What do you wear to work?

Bright, crisp cool days when even the air in my house feels sharp and days that are wet and dreary when the sky is pewter and the world is made of mush make me fluff my nest. I change the beds and sweep out from under the rugs.I scrub behind the toaster oven. I want to make my home tidy, warm and safe. I want something savory bubbling on the stove and something sweet toasting in the oven.

Yesterday I tidied all of the bookshelves and emptied two boxes of books left sitting since we moved last spring. I hung another picture--my cat. I baked spice cookies and made a big pot of chili the way my mother-in-law does. I made a batch of tortillas to dip in our steaming bowls.

It was a clear, cold day and my husband was home doing manly things like hammering and sawing. If this were a different type of blog I would tell how nice the evening can be when you let your husband do man things all day and then feed him his mother's chili.

I am slowly--very slowly--embracing the tasks I signed up for when I didn't go back to work after having my kids. I am facing the piles of dishes and laundry armed with the ideal that if a job must be done it must be done well. And doing a job well, instead of just trying to get it done so you can play with your kids or go online, makes the job itself more satisfying.

But I hate sweats and ratty t-shirts. I like shirts with buttons, or sweaters and dark, stiff jeans. I like to have something sparkling on, a neclace and earrings, that type of thing. I don't want to look like a drudge just because I have drudgery to do all day. A few weeks ago, in an effort to protect my clothes, I put on the apron that my grandma made me. It is big and fluffy and covered in flowers. It looks like it belongs on top of a gingham dress on the prairie. It would be a very charming halloween costume. In fact, it probably will be next year.

I put on the apron to protect my shirt and pants. Nothing more. And yet it was so nice. It has pockets for collecting tid bits that you pick up as you wander from room to room. You can keep little snippers in the pocket, or tape. It felt so remarkably natural to wear an apron that it has become a fairly regular part of my work uniform. I even caught myself getting the mail in my apron more than once. (Only a smidgen less embarrassing than getting the mail in my bathrobe.)

Work uniform. As soon as I put it in those terms I had to laugh. I had run my mind over the concept of Apron and thought perhaps fundamentalism runs deep, that my theology determines my clothes. Perhaps a bun and ankle length denim skirts were next. Not a horrible idea except that I don't like spending time styling hair.

But an apron is just my work uniform and has been for most of my working life. How could I have forgotten? I worked for a few years at print shop during college. I thought of myself as a copy machine jockey, though they had a business jargon term for the job. I kept box cutters and white out and tape and a note pad in my pockets and the apron kept my business casual wear safe from toner and ink.

After a few tries at slightly more professional work I found myself at a housewares store. I believe they had another business jargon term for my job which was really just retail serf.

I protected my retail casual work wardrobe (jeans, nonslip tennies and collar shirts) with an apron. I kept a box cutter and price cheat sheets and zip ties and tape and other truck in my pockets. It made my job easier in both cases to have big pockets to gather things in and supply my needs. It kept my clothes clean from dust and muck and of course the box cutting.

My big flowery Apron may not be the norm of SAHM wear. But it is nothing that I picked up by being conservative. It is one and a piece with my days as a working girl. The last shred of my days of independence where cleaning bathrooms was the least challenging of my daily tasks. The days when database speed, fearlessness of great heights, physical strength, algebra, and and eye for design (of a product display or a business card) were my valuable skills.

When I am not in the mood to clean and bake, when I just want to grow my kids, or shop, or play on the internet, it doesn't occur to me to wear an apron. I suppose that is because those things aren't work.

That silly apron (which the girls call beautiful) puts me in the right frame of mind to do work, and do it well.