Bernard O'Shea: Potpourri, foot spas... whatever happened to all the things we 'had to have'?

We were once told we couldn’t live without the George Foreman grill, then the air fryer came along

'The foot spa was that gift that you opened and thought secretly, "I’m never going to use this".'

Last week on Instagram, I posted a tongue-in-cheek reel announcing the death of potpourri. I hadn’t seen a dusty bowl of it in a house for at least 20 years.

If I had a childhood fragrance, it would be stale potpourri in a chipped bowl (I’m thinking Tom Ford should definitely do it). So what happened to our dried-up purple friends? Who killed potpourri? Surely there is a true crime podcast there?

It got me thinking. Things don’t officially go out of fashion. There are no public announcements like, “People of Ireland, CrossFit is no longer a thing; you shall all start Hyrox”.

At any given Christmas, a certain “must have” item is like gold dust and, ironically, ends up in an attic covered in dust. Every time I attempt a spring clean to get rid of unwanted crap, I generally uncover something that instantly makes me think, “Wow, remember that?” As if it wasn’t the future when it was first bought initially.

However, most of them don’t just disappear, they are phased out, a new miraculous product takes their place, and the cycle of buying continues. So, in the true investigative journalism spirit, I asked what happened to the following trend-inducing items?

The George Foreman grill

This countertop king made its way into every single Irish kitchen in the mid-1990s. Essentially, it was a double-plated grill angled at 30 degrees to let the fat (the tasty bit) run off into (brace yourself for some weird nostalgia here) a grey plastic canoe-shaped tray.

In today’s food and nutrition culture, fats are welcomed. But in the mid-90s, fat was public enemy No 1, and George was there to help you rid your life of it.

It was a genius stroke to add Forman’s name onto it — a big, strong boxer who eats lean. By the way, if you’re under 30 and reading this, influencing has been around long before social media, bucko.

The grill sold more than 100 million units. But the biggest selling point was you could actually see the fat. It was like performing some Penn and Teller illusion in your kitchen. We inspected it, looked at it, held it up to the gods, and declared: “I was going to put this into my body.” It was the closest you could ever get to physically removing the guilt from your food as you ate it.

So what happened? Two things. Firstly, nutritional research reared its head above the culinary parfait and decided not all fats are bad, and secondly, enter stage left (drum roll, please) the air fryer.

Where once the Foreman grill could cook you a chicken breast, the air fryer could roast, bake, and air-crisp practically everything in your house, including the furniture.

The question now is what follows the air fryer? I’m thinking of the mind cooker, where you think of food and it appears on your lap.

The foot spa

There used to be an official side law in the Irish Constitution that read: “Article 2.4.5: No Irish citizen shall buy a foot spa for themselves with their own monies. A foot spa, electrically operated or otherwise, shall only be given as a present to another citizen where the giver has either (a) regifted it, or (b) has no idea whatsoever what to buy the person to whom they are gifting it. The foot spa can be regifted to another citizen as long as the cardboard box doesn’t show signs of wear and tear and the manufacturer hasn’t gone out of business.”

It promised to bring a little bit of the professional spa experience into your own sitting room, but generally brought fear of mild electrocution instead. It was that gift that you opened and thought secretly, “I’m never going to use this”.

The concept was good. Who wouldn’t want nice warm bubbles gently massaging their feet? The reality, however, was a series of whys. Why would I bother just washing my feet? Why would they give this to me — I’m not in my 80s? Why are they always a vomit-inducing colour? Why are the people on the box always wearing white robes? Who keeps immaculate white robes in their house? And one massive “have” question that would linger in your paranoid mind forever: Have they used it?

Its fatal flaw, of course, was that you had to clean it. Nothing says luxury like cleaning the gunk from your feet out of hard-moulded plastic for 40 minutes.

So, instead of fobbing off this icon of the ’80s, we now buy (another drum roll, please) massage guns. There isn’t a hoka-wearing, Hyrox-sling-vested human on the planet who hasn’t ordered and bought one of these bad boys lately. Don’t blush; I bought one too, and yes, it’s covered in dust.

And finally, whatever did happen to potpourri? Well, nobody killed our dried-up purple friends (there goes the podcast). We just found more complicated and expensive ways to make houses smell nice. Scented candles, reed diffusers, and automatic sprays.

That’s what happens to all these things. We never stop wanting what they promised us; we just get sold a newer version. The George Foreman grill became the air fryer. The foot spa became the massage gun. Potpourri became the reed diffuser.

So, enjoy the future while you can. The attic always wins in the end.