Peter Frampton, Doobie Brothers, Eagles, Watergate, Farrah hair, Sassoon hair, Day on the Green, disco, shiny eye shadow…
I graduated from high school in 1974.
Hoo hah. I’m streaming a May 1977 Dead show as I type this. Crazy-good “Dancing in the Streets.”
See, I can appreciate fine music because, during the 1970s, I took lots of dope.
Heh. Was discussing the Dead with my sidekick at work – he was born the same year I last saw them live (1978). Sigh.
Plastic corneal contact lenses had been around since the 1950s. The soft lens became available in 1971.
I was born in 1970, so I recall roller skating rinks, and disco. By about 1978, every girl I knew had a roller-skating-disco party for her birthday.
And yes, in first grade, I had a Donny & Marie lunchbox, as well as my uber-cool Shaun Cassidy T-shirt. I was so hip. 
I was born in 1961, so you do the math. I have very strong scent-memories, so I’ll go from there: Green Apple cologne, plus my step-brother’s hideous cologne subtly called SEX (really). You knew it was date night for him by just walking past the house. That stuff had legs, I’ll tell you. Also incense, mainly sandalwood and patchouli. My friends smelling like weed.
Shag carpeting, green or orange. A lime green beanbag chair. The goldenrod new refrigerator. The white with tangerine and gold flecks in it that Dad put in the kitchen. We got a microwave and a wok – probably the first family in a 10 mile radius with one. Also a Cuisinart (Dad was very cutting edge with his kitchen stuff). We had parties in the garage and Dad would serve fried wontons and no one would eat that stuff because it was too foreign.
Mom’s blue eyeshadow. Bubblegum flavored lip gloss in a rollerbottle (it was so CLEVER!). First try at applying mascara, which made me look like a raccoon with glasses.
AM radio, especially CKLW from Windsor, which we picked up in Michigan. They played top 40. Elton John – radio stations would brag that they played the most Elton John (which was cool because I adored EJ and still do). Queen (I remember the first time I ever heard Bohemian Rhapsody and was blown away by it.) Peter Frampton . . . everyone had a copy of Frampton Comes Alive! (except me, because I was tragically unhip, despite my platform shoes). Led Zep, Pink Floyd, John Denver. Disco came much later and my tastes did not run in that direction, so have no memories of disco except watching Denny Terrio and Dance Fever on TV and turning it off.
Monty Python on PBS, Midnight Special on at night. Also a program called “Supersonic” which starred Gary Glitter that we could get on the Canadian station which I thought was loads better than Midnight Special.
I remember some of the clothes, esp. the polyester. It always felt slippery and cold, and I couldn’t wait to get into my jeans. Nearly broke both my ankles with those damn platform shoes.
The cars were ugly. We had an AMC Gremlin. The Pacer was fugly too. The Energy Crisis, and gas going up to a whole dollar! I was learning to drive at about that point, and I was ticked.
The Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers (I can remember Phineas and Fat Freddy, but I can never remember the third brother’s name. Pot was legal in our state, provided you possessed an ounce or less for your own personal use (IIRC it was an ounce, it may have been more, and people were allowed to grow a certain amount as well).
“Sizzlers”. Not the steak house, super mini-dresses with trim that matched little “bloomers” (just thicker than panty material covers). I loved those, I had awesome legs back then, but my parents were strict and I had to sneak them out of the house in my cornet case and change at school.
Of course all the political stuff, Viet Nam, Nixon. The Alaska Pipeline was starting to cruise and there were tons of young southern studs from the “Oil Patch” up here working. That’s back when there really was a ratio of about 10 to 1. (men to women).
I remember lots of dancing and lots of partying. Unlike most of my peers who came of age in the 70s, I liked disco and when I wasn’t working, I was out dancing until 5am. I was pretty good, and even won a few local contests with the man I later married. I in 5th grade in 1970 going into the 6th that fall, so I pretty much grew up with the full on “70s experience”.
I am another one of those who hated the whole orange/brown/avocado themed decorating conspiracy though. (hmmm, maybe that’s where I get my severe hatred of all things brown in home decor, along with the boring “earth toned” decorating styles of Hildi Saint Thomas and Doug Wilson?).
I have a very specific visual memory of a woman in one of those one-piece disco outfits with bell bottoms and some sort of long fringed belt and huge sunglasses and platform boots. She’s got either poofy hair or an afro, I’m not sure which, and she’s standing in front of this wallpaper that’s brown and gold and orange rectangles on a tan background. I see this whole thing from down low, as if I was a small child looking up at her.
Problem was, I don’t know ANYONE in real life who would have dressed like that. Was it an album cover or something? I was born in 1974, and my parents (and their friends) were NOT the disco types - they were into Peter, Paul and Mary and Harry Chapin and James Taylor.
The Seventies were my decade. I was born in February of 1960, so I was 10 - almost 20.
I remember Farrah hair, longish plaid skirts, wide jeans that we called elephant pants, blue eyeshadow and scoop necked black tshirts with tiny sleeves. Oh, and jean jackets or leather blazers. Yeah, I lived in a rough neighbourhood.
Our big thing was driving, preferably while listening to CKLG, CKVN (later changed to it’s original CFUN) and the station from Victoria. Once I switched around and found that all three were playing “Ooh, Love to Love Ya Baby” at the same time! We drove old Sixties cars that belonged to our dads or our boyfriends. When the radio wasn’t on we listened to 8-tracks or cassettes of (depending on who’s car) Deep Purple, Queen, Johnny Horton(!), the Grease soundtrack or, of course, Alice Cooper. Friday Night Oldies was my big treat and I always had to go cruising while it was on.
I managed to miss Disco but I had friends who practically lived at Bumpers on Kingsway. Actually, I kind of had a double life back then. Half my friends were from school and half of 'em had kids and their own places. The two groups were mostly separate.
The other thing we did was screw around. A lot.
A LOT.
I had friends who kept score of the guys they’d picked up like most kids would collect bubblegum cards and most of 'em started at around thirteen. Hey, the worst that could happen was pregnancy and that wasn’t a big deal in our neighbourhood. I had a steady boyfriend from the time I was fifteen until I met the Mr at twenty, so I mostly missed that part too. Okay, only mostly.
That would be Freewheelin’ Franklin.
I graduated from high school in 1972.
Watergate and Vietnam loom large, as do sex, drugs and rock 'n roll.
Best (and CHEAPEST) live concerts ever: The Who, Santana, Led Zep, The Doors, Eric Clapton, Grateful Dead, The Rolling Stones etc
It was the last time I remember feeling that anything was possible.
Civil unrest, linoleum and TV, which we just got. As a country, I mean. In 1975!
Oh, and I was born in '71
What comes to mind: we had an avacado green fridge, roll up venetian blinds, and macrame plant hangers. I wasn’t born until the spring of '77, what do you expect me to remember from back then?
The 70’s was definitely the decade of ABBA.
Those door curtain things made of beads or shells
bell bottoms
platform shoes
afros
feathered hair
pimp hats with feathers
War protests
I was born in '82.
<sigh> :o Agnetha Faltskog! :o </sigh>
.
Franco’s death, Nov. 20, 1975; Dad’s side of the family discussing the new Constitution and laughing about how that “so nice, well-connected Falange boy” (Suárez) that a certain cousin had married was the guy breaking Franco’s legate. I distinctly remember the TV reporter talking about his long-drawn-out agony (the doctors purposefully made his death fall on the anniversary of the execution of Falange’s founder).
I was born in '68. Things like Viet-nam, Nixon and the destape (Spanish titty movies from the late '70s) went way over my head. But the way Franco’s “tied and well tied” fell apart after King Juan Carlos cut the ribbon… that, I remember.
Oh: my family’s political composition is enough material for a PhD thesis, but leaving it simply at the MS level, Dad and his closest relatives were Carlistas or any of the colors born of Carlismo (the monarchics who fought on Franco’s side) and not fans of “that godless frog” Franco at all. But the Madrid relatives were Falange; Dad’s fondest childhood memories include a summer spent in Cuenca with a Madrid cousin (the brother of the future Duchess of Suárez) and throwing rocks at said cousin in the company of some local boys.
Born in 65
Atari, sprinklers, red light green light, hockey in the middle of the street and yelling CAAAARRRRR. Shawn and David Cassidy. Leif Garrett and the Jackson Five. All in the Family, Star Trek and Biotic Man. Polyester clothing, toughskins and Pathmark sneakers.