RETRO APRONS Domestic divas celebrate style

Feminine aprons are now more popular than utilitarian ones, a retailer says.
KNIGHT RIDDER NEWSPAPERS
June Cleaver wore one. So did Marion Cunningham, Lucy Ricardo and Edith Bunker.
We're talking about aprons, of course. Neat, frilly little squares of cloth cinched at the waist, aprons were a symbol of domesticity in their heyday. Never mind that 1940s and '50s TV moms rarely got a speck of food on their aprons.
Back in the kitchen, real-life moms were doing the real work. They knew how to sling the hash, and their everyday aprons showed the spatters and splotches. Enter the hostess apron, or in the case of the mom who was multitasking before her time, the reversible apron. Simply turn the soiled apron around to reveal a fancier version perfect for entertaining.
By the '70s, women were eager to cut the apron strings and wear the pants -- which were available in a variety of wash 'n' wear fabrics. It's easy to blame feminism for the near obliteration of this cultural icon, but even aprons appear to be part of fashion's spin cycle.
Today the aprons our moms and grandmoms wore are considered retro chic. Glimpses of them have been seen in the pages of Country Living magazine, on the Food Network and even on New York fashion runways. Cruise the Internet, and you'll find more than 1,000 aprons available for sale on eBay. At vintageretroaprons.com, collectors can read up on apron history, and at oldpatterns.com/aprons.html, they can dig up discontinued Simplicity patterns for aprons.
Fashion trend
Aprons have long been utilitarian. Blacksmiths, carpenters, masons and fishermen have worn them for protection and to carry tools. Cooks, maids, nannies, nurses and farm wives wore aprons to keep their clothes clean while they worked. But with dish towels and jeans taking on that role, more feminine styles are making a comeback.
"I'm selling more feminine aprons versus more sturdy, barbecue-style aprons," says Louise Meyers, owner of Pryde's Old Westport, an upscale cooking and housewares store. "They're more for entertaining, but they're washable."
Among the best sellers is a French maid-style apron by Flounce that features new fabrics with retro designs. Meyers also sells novelty aprons, such as a faux fur apron that looks like mink made by Manual Woodworkers and Weavers.
For Meyers, wearing an apron is second nature. She wears long, utilitarian aprons at work and switches to a half apron with big pockets for cooking dinner at home. "Some people are very sensitive and think it domesticates them. But for me, I just feel more domestic in an apron," she says. "I think it's a wonderful thing."
City slickers aren't the only ones rediscovering the joys of wearing an apron. Aprons are also making a nostalgic comeback in the rural communities of Kansas, home of apron-wearing Auntie Em.
"I don't know that people are really wearing them," says Pat Vining of Richmond, Kan., "but they're fun to talk about."
What they represent
A farm wife with a penchant for history, Vining doesn't wear an apron often, nor does she collect them. Yet she is fascinated by what they represent. Recently she hosted a lecture at an Ottawa, Kan., church titled "Every Apron Has a Story," and nearly 40 women showed up, treasured aprons from their families' pasts in hand.
There were crisply starched white Harvey Girl aprons, crocheted aprons, convertible aprons that double as a bonnet, a novelty apron for a man and an apron made out of disposable paper napkins that can be ripped off when soiled at the holiday party to reveal another layer.
There were aprons made out of dish towels, feed sacks, chiffon and tulle. They were decorated with rickrack, lace and embroidery. Some were handmade, others machine-made.
"Aprons were worn for real housework. Whatever that is!" Vining wisecracks.
For historical context, Vining relies on a copy of "Aprons: Icons of the American Home" (Running Press) by Joyce Cheney -- a coffee-table book with images from a traveling exhibit. But, in truth, experts are really not necessary: "I'm sure the aprons in here," she says pointing to the book, "aren't any more interesting than the ones you brought here today."
Made by hand
Indeed, a 99-year-old woman shows off the apron she made in home economics class back in 1920. Another elderly woman stands to model her gingham apron and matching dust cap, both made in 1930.
"They get into it. They get up and get nostalgic about it," Vining says later.
"Almost everyone can go to a dresser or trunk and pull out an apron that their mother, grandmother or Aunt Lizzie made."
Of course, Vining says, "most women on farms didn't look like June Cleaver with a beautiful apron just off the ironing board. They wore an everyday apron and might have one nice one for Sunday or the holidays that they bought at a dime store or were given for a gift."
Until recently, many daughters have not been interested in their moms' or grandmoms' aprons, unlike the dishes, recipes or butter churn they hope to inherit. But, "Mom or Grandma may have bought the dish at the dime store. But the apron was almost sure to be something she made."
Vining recalls the first apron she ever made. It was fashioned from feed sack cloth in 4-H when she was 10 years old.
"It was a bib apron with a border across the top. I'd give anything if I still had it," she says.