Food network star Guy Fieri admits, “I’ve never been an apron fan; it’s all too cumbersome to me.’
The Longenecker men didn’t wear aprons. To his credit, my dad did dry dishes but only on Sundays, and without an apron.
Beaman Men in Three Generations have worn aprons. Here’s proof: Curtis operating the mixer, husband Cliff making tuna salad, and his father Lee preparing gravy for Thanksgiving dinner.
Longenecker Women in more than three generations have worn Aprons. My sisters and I wear aprons handmade by Grandma.
The Next Generation – Gender doesn’t matter to me. Actually, yes, it does. Boys as well as girls can wear aprons on kitchen duty. I must admit, however, Curtis may need something less frilly. Denim perhaps.
Aprons appear in my memoir manuscript: some snippets here
Grandma must have spotted us coming down over the hill because we saw her leaving the garden with a pile of green beans cradled in her cotton apron. By the time we rushed in the back door, Grandma with a huff of her breath wiped off sweaty spots from her wire-rimmed glasses with her apron. It had a big bib on top and a skirt with a pocket to hold a hanky for wiping our tears, just in case. Grandma had a broad forehead, wide smile, big belly, and soft lap. We loved going to Grandma’s.
“Sit down a spell and catch your breath,” she invited as she transferred the beans she would snap soon from the lap of her apron into her speckled blue ceramic bowl.
It was a cool day, but the warm light of late afternoon cast a soft glow on the handle of Grandma’s stirring spoon. My cheeks were getting hot and Grandma wiped my face with her greeen-edged apron, her pocket bulging a little with a cotton handkerchief she had substituted for the mint tea sprigs she often brought in from her garden. I put the last square patch of dough into the bubbling broth just as Aunt Ruthie came in the back door from school with a yellow pencil over her ear.
I saw Grandma with her broad smile and navy blue and white feedbag apron, bunched up and twirled around her arms to keep away the chill. Skinny, black covering strings blew in the brisk breeze and then dangled from her large prayer covering. I never noticed until then that it had six big pleats in back.
Even now when I pull down cloves and nutmeg from the shelf, I can sense pinpricks of spicy warmth on my nostrils as Grandma stooped to lift twin pies out of the oven, one by one with her apron and hot pads.
I fled to the kitchen where my mother, her half-apron bow sagging, stood beside the sink crushing Saltines with her hands to make salmon casserole she would put into the oven before church tomorrow. We had just finished eating our Saturday night supper, the cook’s-night-off menu of Breyer’s 3-flavor ice cream, the box filled with creamy goodness served with Wege’s handmade pretzels along with Utz’ potato chips, a special treat.
In the nick of time, Mother opened our front door, a sunbeam twinkling from the greenish glass of the transom above, I noticed. Mom wore a terry-cloth cotton half apron printed with apple blossoms tied in a bow behind her waist. She always wore an apron, and she always wore a covering on her head. From morning till night, her prayer cap held tight.
The Many Uses of Aprons
Probably women in your heritage have worn aprons. Maybe you do too. I’m guessing none of the Real Housewives on reality shows today wear them though. Years ago, McCalls and Advance offered apron patterns for women to sew. Along with protecting the dress underneath from getting dirty, aprons wiped away perspiration, tears from fussy children, dusted furniture when unexpected company arrived and served as hiding places for shy kids. Read some more uses here.
I’m in need of a man apron. A very manly apron, says Mike D
Do real men wear aprons?
Who in your family wears or has worn an apron?
Apron stories or comments – all invited here – thank you!