The Power of the Plastic

The relationship between women and money circa 1972

It’s International Women’s Day. Earlier tonight, I was on Zoom with a lovely group of women, discussing the energy of money.

That got me thinking about my life span so far and how different finances were for women in the 1970s.

I remembered my mom getting an E.J. Korvettes personal charge plate (aka charge card). It was right before Christmas in 1972. She was very excited. It was rare for a woman to have such a thing, especially a single mom with four kids.

I wish I had a picture to document the magnitude of the moment. She ran to the light blue princess phone on the wall and called her friends (also single moms), and they had a good coffee, cake, and cigarette binge to admire the plastic, often referred to as a yenta-fest.

Random Korvettes Personal Charge Plate I found courtesy of Google Images

My mom went right to it. Instead of embarking on the four-bus expedition to Korvettes on Bay Parkway, she was emboldened by the power of the plastic and called a car service. Off she went in style to load up on Christmas gifts.

When she got home, it was late. She woke me up to wrap the presents. I loved wrapping presents; another story about that… coming soon.

Here I am on Christmas Eve, trying to act surprised when I opened the giant Barbie head that came with blue eyeshadow! My 8-year-old self was in heaven. It was also a wrapping challenge that I aced.

* Take a moment to check out the decor. It’s like falling into an Ebay dream.

Donna Cravotta - 1972 Christmas, Brooklyn, NY

All nostalgia aside, in the 1970s, women were limited in what they could do financially. My mom getting that charge plate was freedom, but it was likely a fluke.

Until the passing of the Equal Credit Opportunity Act of 1974, women had to have a co-signer to apply for a credit card. It was often a husband, father, or brother. What if you didn’t have one of those? It was a degrading experience intended to keep women in their place. Let’s work hard NOT to go back there.

It’s no wonder that my mom carried weird energy around money her entire life, and I have adopted some of that too, but I’m working on it. She never believed she could own a home, even when she did. She tried to talk me out of my first apartment when I bought it. Mom talked a good game about independence, but her trauma was deep, and there was no Dr. Google to sort things out. She was stuck between who she was told she was and who she wanted to be.

On this International Women’s Day, let’s celebrate the women of the 1970s who blazed a path to freedom with newly minted Korvettes charge plates in hand. Let’s make them proud!

What’s your money story? Bonus points for cool pics.