The apron, tossed out decades ago when women left home for the workplace, is making a comeback as "kitschy kitchen couture," and two local entrepreneurs are helping Utahns tie one on.

Lynne Dickey offers sassy, stylish aprons through her company, No Plain Janes of Salt Lake City, while Linda Koetitz of Paradise Aprons focuses on vintage-style coverups.

Both women's aprons are fun, flattering and functional.

"You know what I think it is? All of us girls, most of us anyway, like to play dress-up," Dickey said. "These aprons are a way for people to dress up as adults. You can wear something you wouldn't be caught dead in around the city."

Once equated with servitude, the apron is being resurrected as a badge of honor, a want-to-have "tool" for today's well-equipped kitchen.

The hip trend is reversing years of a bad - and undeserved - rap, says EllynAnne Geisel, author of The Apron Book (Andrews McMeel Publishing, $16.95).

In the 1960s, "aprons were taken by women as a symbol of what was strangulating us, holding us back from realizing our potential," Geisel said. "It became a symbol of nothing positive.

"Hurray, hurray, it's back," she added.

Geisel began her "apron journey" after searching for something to symbolize the 24 years she spent as a homemaker. She began collecting vintage aprons and found herself wondering about the lives of the women who made them. Aprons had the same effect on others, she discovered.

Soon she was traveling the country, toting a laundry basket packed with aprons, collecting stories.

For older women, aprons evoke stories about foods, aromas and loved ones.

Younger women are "enamored of the apron for the good sense it makes. It protects your clothes," said Geisel, a co-contributor to the "Apron Chronicles," a traveling apron exhibit managed by the Women's Museum in Dallas.

Plus, they are cute and sassy, too. "You put on lipstick, you put on high heels and an apron and you feel like a party girl," she said. "These are not aprons that are chore driven. These are fashionable coverage."

Slipping on an apron after a day at the office helps some women transition back into nesting mode, she said.

"I am not advocating, no way, that women drop what they are doing and rush back into that kitchen, upgraded or not," Geisel said. "But I think the desire to have a calm spot is in all of us, and to have friends and family join us in it. I think aprons are all a part of it."

Dickey became an apron maker after rediscovered her sewing machine following a 30-year career as an opera and musical theater performer in New York City.

"I sewed a lot in high school because my dad wasn't so keen on buying ready-made clothing, even though our family owned the only clothing department store in a small town in Iowa," she said. "My dad would pay for any amount of fabric if we made [clothing] ourselves."

Four years ago, Dickey made aprons to sell in her sister's tea room in Baltimore. She only sold a couple, but she had a blast making them.

So she sewed a whole series of aprons for family and friends, drawing on themes culled from movies, books, vacation spots and history. And then she just kept sewing.

Last year, Dickey offered her aprons in a "fringe" booth at the Salt Lake City Farmer's Market in Pioneer Park. They were a hit. This year, her "domestic frippery" is in an official booth.

Her No Plain Janes creations feature wild patterns, styles and fabrics, with prices ranging from $15 to $50.

"I can't help thinking of names for them sometimes as I go along," said Dickey. Like "Watermelon Frenzy" and "Cherry Flamingo."

Each apron is one-of-a-kind, said Dickey, whose real job is working for jetBlue in crew support. "It is a little unclear whether what I'm doing here is a hobby or a business. A businessÂperson would mass produce as many as possible. I want to make a special one for each person who buys one."

For some customers, it is a practical purchase. One woman bought an apron for a relative who is in nursing home to wear while eating, Dickey said.

Others find the aprons jog good memories; some want to create new ones.

"I've gotten a lot of younger women, who I'm not even sure cook that much, but they seem to get a kick out of the designs and chance to have a dress-up item that they wouldn't wear out and about but appeals to their personality."

Linda Koetitz discovered she might be onto something after getting rave reviews for aprons she made family and friends as Christmas gifts.

"There is something about an apron being a badge of honor," she said.

She launched her apron-making business in 2006 after moving to a 102-year-old farmhouse in Paradise. Living in the town, about 12 miles south of Logan, made it difficult to continue working full time as a hair stylist.

Koetitz has a booth at the Gardener's Market in Logan. She also sells her aprons online, at the Little Bear Boutique in Hyrum, Persian Peacock in Logan and Salon NV in Salt Lake City, where she still works one day a week.

She uses patterns based on aprons worn by her mother, grandmother and great-grandmother - a time period spanning the 1890s to the 1950s.

"I love anything vintage," she said. That sentiment is reflected in the styles and fabrics featured in the Paradise Aprons line, which sell for $15 to $38.

Of her 10 apron styles, the Auntie Em apron - a full-length apron like the one worn by Auntie Em in "The Wizard of Oz" - is a top seller. So is The American Diner apron. The Pillow Case Apron is made from recycled vintage pillow cases.

Koetitz also makes custom aprons requested by clients. Donnajean Provin of Farmington bought a Paradise Apron for a friend who is a gardener and then ordered an apron for herself with an "retro cowboy look."

"She custom made it to fit me," said Provin, whom Koetitz let select the material and pattern. "They are so cute and so well made I can put a nice little shirt under it and with jeans and boots it looks perfect" for a Western-theme dinner party.

brooke@sltrib.com