I wear an apron aand a pretty dress

I wear an apron, though a feminist
I don’t believe I must forgo my dress
To keep it clean while    copying  Julia Child….
Yes,I wear an apron I confess.

And here’s my yeast so I can bake my bread
You say I  should not sink to women’s craft?
Did I not teach  to aid the working class?
To me, it’s you who sink  with words   so daft

I’ve no   to wish show  I’m equal to a man
Nor to a woman either,for you see
My wisdom  says my choice  is to pursue bents
And only doing this will make me free.

As I don my apron I connect
To all who like to cook,whatever  sex.