The salty, tangy bouquet of fluorescent orange, liquid processed cheese product oozing on triangles of warm, toasted corn chips decorated with pickled jalapenos wafts relentlessly into my olfactory system.

My stepdaughter and her gaggle of gorgeous teenage girlfriends sit eating stadium concessions in the row of plastic folding chairs ahead of me in the cavernous convention center while "Pomp and Circumstance" fills the air. We are there to watch the class of 2012 as they are bestowed with their high school diplomas.

The girls are more emotional than on a typical day, as several of them are watching their older by one year, senior class boyfriends take one step closer towards college.

A particularly beautiful, charismatic and clever companion of my stepdaughter is directly in front of me – she is one of my favorites for her wildly funny sense of humor. This young lady is the lucky recipient of amazing genetics: 5 feet 10 inches tall, blonde, brains and beauty. The combination belies the teenage insecurity that is flooding out of her at the moment.

The corners of her mouth stained with nacho cheese, she suddenly turns around to whisper sharply to me, her breath filled with the mock-cheesy Mexican treat and tinged with anxiety, "Linds, tell me you have some deodorant with you."

Her nerves had overcome her and she had begun to excrete the damp product of emotion under her arms that terrifies teenagers across the universe because of course, sweat turns into stink. Or so they tell themselves.

I take the moment as a hippie-stepmom-on-a-soapbox moment and tell her that not only do I not carry deodorant with me, but I don't even use it all.

Her eyes go wide with horror. "WHAT, Linds? How is that possible? How do you NOT smell ... bad?"

I explain that the odor associated with sweating is actually caused by breakdown of bacteria from a type of sweat from our fatty sweat glands – the apocrine glands. That particular substance, mixed with hairs and hair follicles in t…

I am rising to an unvoiced challenge: to resurrect the apron as a kitchen necessity and domestic fashion statement once again.

When did the apron stop being as commonplace in the kitchen as a coffeemaker? When did kids stop coming home to moms swathed in floral, frilly frocks? When did wiping your hands on the front of your jeans replace gently smoothing sullied palms along the pleats of a lacey smock?

Perhaps when cooking from scratch was replaced by popping something in the microwave. Possibly around the advent of Oxyclean/Shout! stain removers. Probably when our clothing became so casual it was not worth protecting anymore.

After all, isn't that what an apron is? She is like armor combined with a shield packaged in a sheath of cloth (hopefully printed with a darling pattern) slipped over the neck and tied in a quaint bow around the waist. Better than a tool belt that only carries things, an apron equipped with pockets does double duty to guard you from splatters and acts as storage for any array of ingredients, utensils or electronic devices you wish to have on your person.

How is it even possible that this essential piece of wardrobe has become a kitschy relic of days gone by?

Not in my house.

Throwing one of my darling aprons over even sweats takes my galley style from Sloppy McNasty to classic polished. Or, if I'm wearing something a bit more precious, I count on my cute covering to defend me from splashes and spills.

And not to make anyone feel left out, I do love me a Mapron, Manpron ... whatever you want to call it ... a gent in an apron. Whether he's covered from chest to knee, or from the waist down, an apron-ed torso signals a man on a mission. I smell barbecue.

Feel like the apron has no edge? Channel your inner Donna Reed, your dormant Betty Crocker and add a dash of Betty Page – wear JUST your favorite apron. Suddenly, that quiet little swathe has a bit more allure, a modern update that may add a bit more spice to whatever you've got going on …