Editor’s Note: Be sure to check out Ann’s beautiful blog: knitlibrarian.blog
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I was the luckiest of grandchildren. I lived across the street from my maternal grandparents and moved between our two homes with an easy flow. As a free ranging child of the 50s, my neighborhood friends and I were just as likely to be found resting in the cool shade of the pines on the west side of their lot, as playing kickball in the cinder alley on my side of the street or roller skating the concrete sidewalk ringing our block.
If Grandma was in the kitchen – baking oatmeal cookies, cooking supper, making Ribbli (a uniquely Swiss breakfast dish) – she always wore an apron.
Over the years, I have collected a half-dozen bib aprons but I tend to grab one only when I start a multiple recipe day of cooking and baking; an act that signifies, this is serious work. Among my friends, even those who declare themselves to be “foodistas”, I rarely, if ever, see any of them wearing an apron. This may be due to the sheer abundance of stain resistant clothing in our closets or that we came of age in the 70s when we were eager to cast off any connection to the apron clad images that were broadcast to our black-and-white 15-inch TVs. I am remembering comedic scenes with Ethel and Lucy in “I Love Lucy” or Aunt Bea on “The Andy Griffith Show”, when an apron was a standard costume accessory.
For over 50 years, Grandma’s well used half aprons were kept neatly washed, pressed and protected in tissue paper. Each sewn with fabric remnants and embellished with a bit of lace or a row of rickrack.
As Momma continues her shelf-by-shelf, drawer-by-drawer review of her household items, she felt it was time to share these vintage treasures. Granddaughters Barb, Rita, Sarah, Gina, Mary Pat, Rebecca, and I are now the keepers of these wonderful heirlooms.
Copyright © 2024 by Ann Hutton
Oh Ann – this piece brought back so many memories! How often does one mention ric rac these days? And I haven’t thought about the different feel of a full apron with the wide white straps versus the half apron with a simple waist tie. I’m so glad your Momma thought to distribute these treasures to you and others. Both the poem and the aprons are treasures!
Love the story! I too remember my mother and grandmother wearing aprons. Some were made from feed sacks that were from our chicken hatchery that my dad ran.
Aprons are a fascinating subject: domestic bliss or an object to burn in the fire of feminist fervor? The choice to nurture appeals to many, and it is a necessary and virtuous choice. Personal stories embedded in objects bring special scents and aromas to mind. ❤️ Thank you for drawing out this subject, a worthy and wonderful way to inspire dreams, memories and thought.