A good friend in college collected fish. Not real fish, but fish-themed paraphernalia. I once asked her how this came about, and she replied, with some measure of consternation, that she didn't even like fish all that much. But at one point, someone noticed she had a pair of fish-earrings, or a fish t-shirt, and suddenly everyone in her life starting giving her fish -- fish socks, fish stationery, the whole nine yards. She finally embraced the accidental collection and decided, you know what?, the world wants me to collect fish, so I might as well go all in.
I myself was never a collector. For a time, I collected baseball cards and Charlie's Angels cards, but those collections never defined me to the outside world. My interests were too tough to pin down, my passions too scattered. I read, and wrote stories, and I dabbled, poorly, in musical instrument-playing. But I never had a fish thing, true or imagined, literal or figurative.
Now, I have a thing. An apron-thing. (Have time? Read this moving apron-related piece.)
My friend Marni bought me an apron years ago, from Baltimore. It's crustacean-red and says: Don't Bother Me, I'm Crabby. It's now totally beat up and irreparably stained from repeated use, but that means I've loved it a good long time. In 2007, my friend Stacy gave me an orange, polka-dotted apron to match my newly-painted orange kitchen. When I wear it, I blend into the decor. You can hardly see me.
For Mother's Day last year, Colin and the boys got me 2 vintage-style aprons from Sur La Table. I'd seen them in the catalogue, knew I wanted them, and knew I'd have to speak up to actually get them. So I ripped out the page and circled the aprons with a Sharpie. I may have even written, "BUY ME THESE." And they did.
Then, a month ago, a new friend, Maria, gave me my third Sur La Table apron, the one pictured above. She had no idea I already loved the style and owned two. This thing? It suddenly had legs.
My regular wardrobe, and even my dress-up clothes, pale in comparison to these aprons. Should I ever win an Oscar, I'll have Valentino (Ralph Lauren? Donatella Versace? I have no idea... who's good? Nina Ricci? help me) design my gown with these aprons as inspiration. Or I'll just wear an actual apron with super-cute shoes.
That picture up there was an accident; the wind whipped from behind while I was photographing scones, and the apron blew into the frame. I put it up on Facebook, and people all complimented the apron. So I picked up the phone and called Sur La Table headquarters in Seattle, and I explained how I needed new aprons for you, and they basically said, "Okay. We're in."
To win one (they'll give three total), leave a comment below explaining why you need an Apron Upgrade. Your comment must be 140 characters or less. If you want, you can also upload a photo of your old, ratty, stained, embarrassing apron/s to Pinterest (leave your pinterest username below so I can authorize you to pin on my board) or Flickr, where I've set up an apron upgrade group. Or you can tweet with the hashtag #ApronUpgrade and include a photo, or not. Honestly, you don't have to do all of these things; I have no interest in setting up hoops for you to jump through. Have fun, and pick the method that works for you based on whatever platforms you normally use anyway.
My goal is simply to flood the internet with pictures and descriptions of hideously ugly aprons.
Contest closes February 8th, with three winners announced soon thereafter.
Long live the apron.
{{UPDATE 2.9.12 PLEASE NOTE: THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED. THREE WINNERS WILL BE ANNOUNCED SHORTLY.}}
