I am and always have been a huge fan of the apron. An apron says, “I am a maker of things.” An apron says, “I am working.” Put on an apron and you are automatically up to something good: welding, baking, pottery, painting, cooking, cobbling, carving, caning, canning, you name it. An apron speaks of industry and creativity…it says, “I am going to make a mess because I am creative, and yet I am thinking ahead and trying not to get this mess on my clothes.” I have always liked the idea of the person who walks around carrying an umbrella on the if-come of rain. I am not that person. I schlep usually under-dressed children around with me in the rain…not if-come umbrellas. But I like the idea that in wearing my apron I consummate that umbrella idea…because I have planned ahead. My clothes would-have been ruined…would-have been splattered…but they are not.
I have always worn aprons and I always seem to wear them even after the act is done…say, running to Walgreen’s after painting, for example. And I like that. I like going out into corporate same-same America wearing a paint-stained apron because it says, “I am a maker of things. I have just made something with my hands and kept my clothes clean at the same time. I am different from you. I am same-same-different.” Corporate same-same America needs crazy artist women to wear dirty, painted aprons because that makes life more textural and genuine. Corporate same-same needs more question marks and fewer periods. Wearing a painted apron in public is a subtle question mark. Something about something Japanese…sort of wabi-sabi- definitely zakka. But really I love the apron because of its utility…its poetry…its humility…and its fit. It has to fit right. My all-time favorite apron was a gift from my friends K + S. They went to Italy, to a Slow Food convention many years ago…and they brought me the perfect apron. Perfect heavy italian cotton and perfect pockets. It was printed with some drawings of food and even the Slow Food snail logo. I wore it ’til the wheels came off- ’til the bleach had burned holes in it. I said for years that it was my only possession that actually mattered to me.
We made this apron in class at my l.f.s. It is based on the No-Frills apron in the Sew Everything Workshop book by Diana Rupp. We made bias tape. I changed the pocket to this asymmetrical one…much more Kenzo this way. Remember Kenzo? It was fun and easy. I like it as much as my long-lost Slow Food apron. But possessions mean even less to me now, because now I have these lovely under-dressed children and the if-come of rain and so much making of things to do.
I’m loving the simple contrast in this apron, fabulous! Thanks for your lovely note, I’ve added you into my links as well 🙂 You have so many beautiful things here, looking forward to following along, xo kathy