Normally I eschew kitchen prints for fear that they'll give me frown lines. I mean, who wants to be reminded of the drudgery that many folks think is synonymous with womanhood. Feh, that’s what I say.

I’ve seen many a shirtwaist dress with ladles and cookpots all over it and turned up my nose. I don’t want a dress that would look cute with an apron. I want a vintage novelty print that could stand up in court and say: I object, Your Honor. (Black and white 40s rayon short sleeved dress covered in semicolons) I want a snappy print that I could wear to interview Jacques Chirac. (I already have it: late 40s rayon, full skirt with pink, grey and black medieval-style guys in turbans kneeling on prayer rugs while others canter around on horses. Insouciant, I know. I’d pair it with my late 50s style jacket in black with jet buttons and black square toed boots. Bonjour, Monsieur le President…) I want power novelty.

So what am I doing with this tablecloth?

Just look at that adorable lobster. Look at those fish (peces y pescado: in Spanish there’s a different word for the fish in the sea and the fish on your plate). There are cloves of garlic and bottles of booze, for crying out loud. And the maps, how could I resist the maps? They make it transcendent, they make it educational.

Now there’s only 35" x 48" of it, so this is a fantasy, but I want a shirtwaist dress with short cuffed sleeves made of this beauty and I’d wear it to a conference on biodiversity. Not that anyone has invited me to any conferences. Nor do I have any meetings with world leaders in my calendar, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.