If you wanted something to wear, your mum or a friend's mum made it. A bag full of hand-me-downs from the older girl two doors up the street was like Christmas.
Anyone who wanted to bring in items of clothing from overseas had to hack off the labels and scruff them up a bit, because the tariffs and taxes on imported clothing were ruinous – so as to protect the local manufacturing industry.
There were clothing manufacturers right around the country up until the 1980s and highly skilled men and women turned out beautiful, long-wearing shoes and garments.
Those days are gone now – consigned to history along with careless days and Top Town – and the market has been flooded with cheap and cheerful clothing made in Thailand, India and China.
It means that just about everyone can now afford to clothe themselves and their children in a bewildering number of outfits, but it also means that manufacturing clothing in this country is a tough proposition.
Ever since the brouhaha over the WORLD T-shirts made the headlines, the issue of how you define "Made in New Zealand" has been hotly debated.
Dame Denise L'Estrange Corbet insists that because the component parts of WORLD's T-shirts are designed and put together in New Zealand, that justifies a Made in New Zealand tag.
Critics say a T-shirt produced in Bangladesh and adorned with a sequined patch made in China doesn't warrant the Made in New Zealand premium.
I think anyone who chooses to stay in this country and compete with the rest of the world deserves kudos.
I can't imagine what it must be like to try to keep your head above water when the machinery and the expertise has vanished from the industry and when so many other countries can produce products so much more cheaply.
But consumers have a right to know where their goods have come from, be it food, fashion or furniture.
And if it was a combination of Bangladesh and Chinese production and New Zealand design, where's the harm in letting consumers know?
I know it's difficult to manufacture and make entirely within this country, but just be honest with your customers. Scrupulously honest. Not hair-splittingly, hanging on a technicality, honest.
I don't think it's too much to ask where the wood for my New Zealand-designed table came from, or where the fruit in my Kiwi icecream was grown, or who made my T-shirt.
I'll still support any business that does what it can to keep manufacturing and production alive in this country – even if they can't keep it 100 per cent Kiwi. If you show me you're making an honest effort, I'll keep supporting you.