Donning My Apron
I love my apron. It's part security blanket, part power suit in the kitchen. Purchased at the Anthropologie store in Towson quite a few years ago, it's seen many a success and failure in the kitchen. The colors used to be more saturated. A dark barn red and gold separated by white stripes. It now looks sun-kissed and weather-beaten. Vintage, maybe.
It has endless function, from holding gathered vegetables from the garden to designated wiper of coffee grinds from the demitasse spoon. I almost feel naked if I don't put it on every night after work to prep for dinner. 'Say, who's that woman checking her mail in an apron?' That would be me.
Doubling for lap napkin and grease splatter guard, I wear it until every last dish is clean and the lights to the kitchen have been turned off. Then and only then do I untie and fold carefully, finally placing it back into its designated drawer.