15 Items Found In Every ’70s Garage That Make Absolutely Zero Sense Now
Ah, the groovy ’70s—a colorful decade when bell bottoms were all the rage, lava lamps lit up bedrooms, and disco fever had everyone dancing under glittering lights.
But while the dance floors were alive with boogie, something quirky was happening in garages across America. These sacred suburban spaces weren’t just for parking cars—they were treasure troves of oddball items that made total sense back then but would definitely raise eyebrows today.
From shag carpet-covered tool benches to mysterious contraptions no one under 40 could name, the ’70s garage was a world of its own. It was a place where practicality met eccentricity, where DIY dreams were built—and sometimes forgotten.
So, let’s take a lighthearted, nostalgic cruise through the past and rediscover 15 garage relics that defined the era. Some may make you chuckle, others might make you cringe, but all are guaranteed to spark a memory or two from this unforgettable decade.
1. Ashtray Full of Nuts and Bolts
You’d think it was for smoking, but nope—this ashtray was a sanctuary for all those mysterious nuts and bolts. My dad insisted on keeping every single piece of hardware ‘just in case.’ Of course, none of them fit anything we owned.
Imagine sifting through this pile, hearing the clatter of tiny metal pieces, hoping to find the one you need. Spoiler: you never did.
The ashtray, a relic of its time, sat proudly on the workbench—a symbol of DIY dreams. Looking back, it was like a treasure chest of frustration, but it sure added character to the garage. Who knew an ashtray could embody so much hope?
2. Jug of Used Motor Oil
Ah, the jug of used motor oil—a staple no garage could do without, apparently. It squatted in the corner like an unwelcome guest, never to be moved or used. My uncle swore it had a purpose, though I suspect even he forgot what it was.
Emitting a faint, oily odor, it was the garage’s black gold, though none of us knew its true value. Every so often, someone would suggest getting rid of it, only to be met with collective gasps.
Despite its apparent uselessness, the jug remains a memory of simpler times when recycling wasn’t a thing. It stood as a testament to the ‘fix it, don’t ditch it’ mentality, which, while admirable, often led to clutter. And so, the jug remained, as permanent as the stains on the garage floor.
3. Coffee Can Full of Old Screws
The coffee can of screws was a puzzle wrapped in a riddle. My grandma kept it because there might be a use for them someday. Spoiler: that day never came.
Rattling around like a maraca, it served more as a musical instrument than a practical resource. Each screw was unique, none matching the others—an eclectic collection of pure chaos.
Every attempt to find the right screw ended in frustration, yet the can remained, a testament to our eternal optimism. It was like a time capsule of forgotten projects, but hey, at least it added a touch of industrial chic to the decor!
4. Wood Paneling Samples
Wood paneling samples were the epitome of ’70s chic. My parents dreamt of transforming the garage into a ‘den.’ Alas, it remained a dream.
These samples were like the swatches of fashion, promising a future of cozy gatherings. Yet, they never made it past the planning phase.
A collection of forgotten aspirations, they served as a reminder of ambitions unfulfilled. But hey, at least they added a rustic charm to the place, even if they never made it onto the walls.
5. Manual Lawn Mower with a Rusted Blade
Lawn care has never been more medieval than with this manual mower. Its rusted blade was more suited for a museum than mowing the lawn.
Despite its archaic nature, my grandpa insisted it worked ‘just fine.’ Cutting grass with this device was more about endurance than efficiency.
A relic of simpler times, it reminded us of an era when effort was the norm. This mower was less about utility and more about nostalgia. It stood as a symbol of stubbornness and tradition, clunkily echoing the past with every squeaky wheel turn.
6. Macramé Plant Hanger With No Plant
Even garages needed to feel groovy, and what better way than with a macramé plant hanger? Mine was a splash of ’70s color, though devoid of greenery.
Its intricate knots spoke of craftsmanship and bohemian flair, but alas, no plant ever called it home. It swayed gently with the garage breeze, a reminder of aspirations for a greener space.
A vestige of the hippie era, the hanger was both art and utility, though more of the former. It added a quirky charm to the garage, blending utility with whimsy. A nod to the past, it dangled there, waiting patiently for its leafy tenant.
7. Giant Tube TV Waiting to Be “Fixed”
In every ’70s garage, a giant tube TV awaited its second chance. Ours sat in the corner, hopeful yet doomed, with wires hanging like party streamers.
My dad, ever the optimist, swore he’d fix it someday. Spoiler: he never did. It gathered dust like a trophy, but without the glory.
The TV was more than just a broken appliance; it was a monument to dreams and determination. It symbolized the era’s can-do spirit, even if it never saw another episode of ‘The Brady Bunch.’
8. Stack of Yellowed Popular Mechanics Magazines
A stack of Popular Mechanics magazines was the holy grail of projects. My brother and I flipped through them, dreaming of our mechanical conquests.
Yellowed with age, they exuded the smell of old paper and imagination. Each issue held the promise of a project we’d definitely tackle someday.
While most plans never left the page, the magazines fueled our creative fires. They were more than reading material—they were a gateway to innovation, albeit one often left unopened.
9. Paint Cans with No Labels
The paint cans were a mystery wrapped in an enigma. My mom kept them for touch-ups that never happened.
Each can promised a unique hue, though mostly shades of beige. Their contents were more solid than liquid, adding to the intrigue.
Despite their uselessness, they held a certain charm, like an art piece of forgotten projects. They stood as a colorful testament to past renovations and the endless possibilities of ‘what if.’
10. Broken Rake Held Together with Electrical Tape
A broken rake, patched with electrical tape, was a testament to resourcefulness. My dad refused to let it die, claiming it worked ‘good as new.’
Each use was a gamble, with the tape holding on for dear life. Yet he insisted it had at least one more season left.
More than a tool, the rake symbolized determination and thriftiness. It was a reminder that even the most broken things had their place, if only for sentimental value.
11. Flypaper Strips Hanging from the Ceiling
Flypaper strips dangled ominously from the ceiling, a gory trap for bugs—and an unexpected snare for unsuspecting hair.
They were a grim reminder of summer days spent swatting flies. Their sticky presence was both a solution and a hazard.
Despite their grim nature, they spoke of a time when simple solutions sufficed. The strips were both practical and perilous, a testament to the no-nonsense ’70s approach to pest control.
12. Mystery Key Collection
The mystery key collection was a riddle wrapped in a conundrum. My dad kept them, convinced they unlocked something important.
Each key had a story, none we knew. Cars, sheds, even the neighbor’s house? The possibilities were endless.
This jangling mass of metal was more than clutter—it was an archive of forgotten memories. They dangled there, a metallic symphony of nostalgia and curiosity.
13. Homemade Workbench That Wobbled
Built with leftover plywood and dreams, our workbench had a charming wobble. My brother and I claimed it was for ‘added character.’
Every project took twice as long due to its precarious balance. It stood as a testament to DIY spirit and sibling collaboration.
Though more unstable than useful, the bench was our creative hub, where imagination thrived amidst the chaos. It leaned, but never collapsed—much like our innovative spirit.
14. One Roller Skate
Somewhere in the Nixon era, its partner disappeared, but the lone skate lingered. My cousin swore he’d find the other someday.
Scuffed and worn, it was a relic of childhood adventures and youthful dreams. Its solitary presence was both poignant and perplexing.
This skate was more than footwear—it was a time capsule of carefree days. It rolled through history on its own, a symbol of lost pairs and enduring memories.
15. Old License Plates on the Wall
License plates adorned our garage walls, a gallery of travels and tales. My dad called it ‘art,’ though it was more like organized chaos.
Each plate was a story, a journey captured in metal. They hung proudly, a testament to adventures both taken and dreamed.
This decorative choice spoke of a life well-traveled, even if vicariously. They were more than decorations—they were milestones of mechanical and personal history.