Where Have All the Tablecloths Gone?

This water-in-the-basement problem has forced me to clear out shelves and drawers that happen to occupy space that will soon be host to jackhammers. In so doing, I have come upon items that I had no idea I still owned. Sad to say, I've also discovered stores of rice and other grains, piled up in remote corners by the resident mice . . . for a future they will never know, thanks to my exterminators. It's been a fun week. Not.

One drawer hosted Halloween costumes, including a wedding "hat" that this maid-of-honor wore in a 1974 wedding. It shared space with a tutu, a pirate's sword, and a coonskin cap. Another drawer had a collection of shawls, three of them crocheted by yours truly. If shawls ever come back in style, I'm good to go.  Another drawer had a lot of bubble wrap. You can never have too much bubble wrap. Who knows when you might have to ship a dinner service for twelve somewhere across the country? Or when the Age of Trump has stressed you out so much you need to pop air bubbles 24/7?

And then there was the drawer of tablecloths. Yes, I used to host family dinners which involved tablecloths. I even have some matching cloth napkins. There's a Happy Birthday tablecloth, one filled with hearts (used for Valentine's Day, of course), several winter/Christmas ones, one full of autumn leaves, and other miscellaneous ones in shades of blue, green, and rose. And a white lace one, of course. As much as I loved the idea of holiday decorating, I think I was more intent on protecting the dining room table. Whatever, I had a collection of tablecloths, and I used them.

So do people still use tablecloths? Perhaps they do, and I am just out-of-the-loop since I gave up on tablecloths several years ago, mostly because I stopped celebrating holidays with the same exuberance as I did when my kids were young and my extended family was large and accessible. So I don't know if they're still a thing. I considered donating mine to church groups that collect such things, and then I realized that I could use the tablecloths the same way I use old sheets . . . as drop cloths for painting projects. So the tablecloths are still here.

And then, amid the tablecloths, I found . . . an apron. Yes, a full-body apron. I remember in seventh-grade home-ec, our first project was an apron. It was easy. Thread the needle through the top and pull to gather, then stick it all together on a three-foot strip which would tie it all to your body. At that time, the full-body apron was a throw-back to another time. (Think Granny in The Beverly Hillbillies.) In the fifties and sixties, the apron only covered the nether-regions. (WHY?????) The takeaway here is this: there was a time when women wore aprons.

And, as kitschy as that may be, I am a bit distressed at the metaphor. Women are tied to the kitchen duties? Keeping the nether-regions clean is a priority? Wearing the "uniform" of domesticity keeps women in their place?

Or maybe they're just tablecloths and aprons. And maybe, when I see men purchasing tablecloths and donning aprons, I will soften my blatant feminism and happily sit down at a table on which a meal, prepared by a man, awaits my compliments.

P.S. That has already happened. Well, minus the apron. Thank you, Ed.