotary phones were clunky, loud, and far from portable—but they made every call an event. My favorite memory? Pacing the kitchen while catching up with my best friend, cord trailing behind me like a pet.
There was a special art to dialing—one wrong spin and you’d have to start over. Patience was required, especially if you were calling a boy and didn’t want your dad to overhear.
The phone’s ring could wake the dead, but missing a call was unthinkable. Having a rotary phone meant you were always just a cord’s length away from the latest gossip.
3. A Console Record Player
You didn’t just listen to music; you staged a whole experience around it. The console record player doubled as furniture, often dominating the living room with its impressive, wood-paneled presence. I remember Saturday afternoons spent flipping through stacks of vinyl, searching for the perfect soundtrack.
Fleetwood Mac, Donna Summer, Carole King—they all lived on those records. The ritual of carefully placing the needle, the crackle before the song started, was pure magic.
If you were lucky, you even had built-in speakers. And yes, it was totally normal to use the top as a place for drinks or plants. Practical and groovy: a winning combo.
4. Crochet or Macramé Everything
If it could be knotted or stitched, it was on display. Macramé plant hangers swung in every window, and crochet blankets draped over every couch arm. My aunt’s hands were always busy with yarn, making everything from coasters to curtains with that unmistakable homemade flair.
It was more than decor—it was a badge of creativity. No store-bought stuff could compete with the pride of saying, “Oh, I made that.” Plus, every knot and loop added warmth, literally and figuratively.
Macramé might seem fussy now, but back then, it was just what you did on a cozy night in. Handcrafted, heartfelt, and a little bit boho: pure ’70s spirit.
5. Tupperware in Sunset Shades
The clack of Tupperware lids snapping shut might as well have been the anthem of every ’70s kitchen. Orange, mustard, and brown containers stacked up in pantries, each one ready for leftovers or a last-minute lunch.
Somehow, those lids managed to be both impossible to lose and impossible to open. I swear, my mom could pack a whole potluck into one set and never spill a drop.
No one ever owned just one piece—collections seemed to multiply, especially if you went to a Tupperware party. And yes, they’re still around today, proving that good design (and stubborn lids) never really go out of style.
6. Wood Paneling Walls
Somehow, wood paneling made even a drafty basement feel inviting. Dark and dramatic, those walls set the stage for family movie nights and endless games of Monopoly. My friend’s entire den looked like a cabin, even though her house was in the suburbs.
It wasn’t just a wall covering—it was a mood. The darker the wood, the cozier the room felt, no matter what the weather was doing outside.
Sure, it might have been fake as a press-on nail, but no one cared. It was all about creating a snug hideaway where you could kick off your shoes, relax, and forget about the rest of the world for a while.
7. Shag Carpet (Wall-to-Wall, of Course)
Shag carpet was practically its own member of the family. Bold in color—olive green, sunshine yellow, or burnt orange—it covered every inch of floor and swallowed up stray bobby pins for decades.
Walking barefoot across that plush, tangled softness felt downright luxurious, even if vacuuming was a losing battle. You could lose a whole earring in there and find it three years later.
Kids loved to sprawl out, and pets would disappear into its depths. It was a little wild, a little unruly, and totally unforgettable. Shag carpet was the secret sauce for making any room instantly more fun.
8. A Fondue Set
Fondue night was the closest thing to a dinner party adventure. The bubbling pot, the skewers, the endless dippables—cheese or chocolate, it didn’t matter. It was all about the spectacle and a little bit about showing off your hostess skills.
You’d gather everyone around, light the flame, and hope nobody dropped a chunk of bread (because there were always dares involved). My mom loved to make it part of every celebration—birthdays, anniversaries, or just Tuesday night.
Fondue wasn’t just food; it was an event. The set itself took pride of place, always ready to come out at a moment’s notice. Messy, delicious, and distinctly ’70s.
9. A Sunken Living Room (or Conversation Pit)
Sunken living rooms felt like the height of sophistication. Even if it was just two steps down, it made you feel like you’d entered a secret clubhouse just for grown-ups. The cushions were thick, and the coffee table was always within reach.
My neighbor’s house had one, and every visit meant we’d toss pillows everywhere and pretend we were on TV. Conversation just seemed easier when you were closer to the floor, surrounded by soft fabric and laughter.
Not everyone could pull it off, but if you had one, you definitely turned heads. It was a little bit of architectural drama in everyday life.
10. An Ashtray on Every Table (Even if She Didn’t Smoke)
Ashtrays were the unsung heroes of hospitality. Even if you never touched a cigarette, you made sure every guest had a spot to flick their ashes. The designs ranged from chunky glass to delicate ceramic, often chosen for looks as much as for utility.
Family gatherings meant a cloud of smoke and the gentle clink of ashtrays being passed around. I still remember the faint scent of smoke and perfume mingling in the air.
Ashtrays might be rare now, but back then, they were a sign you cared about your guests’ comfort. Every coffee table needed at least one—just in case.
11. Beaded Doorways or Room Dividers
You weren’t really cool unless you had a beaded curtain somewhere in your house. Walking through those dangling strands felt like a little parade every time. They didn’t block much, but they sure made an entrance.
My cousin’s room had rainbow beads, and we’d race through them just for the satisfying clatter. Beaded dividers turned even the smallest hallway into a groovy corridor.
They were playful, a little impractical, and totally eye-catching. These weren’t just room dividers—they were conversation starters and instant mood-lifters.
12. A Wicker Peacock Chair or Hanging Rattan Swing
Nothing said “bohemian queen” like a peacock chair poised in the sunniest spot of the house. Wicker and rattan swung into style, literally, with hanging swings perfect for lazy afternoons with a paperback.
Every woman I knew wanted one for reading, daydreaming, or striking a pose for family photos. The peacock chair’s dramatic fan back made you feel special, no matter what.
Rattan furniture was sturdy yet light, fitting for a home that celebrated both comfort and flair. These pieces brought a touch of the tropics to suburban living.
13. Needlepoint Wall Art or Embroidered Samplers
Hand-stitched wall art told the world you had patience and a knack for detail. Needlepoint samplers with sweet phrases—think “Home Sweet Home” or “Bless This Mess”—added a homemade touch to any room.
My grandmother’s hallway was a gallery of tiny masterpieces, each one made with love or received as a thoughtful gift. The bright threads popped against those wood-paneled walls.
There was pride in hanging something crafted by hand, a silent nod to the power of women making beauty from a bit of fabric and thread. These little works still tug at my heart.
14. A TV with Rabbit Ears and a Wood Cabinet
The TV was furniture—literally. Encased in a heavy wood cabinet, it took center stage in the living room, surrounded by the soft hum of anticipation before your favorite show aired. Those silver rabbit ears? Adjusting them was an Olympic sport.
No one had a remote. Kids did the channel surfing by hand, and if the picture went fuzzy, a roll of aluminum foil was always nearby.
Watching TV together felt special, even if you only had a few channels. There was something comforting about everyone cramming onto the couch, united by the glow of the screen.
15. Earth-Toned Everything
Brown, burnt orange, harvest gold—these colors ruled every corner of the house. From drapes to dishware, you couldn’t escape the warm, mellow vibe. To me, it felt like the whole house was giving you a big, cozy hug.
There was something calming about those earthy shades, a kind of quiet confidence that made rooms feel grounded and inviting. Neutrals mixed with bold pops for just the right amount of drama.
Sure, some people called it drab. But in my book, it was the secret to making a home feel lived-in and loved. Earth tones were simply everywhere.
16. A Cookbook Stand on the Counter
Every seasoned cook had a trusty stand for their battered Betty Crocker or Joy of Cooking cookbook. Perched on the counter, it was both practical (no more splattered pages) and a subtle flex that you meant business in the kitchen.
This was before smartphones and tablets, so recipes were dog-eared and handwritten, often with notes from past attempts. The stand kept things tidy while you tried to remember if it was baking soda or powder.
Glancing up mid-stir to check a recipe became a comforting ritual. Even if you’d memorized the dish, the stand was always ready to help you out.
17. A Collection of Avon Bottles or Perfume Minis
Little glass bottles shaped like cars, cats, or flowers? That’s how you knew you’d wandered into a ’70s bathroom or bedroom. Avon perfumes and cologne minis were collectible treasures, lined up like jewels on a vanity.
I remember the thrill of picking out a new scent from a friend’s collection. Some bottles were gifts, some bought at door-to-door visits, all were cherished.
Even if you never wore the perfume inside, the bottles made you feel fancy. They were tiny trophies, a splash of glamour for everyday routines. Who didn’t want a decanter shaped like a car?