I was browsing through the amazing aprons at Tie One On. It's a site by the creator of Angry Chicken with the theme of making an apron every month. It's just simple genius. Not only do I love the kickass creative aprons but also adore that these aprons are being worn and not just hung out for display.
Once upon a time I had a green and white striped Williams Sonoma apron. It did nothing but hang in my kitchen in a sad attempt to fool people into thinking I could afford to shop at the store and actually knew what to do with an overpriced garlic press. But now that I'm a mom, I think I might need to start actually wearing one. Grandma knew. Where better to stash the gin then in an apron pocket! Everywhere I step in this house there is something that needs to be picked up and brought home to it's rightful place in the sink, toy box, makeup kit or tampon box. I need some big old apron pockets.
As I continued to look through the super cute aprons, I realized that indeed I would be needing not only some big old apron pockets but a big old apron. One of the Flickr posters showed off her retro-cute apron recycled from an Anthropologie dishtowel. A dishtowel! I might be able to recycle a dishtowel as a headband. Maybe a wrist band. But there is no way it would fit around my waist. I would look like I was wearing a loincloth for goodness sakes! But the more I browsed the more I heard Grandma whispering in my ear that nothing covers up a mommy tummy better than a little starch and some outwardly projecting cotton.
Another apron wearing hot mama had me a little jealous as I stared past her perfectly pressed apron and into her clean and updated kitchen. Sigh. Lately I'm finding myself longing for new construction. Yes, dare I say it a McMansion.
(Looking around to make sure husband isn't reading this over my shoulder)
Architect husband and I used to be of like minds. A kitchen with crooked plywood cabinetry and a random toilet plunked down amidst the washer and dryer was a small price to pay for oak molding as thick as a car bumper. But lately I've been thinking I might be persuaded to give up the lovely crystal doorknobs that came with our home for a clean white unsullied space. It's not that I don't adore our older 1920's home it's just that it takes a bit of cash to keep it looking pretty. When the paint starts chipping and I'm debating between Dutch Boy and a trip to Trader Joes - food for the family wins out. So lately she's been looking like a blond without lipstick. You know, "Could be pretty if she didn't look so tired".
But as I continued to browse the aprons I realized I was missing the point. These stunners were made from old men's shirts and rescued thrift store fabric. An apron reps the whole idea of creative homemaking ingenuity. By God I'm going to paint my fucking kitchen! Next paycheck. Ok, I'm not. Because there is no way I can paint and take care of a 1 year old and a 4 year old without involving a lot of duct tape and a visit from a social worker. But I might be able to make an apron after they go to bed. I mean, it's not like we NEED the bedspread right?