Growing Up in the 60s and 70s: A Life Within Our Means

An Austin Cambridge from the 1960s

When I think back to my childhood in the 60s and 70s in the industrial valleys of South Wales in the UK, what strikes me most is how little we had, and yet how much it shaped me. We were poor. Clothes were almost always hand-me-downs - rarely new, often patched up, and passed along until they simply couldn’t be worn anymore. I had one pair of shoes for school and another for playing outside. You learned to make them last.

Christmas was the one time of year when something new might appear. My parents would scrape together what they could to make it special, but once January came, it was straight back to living within our meagre means. There were no credit cards, no “buy now, pay later.” You either managed with what you had, or you went without.

Cars, when we had them, were always old bangers. I still remember our light blue Austin Cambridge (similar to the one in the pic). It spent as much time off the road as on it. If it broke down, that was it, we’d go without a car for weeks on end until we could afford a repair or scrape together enough for another old wreck.

Entertainment was simple. The TV had three channels, and that was enough. We all watched the same programmes, so the next day at school everyone could talk about the same show. Meals were straightforward too - you ate what was on your plate. “Like it or lump it” was the rule. No one asked if you fancied something different.

Life at home wasn’t always rosy. Most adults smoked, most dads drank, and while that was just the way things were, it didn’t make for much warmth. Holidays were rare, and when they did happen, it usually meant camping in the nearby countryside or a caravan during the factory fortnight (last week of July and first week of August). Places like the seaside town Porthcawl were packed with families from the valleys of Wales where I grew up - you’d bump into all your neighbours. They even had a name for it: “hiya butt bay,” a particularly Welsh working class expression because everyone you saw was someone you knew.

Work came early for me. I was on my dad’s milk round seven days a week by the age of seven. At nine, I picked up a paper round, and by Saturday evenings I was selling the Football Echo which had the football results hot off the press! That was just life; if you wanted money, you earned it. Our one big treat was Saturday mornings at the ABC Minors cinema club. For a few pence, we had the magic of the movies, a welcome escape from the grind of everyday life.

By my teens, if I’d managed to save a little, I’d treat myself to a steamed pie (steamed with the milk wand of the coffee machine in a small lidded pot) and a frothy coffee (we now call cappuccino) in one of the Italian cafés in town. It felt like luxury at the time.

We didn’t have much, and I knew it. But living within our means taught me resilience. It showed me the value of money and the satisfaction of earning your own. We had no sense of entitlement, no easy fixes. And while life was tough, I think it also gave us a grit and a groundedness that you don’t always see today.

Looking back now, I can see that those lean years gave me more than they took.

The Coaching Lesson

Those early years taught me lessons that are just as relevant in business leadership as they are in life. Leaders today often face the temptation of “easy credit” in a different form - quick wins, short-term fixes, or chasing every shiny new idea. But just like my family couldn’t buy beyond our means, successful businesses can’t thrive on borrowed time and overextension.

Resilient leaders know how to make the most of limited resources, how to prioritise, and how to build strength from constraints. They understand that true growth doesn’t come from having it all, but from focusing on what really matters, whether that’s people, culture, or strategy and doing it with discipline and consistency.

The best leaders, like the best families, don’t waste energy wishing for more. They set clear priorities, work hard with what they have, and build sustainable success step by step. That’s where strength, credibility, and long-term impact are forged.