Did you think you were poor growing up?

I'm fascinated reading all these posts. We were not poor. My father was a company director and Mum also a professional medical practitioner. We had a 'nice' house and decent clothes.
BUT.. most of my clothes were handed down from my older sister. Mum used to send sheets off to be turned 'sides to middle' and we had no heating other than coal fires until I was a teenager. I think most of this was the norm no matter how much your parents earned. It was just how we lived then.

I thought we were poor; my parents bought the house with an outside loo, cold tap in the scullery for a daily strip wash, tin bath brought in after tea on Sunday to take turns in. Gas fired copper to heat bath water and then boil the laundry, rolled through a mangle and pegged out, or draped in front of the coal fires. Sheets resewn sides-to-middle, vests worn day and night for a week then turned inside out for a second week. Mum was a cleaner and took in ironing.

But we were the first in the street to have a car. And the first to get electricity. Every year we had a week in a tent or caravan on the south coast. We had Sunday roasts, and fish and chips, we had pets, we had a record player and a wireless and a b/w television that was bought, not rented. We had a phone that wasn’t on a shared party line. We had properly fitted Clark’s shoes and a bucket and spade for days out at the seaside, and we had a little garden full of roses and peonies, lily-of-the-valley and forget-me-nots.

In a way we had riches that others didn’t,

My gran brought me up and her only income was her state pension. Occasionally my parents would send some money. So yes I’d say we were far from well off.

Yes we were poor, and made very aware of the fact at times and by certain people.
Hand me downs from cousins, second hand clothes etc.
Watching Mum workout how to cope with too much month left for the money. Chicken giblets for Sunday Dinner and if you were lucky you got a bit of chicken liver. I never could eat the gizzard!
But I don’t remember feeling poor as a child, the way I would today with all the stuff children expect-especially phones and foreign holidays (even in term time)!
We thought it great to go by bus to stay with relatives in Birmingham for a few days holiday, then their children came back with us for a bit of “rural” life.

No, we were considered «posh» by my classmates at my primary school which mostly served the council estate behind it.
«Posh « because we owned our house and had a phone!
I suffered a considerable amount of bullying and physical abuse at school because of this. As I recall, only three other girls and at most 2 boys didn’t live on the estate.
Not a happy time nor indeed help did it help that I was also seen as a swot because I was well behaved and did well at school.
Not « the happiest days of my life»

Yes we were poor but then so were all the other families who lived near us so we never really thought about it. I remember my mum repairing a hole in the sole of my shoe with cardboard off a cereal packet. But I didn’t feel bad about it until I went to grammar school a few miles away where some friends came from a very different background.

We were poor. My mum was a single parent who relied on benefits for years, we lived in a, back to back with no heating but the coal fire. I knew we were poor at the time although most people around us were also poor, we still had outside loos in the 70s. My bike was pulled out of a skip and a neighbour fixed the brakes and put a chain on for me, all my clothes came from jumble sales. I was always aware of our poverty around Christmas and my birthday because I got so little compared to other kids my age.

I didn't think we were at the time but in retrospect we were. I don't wear it as a badge of honour, but I do resent hearing younger people telling us we were all so much better of than they are. Until I was seven we lived in a flat with 2 rooms, a sitting room kitchen and a bedroom , there was a shared toilet on the landing and we went to the local baths for a bath and to do the laundry. I was born in1956 we lived in East end of London. We didn't go hungry, but we didn't have much either. We later moved to a two bed flat that had a bath but we had to fill buckets with hot water from a boiler in the kitchen. When I was 13 we moved to a brand new tower block with central heating etc. My parents both worked, we went to playcentre in the school holidays.

My childhood was very much like Ziplocks.

I was born in 1955.. Rationing had just ended and the Welfare i7 State and NHS were now up and running. Small family only two children.

Dad was a Coal.Miner and Mam didn't work and was a full time mother and housewife until we got older. Also Dad served in the Royal Navy during the war.

My parents seem to be very aware of the class system and privilege. And how these better off people really looked down on the working class.

They really thought they were superior and other people should know their place.

And also how the rest of the country was looked down upon by Southerners.

Because they had been brought up with it. Especially Dad who was a big
Labour and Union man. National Union of Miners etc. Very principled, kind, decent man.

Money can't buy you love.As the Beatles sang.

But in later life it can buy you comfort, carer support and private healthcare when you need it.





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Yes I think by today’s standards we were poor but it didn’t cross my mind growing up as we were surrounded by families in the same situation. The thing that was different for us is that when I was nine my sister and I were sent to a public boarding school funded by my paternal grandfather who was mortified at how my father had treated my mother and sister. I think we were the only children with a divorced mother at our little primary school. Looking back, coming home to our council house in the school holidays could have been difficult for me and my sister, but if really wasn’t. We had good friends from either end of the scale and I suppose the situation made us comfortable with anyone. We’ve always loathed snobbery!

I was brought up in a Third World country, so yes we were “poor”.
Compared to our servants, we were loaded, but compared to our peers, we were in straightened circumstances. E.g., we only had one pair of shoes per annum; meat was a great treat, once a week if lucky. I had my very first dress made for me and not handed down when I was 5 yo, etc.
On the other hand, money was spent on our education.

We weren't poor as my father had a management job and bought a house when I was 7. We always had a bathroom.
Nobody, except the richest, had very much material goods back in the 50s/early60s. We got a fridge and washing machine when my mother went back to work as a secretary when I was 11. We got a phone, central heating and a car later.

I find it annoying when politicians, or other famous people, say they were poor as a child when they lived average lives for the time they lived.

Yes we were poor when I was a child . My dad was always in low paid work and mum only ever worked part time.
I remember going to school with holes in my shoes and only having one school skirt and shirt for attending my grammar school . I remember my dad burning old boots and other stuff on the fire in winter because we had run out of coal and couldn’t afford any more .
It seems that things improve for each generation and my children are doing ok for themselves.

Growing up, I id not think we were poor, I knew we were! I had only to compare our home, furniture, clothes, holidays, cars etc with those of my schoolfriends to realise that their fathers were earning far mote than mine, and that their mothers did not work and still struggle to make ends meet.

Looking back now, I can see that no, we were not poor. We always had food on the table, new shoes when we needed them, new clothes (although to my teenage shame these, apart from school uniforms, were hand-me-downs or bought in sales, nor did we ever have the bailiffs in, as someow my mother alwasy found money to pay at least part of a billl when the final demand came in.

We were living in what my grandparents would have called reduced circumstances, due to the fact that the NHS never has paid general practicitoners well.

It is nothing new for politicians, usually Labour, or voters to boast of poverty in their younth - they were doing so in my childhood too.

We were poor but so was everyone else in our neighbourhood. So didn't feel it too much. Others worse off. Was a struggle for people to get a council house to rent. Dad had to leave his job, with a tied cottage, as he didn't earn enough to keep us. Had to be evicted. Was 1962 and a councillor he knew got us a house on an estate being demolished . Floorboards had been ripped out in the front room. Pipes to the bath had been removed . Making bath time hard work for a big family. Mum had to carry hot water upstairs and empty it out by bowl and bucket. Dad struggled to find work at first and one time was digging snow off pavements for the council that long snowy winter. When it showed December till April. Luckily he found good jobs to keep us. Plenty of work in those days. Lots of factories, papermill, oil refineries, power stations nearby.
We were all very happy despite no central heating. Ice inside the windows in winter. No heating upstairs. Coats on top of the blankets and hot water bottles.
Safe to play out with neighbours children. Happy days.
We moved after two years to a nearer better town onto a huge council estate. Schools were good. Neighbours lovely and better off than previous area a very poor town.
Many I went to school with from the council estates had great city jobs, careers and studied to be solicitors, accountants, doctors, nurses, teachers. Still friends with some from both towns that I went to school with.
Incensed me when a work colleague remarked she felt superior for her parents raising her in their house owned with a mortgage. Looked down on all in rentals apparently. But I realised that she hadn't achieved much herself to boast about!
My dad being a trade unionist wasn't a Maggie Thatcher fan. But he had a comfortable old age being able to buy his council house 😊

I was born in 1950 and my parents had two rooms in my nan’s house! My mum left my dad when I was 18months to make him get away from his mother! We had a council house on a new estate and ours was for police officers. I don’t remember being poor as we were all the same at primary school. I do remember hand made clothes but I was never hungry . I suspect my mum went without though as she had no money if her own until she got a part time job at M&S when I was 11 ! My parents then were on a self build scheme and built a bungalow ! My dad stayed in it until he died! My mum walked out when I was 14 and that was unheard of in those days .

Gran22boys

I was born in 1950. In our town there were some middle class people with big houses. But I’d say 90% of people were like my family. A dad who worked and a mum who stayed at home. Rented accommodation until mum and dad saved for a small house in 1958. We didn’t have a car or a fridge or a washing machine. Virtually everyone else’s family was the same. We didn’t think we were poor but of course we were by today’s standards.

Sounds very much like my early life too. Never thought we were poor until went to grammar school and found that most classmates lived in big houses with front gardens and bathrooms as opposed to our 2 up and 2 down rented house with a lavatory in the back yard and a tin bath that came out once a week. Withdrew from friendships as was embarrassed to invite people home, doesn't say much for me does it?!

If I was I never knew, we lived in a rented cottage we moved there so I could go to an all girls school. We had an outside toilet, my DF paid to put in a little shower for us. My DF worked at Rolls Royce for 40 years my mum was a cleaner. I was an only child so always got lots of treat and nice cloths, we always ate well. We didn’t have a car my DF had a moped to get to work.No house phone either. I had a happy childhood the simpler times.

We weren't in poverty but we were certainly poorer than most people I knew. My DF was a serviceman with a regular (if low) income but there were 5 children. Money was never discussed with us so we had no idea of our finances. We had few toys at Christmas and some of the toys were shared amongst us. Many of our present were things we would need, like socks, underwear, shoes.

We were fed and clothed and it was only when I became a teenager that I realised how much better dressed some of my friends were. I can't say I ever felt poor though.

I was fortunate as well, an only child of older parents money was not a problem. My father had his own business and my mother did his accounts etc. I went to a private school initially then to a state school when my parents moved to the coast for health reasons. I do think people were much more careful with money post war, my mother saved old bits of soap to make a bigger bar, used old clothes as cleaning rags and generally wasted very little. Life was very different in the 40s and 50s.

No. There was Dad, Mum and me. We lived in a 'bought house' and all of my friends lived in council houses, where I loved to go as everything was not so structured and there was more involvement in decisions and young people to play with. We had holidays abroad every 4 or 5 years. There were no credit cards in those days, we just had a cheque book and an overdraft if needed. I had a pet dog and a pony kept at livery stables initially, so I guess we looked well-off although I did much of the horse-care myself as Dad would drop me off to the stables every day. Dad ran his own business, with my mother assisting and I was basically brought up by her mother as she came and did our housework and cared for me. Like Sago, my mum constantly called others 'common' which really aggravated me, so much so that I made a point of pulling her up on it every single time. She answered our 'in house' telephone with a posh voice too - albeit she came from a working class family. My Dad's parents were further up the wealth ladder for sure, but my mother had delusions aspirations and they managed to maintain the house, their own business, my pets and so on due to her ability to make my clothes and cook/budget well. In my east end school I was bullied by some, probably because of the aforementioned status symbols. Dad wanted me to go to private school, in retrospect I wish I had but I pleaded no with him. Also, my mother insisted in bringing me my play-piece to school in the Daimler!, dropping it off at playtime through the school railings. I kid you not!

nanna8

Most of us would be described as ‘poor’ in post war London. No carpets, rationing still in place and not many clothes. Freezing at night with inadequate heating and just coal fires in one room downstairs. No fridges,phones or washing machines and tv not invented. We were all pretty much the same,though, so we didn’t really think about it.

I grew up in East London not long after the war ended. I don't ever remember feeling poor. We had enough to eat and we never had to go barefoot. We were a working class family or, as Jilly Cooper put it, we were "definitely disgusting."

TerriBull

Absolutely! Orange squash and biscuits were rarities, birthday parties. At Christmas there would be a box of biscuits, otherwise a biscuit free household other than Jacobs crackers. I had a friend whose parents owned/ran the nearby Cricketers. When visiting out of hours, her mum would give us an Orangina and Smiths Crisps with the little packet of blue salt. Needless to say I loved visiting her we played in the pub garden.

Crisps! We never had them. At 9 or 10 I was so envious of the kids who were given packets of crisps for after our weekly swimming sessions - I was invariably starving!

At senior school age, I used to make myself a Marmite sandwich for break time, there was never anything else I could just take - we so rarely had anything like biscuits in the house, and fruit was never on a ‘just help yourself’ basis - unless it was apples from the garden at that time of year.

My DM would make cakes now and then though - she was a very good cook.

I never thought about it, we had what was needed.

Our city grandparents had more, they were old, seemed normal.

Growing up in the 60s and 70s I would say we were comfortably off. Lived in a new build house, 2 cars, 2 weeks holiday in the UK. Mum didn't go out to work and was very proud that she didn't "need to" (especially as she had grown up in poverty).
Despite this they were very careful with their money - house maintenance was DIY and my clothes were home made. Day trips and eating out rarely happened. All expenses were very carefully considered.