Sad irons a weighty topic

Antique sad irons make great doorstops.
(Photo: Gerri Bauer)

For some reason, sad irons intrigue me at the moment. No clue why. I have three I use as doorstops. I usually think about them only when moving them to vacuum.

The history of sad irons popped up instantly when I asked Google/AI. I asked myself whether to bother writing a blog post about them. 

But the AI overview neglected to say that sewists can buy fabric with sad-iron designs depicted on it. I found some on Spoonflower and Etsy. A while ago, Missouri Star Quilt Company released a fabric collection devoted to irons and pressing tools, both new and antique. 

I can't find that fabric line online any longer. That always happens with fabric collections released for quilters. The specific fabric is available for a short period of time. The collections aren't reprinted and are rarely reissued. Once they're gone, sewists hunt for needed pieces from second-market sellers. 

The fabric trail tells me other people are interested in antique irons, too. That's good, because this isn't a post about sewing. It's about those sad irons. 

The irons' "sad" moniker is believed to have evolved from an old English word that meant solid. And solid they are. All metal and of various weights - 4, 5, 6 pounds or so - depending on intended use. Lighter ones were for ironing thinner items such as delicate clothing; heavier ones for things like tablecloths. 

It's too easy to equate the word sad with the mood of people using the irons in pre-electricity Florida. We can't. Who knows what they were thinking. 

All we truly know is that ironing was a workout. Households usually had multiple sad irons because one or two would heat atop the stove while another was in use. They cooled fairly quickly and needed reheating. Their poundage seemed to increase the longer the ironing session continued. Arms and shoulders grew tired.

Many typical homesteaders did their own washing and ironing. Wealthier homesteaders often hired others to do those chores. I hope workers were paid a decent wage for the era, but suspect that wasn't always the case. I also suspect more than a few pioneers ironed only what was necessary. That's what I would have done.

Washing and ironing was such a big job it required two days. One for washing, one for ironing. The entire procedure sounds grueling - filling buckets, heating the water, scrubbing with harsh soap, rinsing in other buckets, drying - often atop shrubs - then ironing, ironing, ironing. 

Sad irons have become collectable now that nobody actually has to use them, at least not in Florida. What's really sad is that some people make and sell fake ones. 

After reading online how to discern a fake, I wonder if one or possibly two of mine fit the parameters. I'm fairly sure the one that somebody long ago painted green is the real deal.

Real or fake, they work well as doorstops. And as reminders of times so distant from today it can be hard to imagine them.