My grandmother had quite a collection of aprons–full aprons and half aprons. Terry cloth aprons for everyday and frilly aprons for company. I personally own four aprons–a quilted one from my friend Judy, a flowered one that was a prize in a contest, an adorable rick-racked half apron my friend Delores made for me, and my favorite–the white, ruffled apron that belonged to my mother.
And yes, I do wear them from time to time.
These days, I think aprons tend to be for fun. They’re a sort of designer clothing item for the kitchen in gorgeous patterns and elaborate styles. But once upon a time aprons were entirely practical. When you didn’t have many clothes they kept the ones you did have clean. They served as wearable dish/hand towels. You could grab a handful of apron to take a hot pan from the oven. You could even wipe a child’s tears.
Sanitary? Probably not, but those were the days before leaving food out would kill us and when eating dirt was a rite of childhood. Germy aprons probably kept everyone’s immune system in tip-top shape.
Perla wears an apron in Miracle in a Dry Season. The cover of the novel shows her with an apron full of peaches. It’s a very, very plain apron, as it should be in West Virginia in 1954.
When a friend and early reader sent me a photo of herself wearing an apron with my book cradled in it, she gave me an idea: Go to my Facebook page and post a photo of yourself in an apron filled with fruit or anything else you want to share and I’ll randomly select one entrant to win a signed copy of the novel along with an apron. You have until release day–August 5–to send your photo. Can’t wait to see you!