I was wandering around cyberspace recently, in a bit of a dreamy daze, when I read a sentence that bought me up short. And then I had to sort of wander away nonchalantly, whistling and pretending...
It said something like,
'Do you remember the days when Mummy blogs were good, before they got lazy and just became product reviews and giveaways?'
You see the reason I felt a bit sheepish was because of that photo above. And the one below. Because at the very moment that I read the sentence, I was in possession (lawful) of the photographed freebie. A freebie I really liked and wanted to tell you about. But then I read the sentence and the panic set in, am I lowering my standards by telling you about the cool thing I was sent? Have I become lazy? At this very minute are my arteries furring up with congealed, solidified badness making me a good-for-nothing, couch potato of a blogger?
No, I don't think so either.
So now we've established that I am not lazy, shall I tell you about it?
It's an apron. A Flirty Apron.
Oh no, don't go. Look, I know, like you know, that aprons are tools of male domination. They are shackles from the 1950's, a cynical invention, an attempt to keep us subservient in the kitchen. I know all of that, but I also know that when you need to wipe a smudge of Valentine's Chocolate Pudding of Love from your hand, well, an apron is a good thing. And especially this apron.
For a start they come in loads of different designs. I read the kind email offering me to choose any apron my heart desired, then clicked to their site. My daughter came to help as I dithered; there were so many pretty aprons. I was tempted by the cupcake one, but my daughter curled her lip in disgust and shook her head. She didn't quite say, 'act your age Mum', but I reckon she was thinking it. She sensibly took charge and picked out the sophisticated black and white one.
With a wave of their magic American wand, the good folk at Flirty Aprons sent the apron to me. (They do ship to us European mortals, another plus point).
It's fab. Not heavy and serious like the chef apron I once bought, but gay! light! fun! It has a cutesy frill and really long straps that wrap around twice and are tied in a chic bow on the side. Those straps are kind to the fuller figure, they don't pull you in half at your lardiest bit, a key selling point I feel.
And it's a bit like a fashion accessory. When you arrive frazzled in the kitchen to start cooking, still filthy from your mountain biking in the woods, you can pull on your little item of prettiness and look like you dressed for dinner. Kind of.
I have bought quite a few aprons in the past. They have all, er, disappeared. But for my flirty apron, I even put a hook on the wall for it, and I wear it often.
I do only have one tiny moan about Flirty Aprons, and it's not the product. It's one photo on the site that annoys the hell out of me. It shows a woman wearing MY apron, smiling happily to camera, chopping a carrot in her kitchen. That's fine. Normal kitchen behaviour, usually carried out by the female (pause whilst I gnash my teeth).
However, behind the woman is a man. He's not doing anything except lounging against the kitchen counter. Is it me or does he look a little proprietary? Is that a key he's got in his pocket? To the ball and chain that's attached to her ankle? Why isn't he doing anything? Why is he simply standing there whilst she does the work? Why isn't he wearing one of the men's aprons and doing a bit of chopping, or whipping up a souffle, or just making a cuppa? Is that too much to ask?
Does being the main wage earner really excuse him from picking up his socks, putting on the odd load of washing and bathing a few children?
Does he really think that one afternoon of DIY gives him dispensation from daily housework drudgery for the next month?
Am I a bit hormonal, or does that photo reinforce the gender stereotypes, just a weensy bit?
Ahem. Anyway, back to the point.
These aprons are lovely. You should all buy one, and also buy one for your Mum and your daughter and definitely your Mother-in-law. You probably don't need to buy one for your husband, because really, how much use will he get from it?
Thank-you flirty aprons, I love your product, and when it comes to the next photo shoot, ditch that bloke in the background.
My photos are really not doing my apron justice. But my wild flowers look cute, don't they?