Startling truth: if you own a handful of everyday items, you’re wealthier than most people on Earth, even when you feel average. That realization hit me while I reorganized my Venice Beach apartment last weekend and noticed how many things most of humanity could only dream of owning. These aren’t luxury splurges; they’re ordinary items that suddenly highlight how different our realities are from grandparents’ generation. My grandmother raised four kids on a teacher’s salary, volunteered at the food bank every Saturday, and managed her money with extraordinary care. Today, I find myself lamenting about upgrading camera gear, surrounded by possessions that would have astonished her—wealth she never had access to.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: possessing certain common items can place you ahead of the vast majority of people globally, not because you’re rich, but because global wealth distribution is more lopsided than many realize, and our sense of “average” is miscalibrated.
Below are seven purchases that, if sitting in your home right now, indicate you’re doing better than you might think.
1) A laptop or personal computer
That laptop you might be reading this on costs more than what many people earn in months or even years. The World Bank notes that roughly half the world’s population lives on less than $6.85 per day. A decent laptop ranges from about $500 to $1,500. For billions, buying a computer would require saving for months while still feeding, housing, and sustaining basic needs. I’ve used my MacBook for years—from writing articles in coffee shops around LA to editing photos and managing my freelance life. When it started acting up, my first instinct wasn’t “how will I cope?” but “how soon can I replace it?” That reaction is wealth talking. Owning a computer outright creates compounding advantages—remote work, online education, and digital skill development all hinge on that initial purchase, something many people can’t secure.
2) A reliable vehicle
Whether it’s a car, motorcycle, or a sturdy bicycle, personal transportation signals wealth in a big way. I don’t own a car anymore since moving to a walkable area with challenging parking, but I spent years relying on one. The freedom to travel on your schedule—without depending on erratic public transit or pricey rides—shapes your entire life. Transportation influences job opportunities, healthcare access, social connections, and emergency responses. Research shows that unreliable transportation is a major barrier to employment for low-income people, even in developed nations. Globally, car ownership concentrates in wealthy countries; in many places, a bicycle is a significant asset and a car is out of reach. If you own a vehicle that reliably gets you from A to B without constant expensive repairs, you’re holding an asset many people can’t access.
3) A smartphone under three years old
A relatively recent smartphone is a marker of significant wealth. New flagship devices exceed $1,000, even budget models cost hundreds, and we replace them every few years with little thought. This cycle creates electronic waste while billions still struggle to acquire their first device. When I upgraded from my old iPhone two years ago, I did it with minimal hesitation—my old phone worked, but its performance and camera didn’t meet my needs. The fact that I could afford that upgrade still surprises me. The smartphone market has fostered an expectation that devices should be regularly refreshed, a luxury problem for many around the world.
4) Kitchen appliances beyond the basics
Look into your kitchen: microwave, coffee maker, blender, toaster, perhaps a stand mixer or a food processor. Each of these is a purchase many people will never make. In many regions, cooking happens over simple stoves or open fires. Owning multiple dedicated appliances that streamline cooking signals abundance. My own kitchen includes a high-powered blender for cashew cheese, a rice cooker for batch-cooked grains, an electric kettle for oat-milk lattes, and a food processor. These aren’t necessities; they’re conveniences purchased because I had the disposable income and the belief that cooking should be easier.
5) Books, streaming services, or entertainment subscriptions
How much do you spend monthly on Netflix, Spotify, Prime Video, or other subscriptions? Entertainment is a luxury expenditure—something you buy after your survival needs are met. If you regularly pay for access to media, books, games, or other leisure, you’re signaling that you’ve got room to prioritize pleasure. The entertainment industry is vast and concentrated in wealthier populations, and owning books also carries a historical marker of wealth and education. Personal libraries remain a luxury in many parts of the world.
6) Clothing beyond immediate needs
How many shoes do you own? How full is your closet? If you have outfits for different occasions, seasonal wardrobes, or items bought for reasons beyond immediate necessity, you’re displaying wealth through consumption. A recent closet purge revealed vintage band tees I barely wear, jackets for various weathers in a warm climate, and items bought, worn once, then forgotten. The fashion industry relies on overconsumption, a pattern still prevalent in wealthy markets. In many regions, people own a handful of durable outfits and repair them until they’re threadbare. Americans, on average, discard substantial amounts of clothing—often not because of wear, but because tastes and trends change, a reflection of wealth.
7) Furniture and home decor beyond the basics
Take a look at your living space. Did you choose your couch, bed, or desk? Do you own decorative items that serve little functional purpose beyond aesthetic appeal? Furniture purchased for comfort or style beyond the essentials represents a form of capital investment in daily life. My space includes photography gear displayed on shelves, potted plants on the balcony, and multiple office pieces to craft a productive workspace with a view. None of this is strictly necessary; I could work on the floor, sleep on a simple mattress, and eat without a proper table. Yet I invested in comfort and atmosphere because I could. In many parts of the world, furniture is minimal and functional, and the ability to buy pieces for pleasure signals substantial wealth.
Conclusion
This inventory taught me a revealing perspective: by American standards I’m not ‘rich’; as a freelance writer in an expensive city, I manage a careful budget. But by global standards, I’m exceedingly fortunate. Recognizing our real position in the world shifts how we view spending, redefines what we consider needs versus wants, and changes how we respond to financial stress. The aim isn’t to halt buying or feel guilty about possessions. It’s to recalibrate what feels normal. If you own most of these seven items, you’re not just surviving—you’re operating from a position of global wealth.
This shift in perspective has, for me, been oddly liberating. It makes gratitude more natural while still keeping me focused on future goals. It also helps distinguish genuine financial difficulties from the nagging sense that I lack as much as others. And perhaps if more of us recognize how much we already have, we’ll choose to use our resources more thoughtfully and extend help to others.
Would you like this rewritten piece to lean more toward practical budgeting tips, or keep a broader, reflective storytelling style? Also, would you prefer a version that feels more formal and corporate, or one that stays warm and personable for a blog audience?
