Nat Locke: Everyone has a different perception of what indicated wealth as a kid, here were some of mine

The other night, a friend’s seven-year-old daughter innocently asked her why all the families on YouTube lived in two-storey houses.

It turns out seven-year-old girls — some of them at least — get a kick out of watching other families do fun things, and it also turns out that all of those families live in two-storey houses, probably because they are either American, where two-storey houses are rampant, or they’re wealthy from that sweet YouTube money.

Yes, as we all know, living in a double-storey house is a sure sign that there is money involved.

At least, that was my belief when I was a kid. When I grew up I couldn’t even fathom living in a house with stairs. I didn’t know anyone who lived like that. In fact, back then, you probably could count on one hand all of the two-storey houses in Esperance. There are slightly more now.

Disappointingly, as an adult I’ve had the opportunity to live in properties with stairs and I can confirm that they are not that impressive. Tough on the knees and annoying if you get downstairs only to discover that you’ve left something upstairs.

These days I’d be more inclined to think a family was wealthy if they had a lift. Stairs suck.

It turns out everyone has a slightly different perception of what indicates wealth, but another significant one for me was that only the rich girls went to pony club.

That’s not to say I didn’t have a pony, because I did, but mine was half brumby and we didn’t own a horse float. Cream jodhpurs were never going to be in my future. The rich girls got to go to Pony Club and Brownies and I was green with envy.

I was also very impressed with my friend who had a Holly Hobbie bedspread.

For those of you who are too young to comprehend the majesty of this image, she was basically a cartoon girl who wore an enormous bonnet and a patchwork dress.

I can’t tell you anything else about her, but she definitely had her moment. Times were A LOT simpler then.

My colleague Shaun identified his rich family members by the fact that they owned a VCR, which Shaun was allowed to borrow to provide entertainment for his birthday party.

Think about that next time you’re organising an extravagantly-themed birthday party for your kid. You could just sit them down in front of a fat back TV, a VCR and a weekly rental from Video Ezy.

In the same vein, I was convinced that anyone who owned more than one television was basically a millionaire. I refuse to have a TV in the bedroom, so still only have one in my house. Am I poor?

Another friend considered packaged, processed foods in a fellow kid’s lunchbox to be the ultimate indicator of wealth.

A fruit roll up or an LCM bar? Oh, but she could dream.

When her lunch was a ham and salad sandwich and a piece of fruit, the mere thought of anything that came in a wrapper was highly covetable.

And then there was the girl who was convinced of a family’s wealth because they owned a cordless phone.

Being able to walk around from room to room whilst continuing a conversation on the telephone? What a luxury.

When you’re living your life having phone conversations in front of everyone, whilst attached to the kitchen wall, can you imagine how fancy the ability to roam must have seemed?

Incidentally, is it any wonder gen X is the way we are, considering the freedom mobile phones now afford us? Our heads are spinning. But I digress.

Because I’m a stickler for spanning the generations, I asked a millennial this question and she reckoned a sure sign of wealth when she was young and impressionable was Peter Alexander pyjamas. As someone who wore nighties made by my mum, I can appreciate how desirable these would have been, had they existed in my day.

But what of the current generation of young and impressionable kids.

Something tells me they’re a lot harder to impress these days. What do they see as indicators of wealth? Probably private jets and Lamborghinis. That is, the actual accoutrements of actual wealth.

What would another kid have to have in their seven-course bento box for lunch to make them seem superior?

Something tells me Holly Hobbie’s not going to cut it anymore.