What ever happened to hassocks? I ask the question, but in truth I think I have already found the answer. Judging by what I found when I went looking for photos of hassocks on Google Images just now, all the hassocks currently reside at online stores that feature or specialize in vintage, like Etsy and a place called Vintage Looks (which, now that I have found it, is a site that I may well spend the rest of my life in). So I guess a whole new generation of hipsters is discovering hassocks.
You remember hassocks, don’t you? (Okay, well, if you were born after about 1974, maybe not so much.) But anyway, they were those little puffy things that adorned every living room in North America once upon a time, used as footstools, or for the youngest kid to sit on when everyone was watching TV. They tended to be upholstered in what I think we now call “pleather,” and in what now seem kind of garish colours – but hey, it was the ’60s and ’70s.
Why did I start thinking about hassocks? Because I needed one not long ago.
When Raymond and I were at the Manse for several days over Christmas, and were both wrung out by that nasty flu that’s going around this year, we spent a lot of time in the vintage leather rocking chairs in the dining room. We were supposed to be making Christmas preparations, but were feeling too tired and achy and rotten to do anything very strenuous. Reading our books and newspapers in the rocking chairs seemed like a very good alternative.
It made me realize something, though: when you are feeling tired and achy and rotten, you want to put your feet up. And we had nothing to put our feet up on. We needed a hassock. Actually, we needed two – one for each of us.
Here in Montreal we don’t have that problem, because we have recliner chairs – and, come to think of it, maybe the rise of recliner chairs was partly to blame for the disappearance of hassocks. But while I found myself at Christmas wishing I could teleport those nice red recliners to the Manse, I think what would be more appropriate and in the spirit of my childhood days there would be to acquire some hassocks.
Local antiques and collectibles dealers, here we come.