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Thursday, 22 August 2013

I confess; I'm an apron wearer.

Yep, it's time to be upfront. I'm an apron wearer, have been for a gazillion years.  I know it's an old- fashioned thing to do, but hey, there's lots of closet apron wearers hiding in their kitchens in fear of being outed.


The first one, which I wore for a long time, was plastic coated. Yick, the thought nauseates me!  Why did I persist? That wasn't an apron.  It didn't do what aprons do ... wipe flour encased hands, morph into a pot holder, transport a collection of goodies from pantry to kitchen bench, get REALLY gunky and blotched by the love of cooking a family meal.  Sure, it protected my clothing, but it had no soul.  It was plastic for goodness sake!



But, at last, on a return trip from a family funeral, my sister-in-law and I chanced upon the TRUE apron and then my world changed.  I saw the light; I realised a REAL apron was made of fabric, was colourful, was a thing of beauty.  It was soft and comfortable.

I could make this.  This was simple sewing.  I could change the world!  Everyone should don an apron.  And so my crusade began.  Rid the world of plastic substitutes; rid the world of clothes ruined by stains and marks of family meal cooking. Have everyone wear an apron. A real, true apron. Bring back apron love!

That first real apron is now a little sad and greying, but it still holds a vital position in the apron retinue in my kitchen.
My first REAL apron.
Soon my friends began to feed my obsession  They brought baguette bags and fabric home from France: "Libby will make that into an apron". And she did ...
My baguette bag apron.
But the revolution was about to spread to their lives as well.

I began to randomly gift aprons to unsuspecting friends and family ... sister-in-law, sister, nieces, nephew's wife, brother, brother's sisters-in-law, niece's then-boyfriend now-husband.  Friends would arrive at work to find an apron resting on the back of their chair ... Libby's been here. Packages would quietly arrive in the post across all corners of the nation ... Cairns, Leopold, Brisbane, Melbourne, Ballarat, Gold Coast.
Arrived in Ballarat, Victoria.
Whether out of desire or not, they were going to own, and hopefully wear, an apron.

My pineapple-loving friend, Linda began to feel sorry for me.  SHE made ME an apron.  "You keep giving them to everyone.  Why shouldn't I make one for you?"
My lovely Linda-made apron.
So, I made her yet another one back ... with pineapples, of course.
Linda's pineapple apron.
It's amazing how a tropical shirt from Lowes can be transformed.

A desperate text beeped from my friend Lyn.  "Could I please have one of your aprons?"  A volunteer recruit for the revolution! I was ecstatic. Said apron was duly dispatched.  Friends bought my aprons as gifts for friends for Christmas, birthdays or just to say, "I love you girlfriend".  Apron love was spreading.

And so the revolution continues.

Join the revolution. Don an apron. Share apron love with your most precious friends and family.  Help get the soul back into kitchens.  Promote the crusade and wear your aprons (You'll need more than one!) proudly and defiantly!

Have you joined the revolution yet?