This document is about the history and cultural significance of aprons in America as told through personal stories and memories. It discusses how: 1) Aprons trigger fond memories of homemakers from people's pasts and the traditions they upheld for their families. 2) Aprons have a long history dating back to many early cultures and were an important part of women's wardrobes throughout American history, taking on different meanings and styles over time. 3) Collecting and sharing apron stories has led the author on a journey across the country to learn about the lives of women throughout history as represented by this simple domestic symbol.

1. FA B R I C S O F A M E R I C A N L I F E
An apron memory isn’t a scholarly dissertation
mired in dusty facts and details. It is a story of fam-
ily life, a personal history that engages and catches
you up in the telling and listening.
The Apron Chronicles
EllynAnne Geisel
D
o you remember where you were when blissfully lived my girlhood dream. For 24 years
you heard that Harriet Nelson had I happily performed the domestic routines of
died? Probably not, but I do, because old-fashioned housewifery and childrearing.
Harriet Nelson was my idol growing up. She But for all the joys of this domestic bliss, my
was everything I wanted to be—a wife, mother career choice as a full-time homemaker came to
and homemaker. Watching The Adventures of an end with the departure of our youngest for
Ozzie and Harriet every week on television, I college. With his leave-taking, I dared imagine
reverently noted Harriet’s clever way with her a second career as a writer. My first article, I
husband and sons, how she dressed up each day decided, would be about the ultimate symbol
to stay at home taking care of her family. I loved of domesticity: the humble apron.
how they worshipped her. And, most of all, I I visited several thrift stores before finding
coveted her apron. an inspirational apron in decent condition, its
My own mother was an enigma in our clas- skirt of sunny yellow cotton with a wide peri-
sically Fifties neighborhood. Long before it was winkle-blue waistband, and four evenly spaced
the norm, she had a college degree, worked full narrow bands of colored bias tape. I didn’t real-
time and raised a family. She enjoyed her career ize it at the time, but, for only 25 cents, this
and was successful. But the job I wanted was apron would change my life.
Harriet’s. So in 1966, I entered the University Following a thorough laundering, it was
of Southern Hospitality with the goal of acquir- while pressing the apron I experienced a surge of
ing my “Mrs.” degree. A tad sidetracked by boys emotion of such visceral intensity that I initially
in bell-bottoms and rock-and-roll, I nonetheless thought I’d been electrocuted by the iron. Tying
remained vigilant in pursuit of my girlhood on the apron intensified a sense of spiritual con-
goal of marrying my Ozzie and becoming a nection to the homemaker who had selected the
full-time homemaker and mother. Exchanging cloth, sewed the pattern and worn the apron as
vows in 1975 and soon after twice a mother, I a part of her daily routine. I was replicating her
actions, and in doing so, I sensed her trying to
EllynAnne Geisel is the empress of apronology get through to me, to make me hear her voice.
to a worldwide community of apronistas (www. Fingering the fabric, I wondered what she might
apronmemories.com). be trying to tell me, what she had been like, what
60 The AmericAn inTeresT

2. Hand-sewn tafetta
we might have had in common. Whether
holiday apron
she’d been happily married; if her children
had driven her to distraction; if she had
preferred dogs or cats; and what had
been her favorite holiday, friend,
book, recipe, laundry
tip or beauty secret.
I wondered whether
her family still main-
tained the rituals she
had performed for her
family’s comfort and
security, or whether
in today’s hectic home
life her ways are deemed
obsolete.
I queried fifty friends and
family about whether they won-
dered the same things. My request complicated times, a scent, a hug, a confidence,
prompted a shockingly scant response, and sev- the nurturing love between mother and child.
eral of an unanticipated personal critique that The first apron I ever acquired through the
amounted to: “You have too much time on your mail was from New Mexico, a hand-sewn taf-
hands.” Did I? I had been so deeply affected by feta holiday apron wrapped in pink tissue. In an
an apron, and why was no one else? accompanying letter, the sender wrote that she
Perhaps, I thought, the apron I had chosen was a neighbor to the apron’s seamstress, a Mrs.
was invested with transcendent qualities. Per- Dyer, who had died several years before. She’d
haps it was one of very few, or the only apron in heard through the grapevine that I “took in
the world, capable of affecting me so powerfully. aprons.” She asked that I add Mrs. Dyer’s apron
To test this hypothesis, I did the obvious thing: to my collection because no one from the family
I returned to the thrift stores with an old woven was alive to inherit it. I’d never been a guardian
laundry basket that soon overflowed with all of anything before, and suddenly I was charged
the various aprons I collected. I disconfirmed with the care of an heirloom and the memory of
my hypothesis: All the aprons were magical. the woman who had worn it. Other aprons soon
For the next four years, I toted that laundry arrived in like manner, with stories of their own.
basket everywhere I went: the bank, grocery, li- As my collection grew, I felt a responsibility to
brary, hardware store, movie theatre, ballpark, learn about the history of this quotidian icon.
concert, ladies’ restroom line and homes to
which we were invited. Even when vacationing,
I toted a smaller basket of aprons. The colorful-
ly arrayed basket proved a magnet. Upon see-
I t turns out that the history of the apron goes
back quite a ways. Lore has it that Adam
and Eve fashioned the first kind of apron out
ing and touching the aprons, men and women of fig leaves, according to the third chapter
alike would enthusiastically share recollections of Genesis, to hide their nakedness from one
of homemakers in their lives. The aprons served another. However aprons came to be, almost
as memory triggers, sparking heartfelt stories of every culture, as it turns out, has something
a long-ago relationship with a beloved mother, resembling one. Many Indian tribes fabricat-
grandmother or aunt—a guardian of the hearth ed similar garments, which were worn by men
who tied on an apron as domestic armor to care, as well as women. Immigrants brought aprons
cook, nurture, manage and sacrifice for her to America; they were a key part of a sensible
family. The aprons called them back to special woman’s wardrobe. Early American women
cakes baked for birthdays, ironing tips, dough had only a few dresses, and aprons—almost
recipes, values and traditions from gentler, less ankle-length and of rugged cloth—allowed
spring (mArch/April) 2011 61

3. FABRICS OF AMERICAN LIFE
continued to make aprons and display their
handiwork on whatever cloth was available,
whether muslin, feed sack or recycled. By the
1940s, aprons and dresses were tighter fitting
to conserve fabric, which reflected women’s
support for the war effort and their commit-
ment to “Make Do Without.” The postwar
era was a time of abundance, and so aprons
received upgrades in vibrant, bold colors. New
household appliances gave the homemaker
something previously unknown: free time.
This let women sew as never before, with
aprons often being the zenith of their avenues
for creative expression. Also, for the first time,
men donned aprons specific to their newfound
past-time: backyard barbequing.
With the women’s liberation movement of
the 1960s, however, untold thousands of Ameri-
can women cast off their aprons and entered
the workforce, seeking fulfillment outside the
home. Liberated from ties now redefined to be
for those dresses to be worn many times be- suffocating instead of nurturing, some women
tween launderings. went so far as to throw away their aprons. In that
For female pioneers in the 1800s, rugged gesture of freedom from the past, these women
and stalwart by necessity, aprons remained a unknowingly did away with a symbol that tied
wardrobe mainstay. Homesteading alongside us to the women of preceding generations, and
men, they tucked their dresses and aprons into to each other.
waistbands as they cleared and plowed fields. Many aprons went undetected, however,
Then, unfurling both, they used aprons to and thus managed to survive the feminist
carry grain to chickens and vegetables from the purge. These were often discovered decades
garden, gather eggs, shoo flies from the table, later by other women, usually adult daughters,
remove a pan of biscuits from the oven, dry a nieces or younger cousins who sifted through
child’s tears, wipe sweat from their brows and their elders’ possessions in childhood homes.
flour from their hands. Aprons could also ward And with the same abandon and negative as-
off a chill, or even conceal a rifle. sociation of the women of the Sixties, these
The women who didn’t board a Calis- women very frequently stuffed those aprons
toga wagon, but stayed put,
mainly wore the protective, An apron that was purged
all-purpose apron of a domes- during the feminist era
tic, nurse, factory laborer or
seamstress. The well-heeled
among them sported aprons
as a stylish clothing accessory,
often embellished as a domestic
art in tiny, immaculate embroidery
stitches, delicate crochet and other
needlecrafts, which testified to
their feminine skills.
During the Depression years
delicate cotton was scarce or
unaffordable, but women
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4. THE APRON CHRONICLES
John Lester Trezise’s family in 1905. The little girl is Jeannette Evelyn, the “apron baby.”
into giveaway bags. Those are the aprons that In 1899 my father was six years old, and his
today show up in thrift stores, to be rescued as mother was pregnant with her sixth child.
priceless keepsakes intrinsic to the history of My grandmother went into labor at home
women and vehicles of feminine expression. on their farm. The five children were sent
To me, aprons celebrate the spirit of women. across the field to stay at the neighbor’s. As
They are oracles of simple truths of home and they crossed the field, the neighbor lady was
heart. That’s why it’s more than a pleasure to coming to their house to be the midwife for
“tie one on”; it’s a statement. their pregnant mother. As she walked past
the children, she had her arms wrapped in
I n the decade since I became a textile guardian
of these touchstones of earlier generations, I
have listened to and read hundreds of stories. I
her kitchen apron.
When the six-year-old, my father, re-
turned home later in the day, he had a brand
have learned that an apron memory isn’t a schol- new baby sister. And he was forever convinced
arly dissertation mired in dusty facts and details. that the baby was brought to their home in
It is a story of family life, a personal history that the apron of the neighbor lady.
engages and catches you up in the telling and
the listening. Without the stories, aprons are Junior high school during the 1950s re-
just so much fabric. It’s the memories they evoke quired girls to take a home economics class,
that make them so powerful. Three examples in and the first sewing project was always an
particular come to mind. apron. Bennie Swanson was one of the first
With the publication in 2006 of The Apron 46 people to come upon me and my basket
Book, many readers were moved to share their of aprons, and hers is one of the apron stories
apron memories with me. This story was typed that comprise my traveling exhibit, “Apron
on a postcard. It remains one of my favorites, Chronicles: A Patchwork of American Recol-
for the precious innocence of a child at the lections.” Our paths crossed in 2002, the year
turn of the century. La Veta Trezise, who to- her mother, Neva Carrico, died. Bennie’s sad-
day is 91 and still lives independently in her ness was still fresh, and she told me that she
own home, says her father, John Lester Trezise, and her mom “…will always be connected by
loved to tell this story. loving apron strings.”
spring (mArch/April) 2011 63

5. THE APRON CHRONICLES
When Dad died at 38, Mother had
to raise four young daughters by
herself. She kept our family go-
ing by working in a bakery,
scrubbing floors and cases.
After a long day, she’d re-
turn home and still have
the energy to run the
house, sew our clothes
and sing. Her favor-
ite song was “Sunny
side of the Street.”
If she had fears, we
never knew them,
because she al-
ways had a song
to brighten a cloudy
day. Even when she was
diagnosed with Parkinson’s,
she kept looking at the bright side Bennie Swanson’s 1959 home economics
of things. Asked how she was doing, she project—a gingham apron
always smiled and said, “I can’t complain.”
As I was going through her things, I spot-
ted a familiar fabric in the back of a kitchen my gift was a little pink apron trimmed in
drawer. It was the apron I’d made in seventh white rickrack. I loved it and showed it to
grade home-ec class back in 1959. Such won- everyone. It meant so much to me, I wore it
derful memories are woven into the lavender until it was falling apart.
checked cloth: going to Duckwall’s together to That little apron was such a sacrifice for
purchase the fabric, my excitement at learning my parents. I can’t imagine what they did
to sew, the thrill of presenting the completed without so I might not be disappointed on
apron to her, how special I felt when she wore Christmas morning.
it to fix dinner, and most of all, her uncon- It was my best Christmas present ever.
ditional love and how her face lit up when I
walked into the room. I miss my mom.
Mrs. Martha Marie Pugh wrote her story
W hen I look back at all the projects I’ve
begun and abandoned over the past
half century, I have to wonder why I perse-
in elegant cursive. When I mentioned her ex- vere on this apron journey. The answer is, I’ve
quisite handwriting to Drucilla, Mrs. Pugh’s decided, that I could spend a lifetime travel-
daughter-in-law, she said such grace was ex- ing this great country with a laundry basket
traordinary, given the tremendous starkness of vintage aprons and collecting the most in-
of her mother-in-law’s young life in Pawnee, teresting stories told by the dearest people—
Oklahoma. Even more exceptional is that all through the conduit of an old-fashioned,
from such a hardscrabble world, Martha Ma- nearly forgotten domestic icon. That such
rie Barnes would later travel the world, visit a mundane object can conjure such distant
England and be presented to the Queen. memories, evoke such strong emotions and
prompt so many new friendships, all celebrat-
I was born in 1931, during the Great Depres- ing the lives of women past and present, never
sion. Santa did not show up at our house with ceases to amaze me. This journey provides me
a big bag of gifts; my parents, however, did endless inspiration. Wherever it leads, I know
see that we got at least one gift. I will always hear a new voice, for aprons don’t
The Christmas when I was 4 years old, hold us back, they take us back.
spring (mArch/April) 2011 65