Tuesday, May 06, 2008
I collect old aprons - the really old, beat-up, left outside to rot aprons. Usually these can be found in the scrap piles at flea markets, but every once in a while, you come across one that someone else thought was pretty special and you get charged way more than you'd pay for a brand new, pristine apron. Take this old brown apron that Molly and I found in London. As soon as Molly tried it on she actually channeled the original owner. All of a sudden, Molly knew the French butcher who was up at 3am everyday, down at the farm feeding his pigs and then making his way over to his old shop in the center of town. The apron just fit. That's what good, old aprons do - they fit right, the fibers are worn in in all the right places.
Posted by Kaari Marie