When Kate Linehan ties on her apron, she feels a bit like Super Woman slipping into her cape. Behind that flutter of fabric, Linehan is empowered and ready to take on any task.

“I love aprons so much. I love their functionality. They create a sense of being in control. You put on the apron and you are ready to go,” said the 26-year-old apron collector and creator from Aspen.

Recession, nostalgia and, yes, girl power are fueling a trend that has women of all ages and interests tying on aprons. These aprons may serve as spill catchers, hand wipers and garden-tool holders. But they are also fashion statements. “Hip” and “hot” are adjectives often used to describe today’s aprons.

Aprons sporting names like “Whisk Me” and “Mai Tai” are turning up on runways and rock-concert stages. Aprons have their own Facebook pages and Twitter accounts. There are apron blogs and a magazine devoted to aprons. A Dutch art gallery has an exhibit devoted entirely to aprons.

A plethora of apron websites like Tie One On, Calamity Jane’s Cottage and The Apron Shoppe tout the home-cooking and gardening lifestyle while also selling aprons featuring everything from iPod pockets to rhinestone ties.

The upscale Anthropologie stores in Cherry Creek and Park Meadows malls sell aprons that look like the front half of vintage dresses. Booths of handmade aprons are starting to crowd out tie-dye sellers at craft fairs and farmers’ markets.

“Aprons have definitely become a popular item,” said Jill Jones at Decade, a trendy South Broadway gift store where pretty often trumps practicality when it comes to apron purchases.

Cindy Busker, a Grand Junction midwife, wears a different apron every day at home. She plucks whichever suits her mood from a large drawer filled with ruffly, riotously colored aprons that she sews up herself, often from Mexican-themed fabrics.

She is not surprised that aprons are riding a new wave of retro chic that also includes cupcakes, casseroles, cocktails, canning and gardening.

“My amazement is that they ever fell out of favor,” she said.

But in the 1970s, when the Stepford wives became aproned symbols of oppression, aprons were burned alongside bras.

Now, aprons often signal nostalgia even though many of them are far removed from Grandma’s saggy, Mother Hubbard-style apron.

“I think there is some sentimentality to this apron thing, only with a modern twist,” said Stephanie Crow, as she rifled through a rack of the one-of-a- kind aprons she makes and sells.

Her aprons are sassy with buttons, rickrack and tiny pom-poms. Her mother, Carol Vidrozny, who sells many of them at Z’s Orchard in Palisade, said some buyers have never worn an apron or never ventured beyond the plain- Jane chef’s aprons.

Women browsing Z’s aprons have told her, “If I bought this apron, I would never leave the kitchen.”

The new aprons are certainly viewed by some as being more about sex appeal than soup spills.

“They do have that cheeky thing going on,” said Cynthia Lagudi, a 28-year-old New Yorker who sells aprons and cupcakes from her Cupcake Provocateur website.

Lagudi’s retro-style aprons channel pin-up queens as well as iconic TV housewives. Some are featured on models who wear nothing but a saucy apron and a pair of pumps.

One of Lagudi’s aprons had a supporting role in a recent episode of “Ugly Betty.” The lead singer of the band Charlotte Sometimes wears a Lagudi apron to perform.

Janell Recendez of La Muerte Apparel in Denver makes aprons that appeal more to the rockabilly crowd. Her aprons match up with toaster covers, potholders, placemats and curtains. They are all stitched up in fabrics that feature skulls or tattoo-type art.

And aprons will soon have a new venue in the trendy heart of Denver when The Perfect Petal in Highland opens another store in Larimer Square. Adrienne Moon of the Petal said the new store will have plenty of interesting aprons.

She wears two of the store’s “fancy” aprons at home. Her boyfriend bought one for her. It’s ruffled and has a big button on the left hip where she can hang a dishrag.

“It’s fashionable,” she said with a giggle. “And it’s functional.”

Nancy Lofholm: 970-256-1957 or nlofholm@denverpost.com