My parents' first set was a mismatched combination of Kenmores. There was a circa 1960 washer, the details of which I can't seem to recall properly. Several people here have tried to help me by posting pics of dials and consoles, but I haven't seen one that looks quite right. Possibly I don't remember it properly. I know it had infinite water level, a knob that selected one of five temp combinations, and three cycles including a lo-speed delicate cycle. It had the cartridge filter, which my mom hated to clean. Possibly as a result, I recall the hose from the pump to the filter bursting twice and flooding the garage. (What is it with lint filters and the women in my life? My DW refuses to touch the lint filter on our dryer. She says the feel of it grosses her out.) It also had a socket for a tub light, but it seldom worked because the bulbs didn't last long and my dad thought it was too much trouble to open up the top just to change the bulb. It had a white basket and black agi.
The dryer was the '61 Lady Kenmore with the big pastel rocker switches that was a POD a couple of weeks ago. I recall that the timer mechanism seldom worked properly. Dad was always having to work on it. Eventually he just wired it so that it ran anytime the door was closed. (Actually, I can, just barely, recall that this was our first dryer. Before that, everything was dried on the line. The line was one of those four-sided things that rotates on top of a pole. It remained in service for some time after the dryer arrived, since my mom preferred towels and linens to be dried on the line.
My maternal grandmother and great-aunt (who lived a few doors apart on the same street) both had identical Maytag wringers. It was the one with the red push-pull knob for turning the motor on and off, and the red release bar on the wringer. My great-aunt had hers on her back porch, and my grandmother had hers in an unheated back room in her house, so in the winter they took their clothes to a laundromat the next street over. Washing with the wringers had a certain rhythm to it: put stuff in, agitate it, run it through the wringer and into a galvanized washtop full of water for the rinse. Dunk the clothes in the rinse water a few times. Switch the wringer to run in the other direction (and the little drain plate tilts the other way), run the rinsed clothes through, toss them in a basket to go out to the line. Then start the next batch. Same water used for all, unless there was a really big pile, in which case the rinse water might get changed halfway through. My grandmother filled hers from a hose attached to an ancient wall-hung sink. My great-aunt was more gonzo than that. She liked her wash water hot. She'd get out a huge old canning pot, fill it with water, boil it on the stove, take that to the washer, and dump it in. Then, a couple of pots of cold water in on top of it (got the temp down to bearable, just barely). At end of washday, grandmother hooked the hose from hers over the lip of the sink and engaged the pump. Great-aunt just wheeled the machine over to the door of the bath adjoining the porch, and let it gravity drain into the toilet. Once it was empty, there was the ritual of removing the agi, greasing the shaft, cleaning the lint filter, and drying out the interior with towels. In all of her life, my grandmother refused to allow an automatic washer to cross her threshold. She didn't believe in those new-fangled things. (She never had any beef with the ones at the laudromat, though...)
An aunt on my father's side (wife of one of my father's brothers) I recall having a frog-eye Kenmore. It was sort of built into the kitchen cabinets, with some kind of foam rubber material to try to isolate the vibration from the adjoining cabinetry. Once, my aunt was trying to wash a largish rubber-backed bath rug by itself. It agitated okay, but when it tried to spin, the rug bunched up on one side and it went off balance (setting off the horrible Kenmore buzzer). She tried to rearrange it several times, to no avail. Then she had an inspiration. She took the rug out of the tub and draped it over the top of the agitator. It spun just fine that way!
Another aunt had a mid-'60s Kenmore washer, the one with all of the curlicues on the panel and the pincushion-shaped areas where the water level and temp knobs were located, on either side of the timer. I had not seen her or that uncle in years (he was my father's oldest brother, and they were both in ill health for some time). The uncle died last year. After the funeral, the whole family went to their house to eat. (It's a family tradition; we eat after a funeral. Or a wedding. Or at a holiday. Or pretty much any time, come to think of it...) The house was like a time capsule. It still looked like what I remember of it from their mid-'60s remodel. Kitchen table with stainless steel banding and a red speckled laminate top. Vinyl-covered chairs. Etc. Anyway, I was poking around a bit and I went out onto the porch. I was stunned to find that same Kenmore still there! It was in pretty bad shape, though. Lots of rust. No telling when was the last time it worked.