IN San Francisco's I. Magnin & Co. shoppers can buy, for $500, an 8-ft. cloth-covered, motorized kangaroo that pops a 3-ft. kangaroo out of its pouch. But they had better hurry, because the store sold out its supply once and had to scour Europe for more. In Beverly Hills a thoughtful fellow sent a birthday present to a department-store executive "who has everything": a brush specially designed to clean the lint from his navel. R. H. Macy, Manhattan's mass department store, offers French beaded purses for $99.50; Sears, Roebuck, the farmer's friend, catalogues a $3,210 diamond ring for the farmer's wife, a $718 electric golf cart for the farmer. Last week, at the Summer Gift Show in Chicago's Merchandise Mart, prices were up as much as 100% over five years ago, but the show had the most successful run in its history, with sales 50% ahead of last year. One puzzled firm reported selling 200 Egyptian camel saddles at $100 apiece last year, could not figure out what for. Said Ted Russell of the gift firm of N. S. Gustin: "I'm flabbergasted. The whole trend is amazing."
In 1956 a great and growing number of Americans are willing and able to buy products considered luxuries (or unheard of) by their fathers, and even by themselves a generation ago. Says Lever Bros. Chairman Jervis Babb: "The great mass of American families have graduated from a people who work for a living to a people who work for luxury. Price is no longer a basic standard. People buy for value. The store's problem is not to get rid of steaks, but to move the hamburger."
Statistically, the explanation is simple. Americans are making more money, have more to spend. Disposable income (after taxes) stood at $270.6 billion last year v. $206.1 billion for 1950, $150.4 billion for 1945. And since 1940, U.S. discretionary income—the amount remaining from disposable income after subtracting food, clothing, housing, other necessities—has increased sixfold. There are other reasons. People have a greater feeling of security about the future induced by continued prosperity; they feel free to spend. They have more time to buy and to enjoy—roughly 1,200 more leisure hours annually than their grandparents had. Their tastes have been upgraded to an appreciation of quality.
The gold-plated and mink-trimmed whatnots are only the smallest part of the luxury market. To U.S. economists, the amazing fact about the new luxury market is the broadening and democratization of both the market and the luxuries themselves. Gone are the days when luxury meant a private railroad car, a steam yacht, a Newport château. From an emphasis on the ostentatious things that go with ceremony, luxury has focused on the convenient gadgets that make life easy for the many.