I remember the exact moment I realized something was amiss. It was a month after we’d completed our renovation – an amazing amount of work – we ripped up that awful 80’s-era carpet (still mind-blowing that anyone ever thought bathroom carpet was a good idea); we repainted the entire wall; we replaced the old showerhead. And the area looked so much nicer than what the previous owner left behind.
However, the area felt clinical and somewhat empty. It reminded me of the display bathrooms at B&Q, where each item seems perfectly placed, yet no one uses the space. I told my girlfriend it looked great, which it did, however I could not shake the feeling that we missed something very significant.
That realization struck me one morning while I was hurrying to get ready for school – I had Year 9 first period – and therefore needed all my wits about me from the minute I woke up. I was trying to brush my teeth using a random mug we picked up from the kitchen as a makeshift toothbrush holder, and squeezing soap from one of those plastic dispensers you buy at Tesco, and I simply said to myself: “This is crazy.” We had spent months designing colors for painting and researching bathroom suite options, but ultimately we ended the project with anything we happened to find laying around.
It’s like purchasing a wonderful-looking couch then draping a worn-out throw blanket across it and claiming it styled. The frame existed but none of the essential elements that create a space to appear as if lived-in and personalized.
Therefore, I began paying attention to what we used everyday. That soap dispenser was utilized approximately 20 times per person – for morning routines, for washing your hands, for brushing your teeth. Each and every time it was this cheap plastic contraption that appeared to belong in a gas station restroom. The pump mechanism was unreliable as well – sometimes you had to push it very hard and half of the time nothing would come out. Then you pushed it harder and received far too much soap all over your face/hands/etc.
Swapped it with a ceramic soap holder that matched our paint color – a warm gray we agonized over for weeks because I feared it would be too dark in a small space. It cost about thirty pounds – which seemed insane for something that merely holds soap – however the difference was instantaneous. All of sudden that corner of the vanity unit appeared intended rather than as if we had merely tossed whatever lay nearby.
The toothbrush scenario was even worse. That mug was certainly deceiving us both – and also often being knocked over due to mugs are generally not designed for bathroom counter spaces. Located a real toothbrush holder with individual areas – not expensive but it looked as though it belonged there. Incredibly how something so basic may cause all other items to look organized.
Here is where I almost screwed up — entered John Lewis with good intentions and almost purchased one of those matching bathroom units. You know the type — the soap dispenser, toothbrush holder, etc., match each other. Extremely useful and I can understand why many individuals purchase these types of products when attempting to organize a bathroom rapidly. However they appeared so … catalogue-like? As if someone had checked off boxes on a form rather than truly selecting products they enjoyed.
As opposed to purchasing one of these complete units, I decided to mix-and-match. Utilized the same color palette but chose various materials — ceramic material for soap/toothbrush holders, then created a small glass dish for my girlfriends jewelry (her ring always falls off when she removes it to wash her hands, and she cannot seem to recall where she places it). Lastly located a bamboo container for cotton pads in TK Maxx for about three dollars.
The towel bars were additionally annoying me — whoever had installed them prior obviously did not consider how individuals utilize bathrooms. The hand towel was installed directly adjacent to the sink which receives wet all the time; the primary towel bar was installed in an unusual location where you receive water all over the floor when you attempt to reach it after a shower. Simple enough issues — nonetheless, it produced the entire area to appear awkwardly to use.
Relocating them required an enormous amount of effort — filled the old holes, repainted, drilled new holes. Completed the task over a weekend while I should’ve been grading papers for Year 8 Geography Assessments — however, to be honest, it was far more enjoyable than reading thirty similar essays regarding coastal erosion. The new positions make considerably more sense — furthermore, I updated the finish somewhat to be warmer and functions better with my ceramic accessories.
Next challenge was storage. Our bathroom is extremely small — most Victorian conversion homes possess bathrooms constructed out-of what used to be cupboard space, etc. Space on countertops disappear rapidly when you begin placing items that you actually require. I did not desire to hide everything within cabinets because then you will always have to open cabinets — nor did I wish for everything to appear as if Boots had exploded within the area.
Ultimately placed a small wooden shelf above the toilet. Yes, yes — over-the-toilet shelves are contentious. My mom considers it disgusting — constantly speaks of germs and hygiene. Nonetheless, when you have roughly four sq ft of flooring space — you take advantage of what you can obtain. Painted it the same color as the walls — so that it appears integrated rather than stuck-on — and I’m cautious regarding what gets placed upon it.
Acquired a small potted pothos plant for one side — my girlfriends suggestion — and I was skeptical since I kill everything green that comes close to me. Nevertheless, apparently bathroom humidity is some kind of plant utopia — and the plant is flourishing wonderfully. Creates the overall space to appear less austere — blurs all of the sharp edges and hard surfaces. Additionally, does that thing plants do — produces an atmosphere where you feel marginally more like a functioning adult with your life collectively.
Lastly, lighting annoyed me also. We retained the existing ceiling fixture since it functioned okay — and we were attempting to save money — (teaching income + mortgage = not much funds for unneeded updates). However, it is quite harsh — particularly when you’re stumbling about in the dead of night attempting to avoid waking everyone up.
Located these battery powered LED strips that attach underneath the vanity unit — generates a subtle ambient glow that is far gentler for nighttime bathroom trips. No electrical work necessary — which is excellent since I’m certainly not certified to fiddle with bathroom wiring. Approximately twenty dollars — and makes evening rituals significantly more civilized.
In total, the entire transformation likely cost under £150 — and took several weekends to achieve correctly — primarily because I consistently questioned my decisions and moved things around. Yet, the effect was incredible — suddenly our bathroom felt like our bathroom — rather than merely a functional space we happen to occupy.
What stunned me most was how these minor modifications influenced our daily routine. Using quality accessories made mundane activities feel less automatic — more … pleasant, perhaps. Such as the distinction between consuming meals from paper plates vs dining on actual china — equivalent food — completely distinct experiences.
Our bathroom still is not ideal — tiles surrounding bathtub are irregularly shaped due to us completing them ourselves — & there is an additional smudge of paint near doorway requiring touch-ups. Nevertheless, it presently feels complete — occupied by us rather than merely functional space. Occasionally indeed — it is simply the small aspects that provide a space with a sense of home rather than merely someplace between work duties where you store your belongings
