Resurrecting the Apron

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I got a new apron for mother’s day and I feel rather empowered when I wear it. Aprons have gotten a bad rap; they have turned into the epitome of stereotypes but I’m not ashamed to admit it: I love mine. It’s beautiful, and when it hugs my waist I feel wonderfully domestic. It makes doing dishes and vacuuming just loads of fun because I can be wearing the rattiest t-shirt and my ugly-why-haven’t-I-taken-these-to-Goodwill-yet jeans, but when I put on my apron I feel pretty, oh so pretty. So I’m not going to apologize for wearing one.

Look, I don’t want to turn back the hands of time. I don’t want to drag us all back to the 1950’s, but aren’t there some things worth preserving? Like the trusty, humble apron? And can I wear my apron and high heels and a string of pearls, all at the same time if I want to, without wearing the label that comes with that ensemble? And in my apron, if I want to cook something really vintage like pot roast and mashed potatoes dripping, dripping, in butter and saturated fat, can I? Please oh please oh please, can I?

Have I been reduced to a stereotype yet? Are any readers making assumptions about my political views? It’s only normal I suppose because we’ve all done it—pigeonholed someone based on the silliest thing. We’re only human. And it’s only an apron I’m talking about. And be ye liberal, conservative, atheist, Christian, male, or female, we’re all prone to ruin a shirt by dribbling wine down the front of it. Unless, of course, you’re wearing an apron.

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