Seventies chic, Dublin style

In 1974, my dad’s job took us to Brook Court, in Monkstown, a quiet Dublin suburb. He had worked in local government as an accountant for the health board in Galway, then got a job with the health board in Dublin.

Dublin is on the other side of the country from Galway, and it was a huge move. At the time, Ireland was economically depressed, and it took ages to sell the house in Galway. I remember trips to Dublin to look at houses, my parents agonising over what they could afford. In the end, they paid IR£16,000 for the house in Brook Court. They still live there today. Recently, another house on the same street sold for £670,000. Ireland has changed so much, and one of the most noticeable ways is in the price of property.

When we moved in, the house was brand new, which I found terribly exciting. I was 11, and had this thing about it being a fresh start. I wanted the house to remain perfect, but my parents had five children, so, of course, I couldn’t. I am the eldest; I have a brother, Niall, who is two and a half years younger than me, and a sister, Caitriona, who is four years younger. The twins, Tadhg and Rita-Anne, are four years below her. There were four bedrooms, so Niall and Tadhg shared, Caitriona and I shared and, for some reason, Rita-Anne was in isolated luxury on her own. I have no memory of wanting my own room – I liked the company. Caitriona and I were close, we shared clothes and our friends overlapped. Besides, we would have corrupted poor Rita-Anne.

The house is fake Georgian. The outside is painted white, and the windows have lots of little square panes – a delight to clean. Over the years, my parents have changed the decor, but it used to be 1970s “chic” – I use the word tongue in cheek. In the boys’ room were nylon fitted things with a valance that you threw over the beds. When you walked past, there was a crackle, and the hairs on your legs would stand on end. I remember a pink candlewick bedspread Caitriona and I had – we shared a bed at one stage. When I was 16, we got pink wallpaper, which was thrilling.

There was a good front room that remains the “good front room” today; it is the one area where my mother keeps things pristine. We are still hardly ever allowed in. Behind it is the dining room, and dividing the two rooms are double connecting doors, which were fashionable at the time. Before we moved in, we got the builders to convert the garage into an all-purpose family room, where we watched television and could be as untidy as we liked. They also extended the kitchen – being a family of seven, we needed a big kitchen.

The house was always packed with friends. I was at Rockford Manor, a convent at the top of the road, and the local boys’ school wasn’t far. Every lunchtime, there seemed to be millions of boyfriends and aspiring boyfriends gathered round the kitchen table. My mother is good with people, especially young people. Her nurturing was done through her personality rather than her food. I’m not saying she deprived or starved us, but she never really liked to cook. Our freezer was always full of 1970s delicacies such as Findus Crispy Pancakes. Even though the food was not the most delicious, the fun we used to have was magnificent.

As the kitchen had been extended, the garden was small. Gardening was low on the list of priorities, because my mother had five children to look after and my father worked hard. Mam used to work in the civil service, but when she got married, she was obliged by law to give up her job. It’s not like that any more, but it just shows what a different country Ireland was then, and how hard women have had to fight to be treated as equals.

One of the things that coloured my childhood and teenage years was the fact that Ireland was poor. Many of the things that happened or didn’t happen to me are a result of that, including the fact that I lived with my parents while I studied law at Dublin university. Unlike in Britain, most Irish students lived at home.

When I was 22, I moved to London. There was no prospect of a career in law in Ireland, and London seemed full of possibilities. There were other reasons for the move, which I didn’t fully understand myself. I am a recovering alcoholic and, at the time, I had the alcoholic thinking of, “I am hopeless, I am worthless, my life is going nowhere, but if I live somewhere more exciting, maybe that will change.” Of course, wherever I go, I bring myself with me. My parents didn’t realise I had a problem, and were sad to see me go, because we are a close family and I was the first to leave home.

Ten years ago, I moved back to Dublin with my husband, Tony. We weren’t looking for a house near my parents, but the property we could afford and wanted just happened to be 10 minutes’ walk from them. Their home is still incredibly welcoming, and, because my dad has more time, the garden is lovely now. He takes real pride in his roses – he’s gone terribly English.

Marian Keyes fronts the Wilkinson Sword Summer Read campaign; www.wilkinson-sword.co.uk

Explore Property

• Buying & Selling

• New Homes

• Overseas

• Interiors

• Investment

• Gardens

• Cool In Your Code

• Specials

• First-time buyer

Times recommends

• Second homes: credit crunch casualty or money-spinner?
• How I built my own sliding house
• Top 10 incentives for house buyers