Tugging at her apron strings

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 03/03/2018 (3012 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Emily Schimnowski, the Emily in Aprons by emilyrose, has little patience for those who spot her bright and cheerful garments at craft shows and farmers’ markets and remark aprons are a thing of the past, and that slipping one on is akin to declaring a woman’s place is in the home.

“I usually bite my tongue but what I’d like to say is, ‘Listen, I’m not some dedicated, little, ol’ housewife who heads into the kitchen the second she gets home, to start getting dinner on the table,’” says the mother of three and grandmother of eight. “I mean, I was one of the original hippies, hitchhiking to the legislature with my long, red hair and bandana to protest against the Vietnam War. So when people start preaching to me about women’s rights, I just want to laugh. I’m a huge supporter of women’s rights, but that includes my right to wear an apron.”

Schimnowski grew up in Brandon. She guesses she would have been about eight when she picked up a needle and thread for the first time, to fashion an outfit for Tex, her beloved, miniature wiener dog. OK, maybe Tex didn’t find his attire particularly fetching — Schimnowski recalls him nipping at her fingers, when she tried tugging it past his ears — but Schimnoski’s mother was impressed enough to buy her daughter a new sewing machine, a token of generosity that still chokes Schimnowski up, when she talks about it.

“It was a blue Zenith from Eaton’s and I have no idea how she was able to afford it,  because we were poor as church mice,” Schimnowski says, touching a napkin to the corner of one eye.

During her teen years, Schimnowski taught herself how to stitch everything from dolls to pillow cases to party gowns, including a frock patterned after one she spotted in the movie Speedway, which starred Elvis Presley and Nancy Sinatra.

“My first high school dance was just after (Speedway) came out. I loved the white dress Nancy had on — it was basically straight with short sleeves and trimmed with lace — and I made one to match, for the dance,” she says, adding she continued to sew after becoming a mother, routinely crafting tops and bottoms her kids happily wore to class.

In the mid-1990s, the former Hudson’s Bay Co. employee turned her talent into a sideline venture, selling children’s and women’s wear at craft shows across Western Canada. She added washable, cotton aprons to the mix in 2010, following the birth of her first grandchild.

It’s interesting what triggers certain memories, she says, pausing to take a sip of her coffee. As soon as she began spending more and more time looking after her grandson, she found herself thinking back to visits with her own grandmother, Justine Fehr, who lived on a farm near Hartney and donned a different apron for almost everything she did, whether it was gathering eggs, preparing meals or dusting the cupboards.

“When she was finally done her chores, and it was time to sit down for lunch or dinner, she would put on a different apron, yet again,” says Schimnowski, grinning from ear to ear. “Only that one, which she referred to as her tea apron, was always prettier and daintier than the others. When I first started sewing aprons that was the style I concentrated on most, as a tribute to my grandma.”

Since Schimnowski never knows where or when inspiration is going to strike next, she keeps a pencil and notepad handy at all times. Last month, she attended a dance recital for one of her granddaughters. During the end number, the kids onstage performed in sailor-type costumes, which made her sit up and think, “Well, if that isn’t the cutest thing.” Days later, she posted a picture of a naval-inspired, blue-and-white pinafore on her Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/apronsbyemilyrose).

Also, now that her grandson Victor is “crazy” about volcanoes, she felt obliged to create an apron featuring a burnt-orange colour scheme that conjures images of lava, spewing out of a fiery crater. (Wink, wink: because many of her aprons are billed as “fun, flirty and foxy,” from time to time she gets asked which room of the house they’re meant to be worn in, specifically.)

“I also do costume-style aprons inspired by characters such as Wonder Woman, the Golden Girls and Harry Potter,” she says, mentioning she recently filled an order from a beauty salon in Yorkshire, England, whose manager requested 10 aprons bearing a lipstick motif for his staff. “My stuff generally comes in one-size-fits-all, but I’m happy to take custom orders for women who are super tiny or extra curvy. I also make matching aprons for mothers and daughters who want to cook or bake together, in the kitchen.”

Going forward, Schimnowski intends to introduce a line of working aprons, specifically targeted toward men. Her husband builds barbecue tools in his spare time, she points out, and her aim is to complement his handiwork with eye-catching aprons bearing cheeky slogans such as “Real men pull pork.”

“I have a ton of leather taking up room in my home workspace, so I might as well use it,” she states matter-of-factly.

Schimnowski will be a featured vendor at the Winnipeg Home + Garden Show, which runs Apr. 5-8 at the RBC Convention Centre. At some point that weekend, she anticipates chatting with someone buying their first apron, at which juncture she’ll happily discuss what her utilitarian articles of clothing mean to her; how they’re not simply a means of catching stains, but are also a token of a more caring and compassionate era.

“I guess my belief is back in the day when we had the Jackies, the Lucys and the Junes, we lived in a better time,” she says, referring to former first lady Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, former first lady of comedy, Lucille Ball, and TV-mom June Cleaver. “People weren’t as judgmental. Nobody was shooting up high schools. And it’s not like I’m suggesting the world’s problems are suddenly going to disappear if everybody puts on an apron, but at the same time, we should strive to live in a place that’s kinder and gentler, where we don’t overthink every little thing.”

david.sanderson@freepress.mb.ca