I was watching a television program about the British Royal family. During the broadcast, the narrator took us (the viewers) on a tour of some of the Royal Palace’s grandest chambers. I remember quite clearly seeing a marvelous chair in sumptuous red velvet that was, quite literally, fit for a queen. Just at the foot of that chair was a small, matching stool upon which someone, presumably Her Majesty, would rest his or her feet. Then it struck me. Footstools are not common, ordinary or mundane. They are the place to rest royal feet.
Now, I don’t rule a country but I do rule my house. I maintain order and police the behavior of my spouse and offspring. I govern the economy and oversee supply and demand. Moreover, I have the final say in any and all arguments. Don’t believe me? Ask my husband. In as much as I fulfill what I consider the to be the requirements for household nobility, I decided to treat myself like the House-Queen that I am. So, when the show ended, I pulled our old ottoman that Spanky (our dog) had gnawed, from the garage and took it to the upholstery shop. In less than a week, it was back. Now, however, it looked just as a prop for my royal tootsies should.
While I did not exactly go with the royal red velvet look, my old ottoman now boasts a beautiful floral brocade with some very regal looking colors worked into the motif. It has enough padding to ensure my tired feet are comfortable and just the right bit of golden tassel around the edges to make it look regal. Indeed, it would look right at home in a castle. I like it so much that I am considering footstools for every room, but this will have to do for now. This queen is always keeping a wary eye on her kingdom’s budget!