At the counter of a small advertising agency in 1975, Gary Dahl was joking with friends about the perfect pet. Dogs were too much work. Cats were too aloof. Goldfish died.

The conversation drifted into absurdity, and Dahl, a copywriter with a quick wit, announced that the ideal pet was a rock. It would not need food, water, or attention. It would not run away, bite, or scratch the furniture. It would never die.
It sounded like a throwaway joke, the kind of thing people say and forget by the next morning. But Dahl saw something in his own nonsense. He wrote a parody training manual for the pet rock, complete with instructions on how to teach it to sit and stay, how to roll it over, and how to perform what he called a “play dead” trick that took almost no effort at all. Then he packaged ordinary stones in cardboard boxes with air holes, added a bed of straw, and started selling them for four dollars apiece.
Within months, millions of those rocks had been sold. The media picked up the story, the product appeared on popular television programs, and a man who had made a joke about pet ownership became a millionaire in a remarkably short time. He was not, by any measure, the only person in the 1970s to turn a strange idea into a phenomenon. That decade produced an extraordinary run of fads, some brilliant, some that barely survived contact with reality, and a few that became so deeply embedded in daily life that they now serve as unmistakable markers of their time.
They filled dance floors, kitchens, bedrooms, driveways, and roadside gas stations. They gave people new ways to move, to dress, to decorate their homes, and to talk to one another. Each one tells a story about a decade that was, by every account, overflowing with energy. ## THE HOOK
The 1970s opened with a footwear trend that had actually existed for centuries, though never quite like this.
Platform shoes had appeared in various forms throughout history, but in this decade they became a defining fashion icon. Designers built thick, elevated soles and heels into shoes, sandals, boots, and even athletic footwear, creating a silhouette that was unmistakable at a glance. The way these shoes moved across a disco floor, or paired with the wide-legged bell bottoms that swept every sidewalk, produced a style that no one could confuse with anything else. What made the platform unique was that women and men adopted it with equal enthusiasm.
Early in the decade, the shoes typically came with a broad, chunky, sturdy heel. As the years passed, the design evolved, with soles growing thicker while heels grew thinner and higher, until the look reached its boldest expression in sharp, tapered heels. The most unusual and extravagant examples were custom-made for rock stars and celebrities, designed to complement theatrical stage costumes and the dazzling Bob Mackie dresses that attracted such attention. For the performers who wore them, platforms were not just footwear.
They were equipment. Around the same time, American men began appearing with thick, curly hair in a style that became instantly recognizable as belonging to the era. The trend started with musicians and actors who showed up on television and in films with confident new curls. Audiences took note.
Before long, barbershops across the country were filling with men asking for the same treatment. Where the inspiration came from is a matter of some debate. It may have grown out of the Broadway musical Hair, which had presented a vision of free-spirited, bohemian youth in the late 1960s. Or it may have been the celebrity influence that ignited the style later, with figures like Mike Brady, Al Pacino, Willie Aames, David Bowie, and George Harrison all sporting versions of the look.
So attached were fans to George Harrison’s curls that an entire website was dedicated to them, operating under the motto “Permalicious, so delicious. ” Whatever the origin, the style vanished almost completely by the 1980s, leaving behind a funny and stylish memory of a time that had passed. For women, the decade produced an equally distinctive haircut. In the mid-1970s, figure skater Dorothy Hamill won the gold medal at the 1976 Winter Olympics representing the United States.
The country was captivated by her talent and her presentation. Her hair had been cut by stylist Yusuke Suga, who took her thick, straight hair and shaped it into a wedge that moved and flowed with her as she skated. Known as the Hamill wedge, the haircut framed her face beautifully and suited the oversized eyeglasses that were also part of the era’s look. Millions of girls and women adopted it, and the style became one of the most widely copied in American history.
## THE LOOK OF THE DECADE
The fashion of the seventies was not complete without a distinctive necklace that originated in Hawaii. Puka shell chokers, short necklaces made of small cone shells found along the beaches of the Pacific Islands, carried with them the feel of the ocean and white sand. The trend first took hold within the surfing community on the West Coast, where lovers of the sea discovered their rustic beauty quickly. Then David Cassidy wore one on The Partridge Family.
The teenage star’s photograph appeared in the press, the necklace around his neck, and the whole country became enamored with the small shells. From sunny beaches, puka shell necklaces moved quickly into the closets of young people everywhere, becoming a symbol of freedom, openness, and love of nature. Then there were the Earth Shoes, another footwear innovation with an unusual design philosophy. These shoes were created by Anne Kalsø, a Danish yoga instructor and shoe designer.
What set them apart was the negative heel: the heel sat lower than the front of the shoe. This was not an accident. Kalsø wanted to simulate the sensation of walking on sand. She had been inspired by the fine posture of indigenous people in Brazil and their bare footprints in the sand, believing that the same body alignment would bring health benefits.
Not everyone was convinced. Many people disliked having the front of the foot higher than the heel, and some found the shoes painful to walk in. Yet demand grew so enormous that sales in the United States stopped in the late 1970s because the company simply could not keep up. Like many classics, however, good things did not die.
Earth Shoes made a remarkable comeback in the early 2000s and are still produced and sold today. At the base of almost every outfit in the decade stood the bell-bottom pants. These trousers were a staple of any wardrobe belonging to a disco or rock music lover. They were often made of denim but could also be found in a variety of other fabrics, worn by both men and women.
The defining features were the low waist and legs that widened toward the bottom. The wider the better; the more they flared, the more impressive they were considered. The trend had begun in the 1960s, but it became a widespread obsession when celebrities and the entertainment industry began promoting the style. A prime example was the duo Sonny and Cher, who frequently appeared in bell-bottoms on their television program, creating a powerful wave of influence among audiences.
Bell-bottoms were more than an article of clothing. They became the emblem of an entire era. Walk down any street in that period and you would see millions of people wearing them, walking with confidence, dancing in discos, or enjoying rock concerts. Of all the fashion statements the decade produced, none became more iconic than the leisure suit.
Designer Jerry Rosengarden created the first one in 1970 for an unexpected purpose: office wear. It is difficult to believe now, looking back at images of smooth, colorful polyester suits, that anyone intended them for the workplace. But the leisure suit is not remembered for its office elegance. Instead, it became synonymous with flashy, garish, offensively bright clothing.
It was associated with images of raucous disco parties, slick used-car salesmen, and even unfaithful husbands. For a few years, the leisure suit served as a genuine antidote to monotony, often paired with shiny gold chains, long sideburns, and a bold, rule-breaking style. Then fashion turned, as it always does. By the end of the decade, the leisure suit had gone from popular trend to joke, gradually replaced by the return of formal business suits.
## THE SOUND AND THE MOVEMENT
The music of the decade demanded a new kind of movement on the dance floor, and it found one in a dance known as the Hustle. The dance became incredibly popular in disco clubs across the United States after Van McCoy released the song “The Hustle,” which quickly climbed the music charts. The Hustle drew on elements of the mambo, salsa, and swing, combining them into a graceful, captivating fluidity that made anyone want to move to the rhythm. Imagine a glimmering dance floor filled with hundreds of people spinning and swaying to the Hustle, an atmosphere of excitement and freedom.
The dance’s fame multiplied when it appeared in the classic film Saturday Night Fever in the mid-1970s. It seemed that everyone at the time was doing the Hustle everywhere. It was the perfect dance for showing off high-soled shoes, huge hairstyles, and even the flashy, colorful polyester outfits. The visual identity of the era extended well beyond clothing and dance.
Every decade has an aesthetic, but the seventies pushed it to an extreme. The smiley face was one of the most prominent symbols. It appeared on all kinds of products: stickers, keychains, and decals. The smiley face first emerged in the 1960s, in an early version printed on T-shirts and given as prizes in a contest held by WMCA, a New York City radio station.
Other companies later created their own versions, and eventually the symbol was legally trademarked in the early 1970s and licensed for use on merchandise around the world. The decade also boasted iconic graphic art posters that were familiar landmarks of the era. Almost everyone remembers seeing or owning the “Keep on Truckin’” poster by the artist R. Crumb.
Another famous artist associated with the decade is Peter Max, whose works are immediately recognizable as pieces of 1970s pop culture, offering a fresh, colorful, and liberated perspective. No visual artifact of the era, however, matched the cultural reach of the Farrah Fawcett poster. The image of the star decorated millions of bedroom and dormitory walls across the United States and around the world. It holds the record as the best-selling poster in history, with more than twelve million copies sold.
Interestingly, the poster spread like lightning right before the television series Charlie’s Angels premiered. Before that, Fawcett had appeared primarily in shampoo commercials. The poster’s appeal was obvious: an image of a girl-next-door who looked innocent and fresh, but with a touch of allure and femininity. It was a perfect combination, acceptable in many homes.
A teenager at the time could certainly bring the poster home and hang it on the bedroom wall, as long as his mother did not look at it too closely. In 2011, Fawcett’s red swimsuit and a copy of the poster were donated to the Smithsonian National Museum of American History, joining its collection of culturally significant artifacts and proving the poster’s profound impact on American culture. ## LIFE ON THE ROAD AND IN THE LIVING ROOM
Out on the highways and streets of America, customized vans had become a common sight. They were mobile headquarters for all kinds of fun and a symbol of the typical traveling party culture of the seventies.
Customizing these vehicles was a natural extension of the hot rod culture that had started decades earlier. The idea was simple: take an ordinary cargo van and modify the interior. A van equipped with a comfortable bed, a small refrigerator for drinks and snacks, and perhaps even a small table for friends to gather around. The interiors were decorated according to the tastes of 1970s interior design trends, making the owner immediately popular at parties.
On the outside, these vans often featured unique body modifications, altered wheels and tires, and were frequently painted with colorful, stylish custom murals or artwork. So pervasive was the phenomenon that a low-budget youth comedy film called The Van was released in 1977, primarily shown at drive-in theaters, fully exploiting the cultural craze. For those who stayed indoors, the black light poster offered a unique combination of two elements: posters printed or drawn with fluorescent ink or paint, and the ultraviolet lamp required to create the glow effect. The secret was that the ink or paint used contained phosphorus, a chemical that makes it glow brilliantly when exposed to ultraviolet light from a black light.
For anyone who wanted to lose themselves for a few hours in a hazy space, all they had to do was put a favorite 1970s vinyl record on the player, switch on the black light, and gaze at the dreamlike posters decorated with all the vibrant colors of the phosphorescent spectrum. Thanks to their surreal imagery and ability to glow in the dark, these posters could create an almost three-dimensional effect, perfectly suited to the music and room decor of the time. Some said the effect made them feel as though their consciousness had been altered. Others joked that those people were simply under the influence of drugs.
Even the pets of the decade were unconventional. Alongside Gary Dahl’s pet rock, there was a strange but immensely popular toy called Clackers. These two shiny, sturdy plastic balls were attached to a thin string. When you moved your hand up and down, they crashed together, producing a distinctive, dry but captivating clicking sound.
In the 1970s, these balls were widely advertised as a game and became an incredibly widespread obsession. Their appeal lay in their simplicity and difficulty at the same time; they required skill to move rhythmically and create a continuous chain of sounds without stopping. But these solid acrylic balls sometimes shattered when they collided with too much force and frequency. When that happened, sharp fragments flew in every direction like shrapnel, causing frightening injuries to the player and anyone standing nearby.
From a highly demanded toy, the balls gradually faded into history as a memory that was both fun and terrifying. ## THE WAY PEOPLE TALKED
Before the internet and smartphones, long-distance communication while on the move took place through a device that enjoyed enormous popularity in the 1970s: the CB radio, short for Citizens Band radio. With familiar opening lines like “Breaker breaker 1-9, can anyone hear me? “, the CB radio was the start of countless two-way conversations.
Drivers, especially commercial truckers in the United States, used CB radios to communicate with each other on the road. They exchanged information about gas stations with cheap, plentiful fuel, warned each other about police speed traps, or simply chatted to relieve the boredom of long trips. The personalities who used CB radios were easy to spot in many 1970s films such as Smokey and the Bandit, with its famous “breaker breaker” line, or in the film Convoy. A whole vocabulary grew up around the radios, complete with nicknames and coded phrases, making them a cultural phenomenon rather than merely a piece of communication equipment.
## THE HOME FRONT
Inside American homes, a particular set of decorations and furnishings became almost mandatory. Upon entering a stylishly appointed seventies apartment, one might find a comfortable bean bag chair, a unique chair shaped like a hand, macramé wall hangings featuring owls, an art poster, and, of course, the magnificent lava lamp. Lava lamps were so named because the liquid inside appeared to flow like lava as it moved. They possessed a fascinating, mesmerizing beauty.
Sit and watch the colored blobs of liquid change shape endlessly and float slowly within the glass vessel, and you felt as though you had drifted into another world of relaxation and calm. They truly reflected the distinctive and wonderful character of the 1970s. More than two million lava lamps were sold, not only as decorations but also as objects of meditation. Another successful trend was the mood ring, one of the most popular jewelry trends of the 1970s.
It was worn primarily by teenagers who wanted to broadcast their mood to those around them. The idea behind the ring was genuinely ingenious: it could change between different colors. Supposedly, depending on the wearer’s mood, whether angry, sad, happy, or calm, the ring would show a different color. The ring itself was made of a glass capsule filled with liquid crystal thermotropic crystals.
These crystals changed color depending on the temperature of the skin on the finger wearing them. Everyone believed that the color on the ring would accurately reflect their inner feelings. For example, when the ring turned black, it meant you were sad. In the kitchen, a strange but highly popular item appeared in almost every home: the fondue pot.
These pots came in many of the decade’s signature colors, such as avocado green, gold, and copper, perfect for decorating a warmly styled kitchen. The cheese-filled trend became famous thanks to a clever marketing campaign that began in the 1960s. It was an effort by the Swiss Cheese Union aimed at persuading the world to consume delicious pots of melted cheese. Advertisements of the time often featured attractive Swiss models wearing ski sweaters, happily mingling around steaming fondue pots.
This advertising campaign, along with the wide availability of fondue pots at S&H Green Stamps stores, a popular loyalty program at the time, helped spread the fondue obsession everywhere. The scene of friends and family gathering around a fondue pot, dipping crispy bread into melted cheese, savoring the rich flavor, and chatting beside the new color television, was truly wonderful. ## CHILDHOOD AND PLAY
In the schoolyards, children had their own rituals. In the digital world of today, one can predict the future with a single tap on a phone.
But in the 1970s, elementary school children had a magical handmade method that was enormously popular: the paper fortune teller, also known as a cootie catcher. It was like a homemade version of a magic eight ball, made from paper using origami techniques. The game was very simple yet fascinating. Players wrote possible answers to a question inside the folds of the pre-folded paper.
Then they asked another person a question to which the written answers could apply. The fortune teller would skillfully move the paper folds, and the answer would slowly appear as if revealing destiny. This game was truly wonderful and seemed to be an obsession in schools everywhere during the 1970s. Picture a group of children gathered together, anxiously waiting for an answer from the paper fortune teller about an upcoming test, a crush on someone, or simply what to eat for lunch that day.
The joy and curiosity it brought were priceless. In the playgrounds and backyards, a game called lawn darts offered a simple concept: with skill, attention, and precision, players threw heavy darts into the air, attempting to plant them inside a plastic ring placed on the ground at a certain distance. The goal was to score points and avoid injury; you won by accumulating the most points and the fewest injuries. Although it was very fun and beloved by many, lawn dart games were not the safest product ever sold to the public.
As early as 1970, the U. S. Food and Drug Administration began requiring clear warnings on all packaging that the product was not intended for children and should not be advertised as a toy due to the potential for serious injury. Imagine a pointed, heavy game that could pose a serious danger when thrown if you were not careful.
Despite the warnings, many injuries continued to occur. Eventually, the pointed lawn darts were banned in both the United States and Canada to ensure public safety. The Wacky Packages, trading cards and humorous stickers sold to children, quickly turned into a massive obsession. What distinguished Wacky Packages was their witty artwork that cleverly parodied famous consumer products.
Suddenly, a familiar breakfast cereal box became a funny cereal package, or a dishwashing liquid bottle became a product with a mocking name. Each package of Wacky Packages contained two cards: a main card with humorous artwork and a checklist card, plus a piece of gum that was hard as a rock, something you would only chew under the most desperate circumstances. The designs became so popular that they outsold baseball cards in 1973 and 1974, making them a true phenomenon. The Magic 8 Ball, a game that still exists today, spread massively and became a phenomenon in the 1970s.
It helped many people make important life decisions with its seemingly accurate, never-random answers to important questions. The original idea for the magical ball was developed in the 1940s, but at that time it did not resemble the familiar billiard ball design we know today. Initially called the “Syco-Slate,” it was a simple cylindrical tube containing liquid with transparent windows at both ends, inside which were dice with words written on them. When you turned the tube over, the dice would float to the surface of the liquid.
The design was improved and developed over the years until it was incorporated into the shape of the number eight billiard ball. After Brunswick Billiards used it as a popular promotional product in the 1950s, the number eight design was marketed as a paperweight and became hugely popular with children. In the world of childhood play, the classic game of lawn darts, as noted, had its dangers, but so did the indoor obsession with Clackers. The paper fortune teller, meanwhile, required nothing more than paper and imagination, and it delivered hours of delight to the schoolchildren who mastered its folds.
## EVENINGS AND WEEKENDS
The decade’s evenings were shaped by another technological innovation. The eight-track tape format was preferred for its small size at the time, and, more importantly, it allowed you to play pre-recorded music in your car, a revolutionary feature in that era. Imagine the pleasure of driving down the road and playing your favorite songs without having to carry bulky vinyl records. But eight-track tapes had certain drawbacks.
Their sound quality was limited, and nothing compared to what we have today. What was especially annoying was that switching to another track during the playing of a song caused an unpleasant interruption in the middle of the music. While you were enjoying your favorite tune, suddenly you would hear an unpleasant sound and the song would cut off to move to the next track. Nevertheless, eight-track players were everywhere in the 1970s.
They were installed in most cars, and music stores displayed colorful eight-track tapes. The decade also marked the peak of a patriotic celebration. A special event created a powerful wave of national pride across America: the Spirit of ’76. This celebration inaugurated an entire era of national festivities that lasted from roughly late 1974 until July 4, 1976.
The entire country was immersed in a festive atmosphere with a series of commemorative events and unique products launched in honor of the founding of the United States and the celebration of the bicentennial of the Declaration of Independence. The Spirit of ’76 orientation was so evident that you could feel it wherever you went. Every company, regardless of what it produced, seemed to issue a special edition for the celebration. From household items and clothing to souvenirs, everything carried the mark of 1776 in national colors.
The whole country celebrated together for eighteen months, from small-town parades to large national events. The climax of the festivities was a grand ceremony in Washington, D. C. , and at the Statue of Liberty on Sunday, July 4, 1976.
On the entertainment front, the decade was not without its peculiar local television commercials. Some advertisers in the local market seemed to have lost their minds, creating television commercials that were extremely strange, hilarious, and sometimes frightening. Often these commercials were for electronics stores, music stores, and car dealerships, among many other industries. The result was a wave of local advertisements with an unmistakable style.
A recurring feature was the frequent appearance of a crazy character claiming to be a salesman, advertising prices so low that he must be insane. Imagine a man in a flashy suit dancing wildly, screaming about the incredible price of a refrigerator or a car, claiming to be crazy for offering those deals. Or even stranger advertisements, such as a dialogue between a woman and an employee at a Chevrolet dealership: “Excuse me, ma’am, but I see you bought your advertised car. ” “I know this sounds crazy, ma’am.
” “You’re crazy. You’re crazy. You and your long stockings. I can’t believe it.
” These commercials became a memorable part of the decade’s television experience. Roller skating, perhaps more than anything else, captured the essence of the 1970s. Images and footage of skaters wearing long socks, confidently showing off their skilled moves on the sunny Venice Beach boardwalk or in bustling disco clubs across the country, are instantly recognizable as a hallmark of the era. It was a scene full of energy, freedom, and style.
Many films, television programs, and songs were released to capitalize on the skating obsession. Skating quickly became part of the lifestyle, the music, and the liberated atmosphere of an entire generation. One final domestic fad deserves mention: the waterbed. The modern version of the waterbed was invented by Charles Hall in California and patented in 1971.
It immediately became a fashionable consumer product throughout the 1970s. Initially, waterbeds were designed for a serious purpose: as a sleep aid, to help reduce physical stress and provide therapeutic benefits to users. However, the media and advertisers soon exploited another angle. They began promoting waterbeds by associating them with the sexual revolution of the 1970s.
Even Hugh Hefner, the publisher of Playboy magazine, endorsed waterbeds and boldly announced that he had a waterbed covered in opossum fur. The image of the wavy, provocative waterbed soon became a symbol of freedom and liberation in society. How do you make your waterbed more flexible? Just add spring water.
That old joke, however, could not diminish the very real place the waterbed carved out for itself in the history of the American home.