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Aprons Quotes

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Aprons Quotes

“The kitchen is your natural setting as a woman and you should look beautiful, not bedraggled, in it. Whether you go to work or work at home- or both- take advantage of the opportunity the kitchen offers for expressing your wifely qualities in what you wear. Pinafores, organdies, and aprons look wonderful, as do gay cotton wrap-arounds that slip on over your dress while you make breakfast. Too much attention is paid to kitchen equipment and decor; too little to what is worn in this setting. Why look like Cinderella's crotchety stepmother when you can be a lyrical embodiment of all that a home and hearth means!”

FashionKitchenHousewifePersonal StyleApronsHomemakingAnne FogartyWife DressingHousewiferyFashion Advie
Book:Wife Dressing: The Fine Art of Being a Well-Dressed Wife
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“Professional chefs aren't the only ones who get to wear an apron to work. There are welders and farriers and fishmongers and printers and grocery clerks and artists and florists and bakers and housekeepers and lab technicians and carpenters, to name a few who call an apron their uniform, and lucky them. How nice to be able to shift gears from leisure to work and back again with the tug of an apron string.”

JobsCareersUniformsAprons
Book:The Apron Book: Making, Wearing, and Sharing a Bit of Cloth and Comfort
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“Mother's Apron There's a great old skit called "Mother's Apron" that touts the many household uses of the apron. This basic skit, with its infinite individual variations, has been performed by women's church and community clubs for generations. Below is a version remembered by Bernice Esau that was presented by her mother, probably originally in Low German, the common language of the rural Minnesota community where it was performed, hence the slightly lilting, old-fashioned sound to it: Do you remember Mother's aprons? Always big they were, and their uses were many. Besides the foremost purpose, the protection of the dress beneath, it was a holder for removal of hot pans from the oven. It was wonderful for drying children's tears and, yes, even for wiping small noses. From the henhouse it carried eggs, fuzzy chicks, ducklings, or goslings, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven. Its folds provided an ideal hiding place for shy children, and when guests lingered on chilly days, the apron was wrapped about Mother's arms. Innumerable times it wiped a perspiring brow bent over a hot wood-burning stove. Corncobs and wood kindlings came to the kitchen stove in that ample garment, as did fresh peas and string beans from the garden. Often they were podded and stemmed in the lap the apron covered. Windfall apples were gathered in it, and wildflowers. Chairs were hastily dusted with its corners when unexpected company was sighted. Waving it aloft was as good as a dinner bell to call the men from the field. Big they were, and useful. Now I wonder, will any modern-day apron provoke such sweet and homesick memories?”

MotherMemoriesAprons
Book:The Apron Book: Making, Wearing, and Sharing a Bit of Cloth and Comfort
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“Many authors write like amateur blacksmiths making their first horseshoe; the clank of the anvil, the stench of the scorched leather apron, the sparks and the cursing are palpable, and this appeals to those who rank "sincerity" very high. Nabokov is more like a master swordsmith making a fine blade; nothing is amiss, nothing is too much, there is no fuss, and the finished product must be handled with great care, or it will cut you badly.”

WritingFirstsCareToo MuchCuttingMastersProductsFineFinishedAppealsSparksSincerityBladesLeatherCursingAnvilsApronsBlacksmithsHorseshoes
Author:Robertson Davies
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“A black-crowned night heron stood on an apron of wet sand, looking across the channel. The feather plume at the back of his head lifted in a faint breeze. Out there the channel churned its cyclonic eddies counterclockwise. Schools of anchovies, halibut, and sea bass came and went: silver flashes, small storms that well up from the inside of the sea but are short-lived, like lightning.”

WellsSchoolNightBlackSeaOceanStormSandSilverWetFlashLightningBreezeFeathersBassShort LivedApronsHeronsHalibut
Book:A Match to the Heart: One Woman's Story of Being Struck By Lightning
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“There is no doubt of the essential nobility of that man who pours into life the honest vigor of his toil, over those who compose the feathery foam of fashion that sweeps along Broadway; who consider the insignia of honor to consist in wealth and indolence; and who, ignoring the family history, paint coats of arms to cover up the leather aprons of their grandfathers.”

MenWealthDoubtHonestFashionArmsHonorEssentialsLaborPaintNo DoubtGrandfatherCoatsToilBroadwayNobilityLeatherVigorFamily HistoryIndolenceCover UpsFoamApronsCoat Of Arms
Author:Edwin Hubbel Chapin
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“The diagnosis of drunkenness was that it was a disease for which the patient was in no way responsible, that it was created by existing saloons, and non-existing bright hearths, smiling wives, pretty caps and aprons. The cure was the patent nostrum of pledge-signing, a lying-made-easy invention, which like calomel, seldom had any permanent effect on the disease for which it was given, and never failed to produce another and a worse. Here the care created an epidemic of forgery, falsehood and perjury.”

WayMadeCareLyingGivenEasyWifeEffectsProduceDiseaseResponsiblePatientInventionCuresPermanentFalsehoodPledgeCapsDiagnosisEpidemicsDrunkennessSigningPatentsSaloonsPerjuryForgeryAprons
Author:Jane Swisshelm
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“There is no thing that with a twist of the imagination cannot be something else. Porpoises risen in a green sea, the wind at nightfall bending the rose- red grasses and you- in your apron hurrying to catch- say it seems to you to be your son. How ridiculous! You will pass up into a cloud and look back at me, not count the scribbling foolish that put wings at your heels, at your knees.”

LooksSeemsImaginationSeaSonWindRedGreenWingsRoseCloudsFoolishRidiculousGrassKneesHeelsTwistsRisenBendingYour SonHurryingNightfallApronsPorpoises
Author:William Carlos Williams
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“When I left Merle was wearing a bungalow apron and rolling pie crust. She came to the door wiping her hands on the apron and kissed me on the mouth and began to cry and ran back into the house, leaving the doorway empty [...] I had a funny feeling as I saw the house disappear, as though I had written a poem and it was very good and I had lost it and would never remember it again. (p. 262)”

FeelingsHandsRememberHouseLostLeftSawsWrittenDoorsCryMouthsEmptyLeavingVery GoodDisappearRanPieRollingDoorwaysAprons
Book:Stories and Early Novels
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“... I see the green earth covered with the works of man or with the ruins of men’s work. The pyramids weigh down the earth, the tower of Babel has pierced the sky, the lovely temples and the gray castles have fallen into ruins. But of all those things which hands have built, what hasn’t fallen nor ever will fall? Dear friends, throw away the trowel and mortarboard! Throw your masons’ aprons over your heads and lie down to build dreams! What are temples of stone and clay to the soul? Learn to build eternal mansions of dreams and visions!”

MenSoulDreamHandsEarthLyingFallVisionSkyEternalBuiltStonesGreenDearLovelyRuinsFallenTemplesCoveredGrayTowersClayCastlesPyramidsMansionsDear FriendMasonsGreen EarthBabelApronsTower Of Babel
Author:Selma Lagerlöf
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“She sits down and puts her hand to her chest and rocks. Thinks of all she has lost and will lose. All she has had and will have. It seems to her that life is like gathering berries into an apron with a hole. Why do we keep on? Because the berries are beautiful, and we must eat to survive. We catch what we can. We walk past what we lose for the promise of more, just ahead.”

ThinkingHandsSeemsPastBeautifulLife IsLostLosesWalksRocksPromiseDown AndHolesChestsGatheringLife Is LikeBerriesAprons
Book:Home Safe: A Novel
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“The conventional explanation for Jewish success, of course, is that Jews come from a literate, intellectual culture. They are famously "the people of the book." There is surely something to that. But it wasn't just the children of rabbis who went to law school. It was the children of garment workers. And their critical advantage in climbing the professional ladder wasn't the intellectual rigor you get from studying the Talmud. It was the practical intelligence and savvy you get from watching your father sell aprons on Hester Street.”

PeopleChildrenBookSchoolLawCultureCoursesFatherStudyStreetsIntellectualAdvantageSellsWorkersJewCriticalPracticalsExplanationClimbingConventionalLaddersGarmentsLaw SchoolRabbiSavvyRigorAprons
Book:Outliers: The Story of Success
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“Flowers are made to bloom in the sun and not to be shut up in an apron.”

MadeSunFlowerShut UpAprons
Book:Greatest Christmas Novels in One Volume: Life and Adventures of Santa Claus, Heidi, The Romance of a Christmas Card, The Little City of Hope, The Wonderful Life, Little Women, Anne of Green Gables, Little Lord Fauntleroy, Peter Pan…
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“The morning air was like a new dress. That made her feel the apron tied around her waist. She untied it and flung it on a low bush beside the road and walked on, picking flowers and making a bouquet… From now on until death she was going to have flower dust and springtime sprinkled over everything.”

FeelsMadeMorningAirFlowerLowsDressesDustTiedSpringtimeBouquetsApronsMorning AirPicking Flowers
Book:Their Eyes Were Watching God
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“Slowly he took out the clothes in which, ten years beforem Cosette had left Montfermeil; first the little dress, then the black scarf, then the great heavy child's shoes Cosette could still almost have worn, so small was her foot, then the vest of very thich fustian, then the knitted petticoat, the the apron with pockets, then the wool stockings.... Then his venerable white head fell on the bed, this old stoical heart broke, his face was swallowed up, so to speak, in Cosette's clothes, and anybody who had passed along the staircase at that moment would have heard irrepressible sobbing.”

YearsFirstsHeartChildrenLittlesStillsMomentsFacesLeftSpeakBlackWhiteHeardFeetBedTenClothesDressesShoesHeavyBrokePocketsThat MomentWornHeart BrokeWoolSobbingStockingsScarvesVestsStaircasesApronsIrrepressibleCosette
Author:Victor Hugo
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“I was a daughterless mother. I had nowhere to put the things a mother places on her daughter. The nail polish I used to paint our toenails hardened. Our favorite videos gathered dust. Her small apron was in a box in the attic. Her shoes - the sparkly ones, the leopard rain boots, the ballet slippers - stood in a corner.”

UsedMotherDaughterRainPaintShoesBoxesCornersVideoDustBalletBootsNailsPolishHardenedSlippersAtticsLeopardsApronsNail PolishToenails
Author:Ann Hood
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