Not so long ago, no woman ever ventured into a kitchen without reaching for an apron to tie around her waist. Wearing an apron was part of a housekeeping tradition passed down from mother to daughter, a tradition that endured for centuries. Indeed, immigrant women of nearly every ethnic background, including the Pilgrims, arrived in America wearing aprons.

To wear an apron was to signify that serious and important work was in progress – getting supper, frying doughnuts, baking bread, cleaning, tending children, dusting or doing laundry.

“I never begin cooking, cleaning or painting without wearing an apron,” said artist Kathy Salkaln of Bangor. “My aprons are friends [and] remind me of happy times.” Among her favorites are two Oyster Fest aprons, a Christ Church apron from her hometown of Oyster Bay, N.Y., a Virgin Islands apron and a Florida lighthouse apron.

Aprons, no matter what the century, came in two basic categories – utilitarian, the ones on which you wiped your hands; and “good,” the ones that were crocheted, embroidered or made of organdy, taffeta or some other “fussy” fabric, which were strictly for show. Women sometimes gave to one another as gifts fancy aprons to wear on festive occasions.

“My sister, Ellen, gave me a lobster apron for Christmas many years ago, and I always wore this apron in my classroom when my students would paint or cook,” Salkaln said. “My mother always wore aprons and never threw out the aprons I made her. Many of the aprons were edged in rickrack.”

The aprons mothers and grandmothers wore usually had pockets into which was tucked a pretty handkerchief, a few bobby pins, a safety pin, coins and maybe a grocery list hastily scribbled on the back of an old envelope.

Alex Turallo of Hampden remembers the “mother-daughter aprons” she and her grandmother wore in the 1950s. “They were made of tan gingham and decorated with bands of cross-stitch embroidery,” Turallo said. “My grandmother studied home economics, but she did not cook, clean, wash or sew, so she probably bought the aprons at a church fair.” Turallo, who teaches needlework at the Hammond Street Senior Center in Bangor, said class members are in the planning phase of making aprons to sell at the 27th annual Zonta Club craft fair planned for Nov. 12-13.

“When I was rearing my three children in the 1960s,” said Ellie Allen of Montville, “my mother-in-law would make me smocklike aprons that covered to just above the knees and protected the cotton shirts and shirtwaist dresses I wore. The best feature of these aprons were the kangaroo pockets that held all sorts of small toy parts, Tinker Toys, blocks and Matchbox cars that needed transporting to the toy box. I really loved these aprons. They came in plaid, striped, gingham checks and calico prints – in a variety of colors with contrasting bias bindings. I wish I still had the pattern.”

A good housewife changed her apron daily, which added a lot to Monday’s wash day load – done in a Blackstone or Maytag wringer washer. Later in the week she ironed those aprons. Often, the first item a young girl learned to iron was an apron and the first item she learned to sew on a sewing machine.

Some sixty- and seventysomething ladies never removed their aprons except on special occasions or when they went to bed at night.

“My grandmother Henderson wore a cover-up apron in the morning when she did the cooking and cleaning,” said Verla Lucas of Hampden. “After the [noontime] dinner, she would put on a good dress and a fancy apron. She never went without an apron.”

Aprons were purchased at local stores at church bazaars and from women who “took in” sewing, but women often made their own aprons.

In those days, having an apron handy in the kitchen was no different than having a spatula or a cast iron frying pan in the cupboard. It was simply one of the tools a kitchen was expected to have.

In 1956, Margaret Parker of Orrington was a 20-year-old bride living in a fifth-floor, walk-up apartment in the Bowery on 6th Street in New York City. She bought a strapless, plastic apron at Teitelbaum’s hardware store on the corner of 3rd Avenue.

“I saw this apron and I thought it was just the thing to impress any visitors who might climb all those stairs. Since we were both going to school full time at night and working full-time day jobs, there was precious little time to entertain. The apron was relegated to the bottom of the kitchen linens drawer.” The apron moved across the country twice and years later, Parker gave the apron to her daughter as “a quaint bit of family history.”

Women abandoned aprons during the feminist era of the 1960s and 1970s when they came to believe, erroneously, that aprons symbolized the subjugation of females. The fact that an apron was simply a kitchen tool, like a dishtowel or a mixing bowl, was forgotten in a headlong rush to abandon the kitchen in favor of the career. Aprons languished in drawers. Then they began to turn up at thrift shops. They were viewed as quaint, and collectors became interested in them.

“How to Make Aprons” by Roxa Wright was published in 1953. It contains instructions for more than 40 types of aprons. Patterns in the book reflect the nature of women’s work, which really hasn’t changed all that much. The book contains patterns for aprons to wear on wash day, for nursing, for baby bathing, for gathering vegetables from the garden, for carrying wood, for hair washing and vacuuming. There’s even a pattern for a mend-while-you-iron apron.

Other patterns in the book include an apron made from 1 yard of fabric, a shirttail apron made from an old shirt and a sportsman’s apron. Looking at the book is like taking a sociocultural tour of the 1940s and ’50s. The book is now out of print but may be available in public libraries.

Although aprons don’t seem to be making a comeback in kitchens, they are stirring interest among historians. They have been the subject of museum exhibits and several books, including “Aprons: Icons of the American Home” by Joyce Cheney. Check online, pubic libraries and bookstores for the availability of this charming book.

Even e-mail spam is weighing in on aprons. One missive, “Grandma’s Aprons,” lists ways that a grandmother used her apron – as a pot holder, for carrying eggs from the henhouse and apples from the orchard, wrapping it around her arms for warmth, as flag to alert farm hands that dinner was ready and as a last-ditch dust cloth when unexpected company appeared in the driveway.

Today, fashion designers such as Anna Wang are coming up with designs that “embrace domesticity on their own terms, combining domesticity and sex appeal,” according to a Wall Street Journal article by Melanie Trottman. Wang’s aprons, Trottman writes, resemble skirts and halter dresses more than the traditional spatter protection garment.

Those who want to make an apron will find McCall’s, Butterick and Simplicity patterns at local fabric stores and department stores.

Ardeana Hamlin may be reached at 990-8153, or e-mail ahamlin@bangordailynews.net.