Ya know, toilet designer people, when folks go to the loo they do not want to be reminded that they’re going to die. How come you lot don’t realise that? What is your problem? Why do you keep designing dunnies that bring Edgar Allen Poe to mind? Is premature burial really the theme you were going for?
If it isn’t then here are my tips for what to avoid:
- Do not use all dark wood materials
- Do not make the toilet teeny tiny
- Have windows, or, you know, at least gaps above and below the doors
- Dim lighting is also a no no. Romance is not what most of us are looking for when we’re on the bog
- Red lighting also not fabbie for the toilet experience
- Also piped music of people screaming and hearts beating should be avoided
You think I’m exaggarating, don’t you? Nuh uh. The last few posh restaurants I went to in New York City, London, Bangkok and Sydney all featured dunnies that would have scared the living crap out of me (which I guess is sort of the point, but still!) if I were claustrophobic. They were wood panelled and so dark I could barely find the loo, let alone the loo paper.
One of them had the added charm of featuring a whole series of i.q. tests as to where the doors to the cubicles were, how to get the soap dispenser and taps to work, and how to find the exit. Just the kind of larks we’re all hoping for in a dunny.
Way to go, toilet designer sadists people.
I don’t know about you, but if there’s one place in the world that I want to be bright and clean and functional and in no way reminiscent of premature burial or i.q. tests for rats—it’s the dunny.
You know, this doesn’t apply generally to commercial bathrooms, but one thing that just confuses me in some people’s homes is the arrangement of the bathroom so that you are essentially forced to look at yourself in the mirror while you are sitting on the toilet. That layout always makes me wonder about the fundamental sanity of the home’s owners.
My father bought a house some ten or fifteen years ago now, which his family still lives in today, where the only bathroom on the first floor contains a black toilet/loo.
And textured wallpaper. Textured leopard print wallpaper. With eyes. Eyes that stare at you while you try to pee.
Leaving aside the matter who who on earth thought it would be okay to have textured wallpaper with eyes, the real question is, why in a decade plus has that bathroom not been renovated into oblivion (or at least inoffensiveness)??
bwahahahahahahahaha!! made my day. i was in the middle of eating my lucky charms too. 😀
the last fancy restaurant toilet i went to was painted darkest red and was illuminated only by a tiny dark red lightbulb. I literally had to feel along the walls to find toilet paper or paper towels. argh! and also ewwww!
In Calgary, there used to be toilets at one restaurant with transparent doors. The doors would go opaque when you shut ’em–due to some weird current running through ’em. But the first time I saw them, I had no way of knowing that.
But mostly after living in downtown SF, all I look for in a toilet these days is a modicum of cleanliness and no pee on the seat.
Chris said: one thing that just confuses me in some people’s homes is the arrangement of the bathroom so that you are essentially forced to look at yourself in the mirror while you are sitting on the toilet
I know! That is so very weird. I will never understand why.
Veejane asked: why in a decade plus has that bathroom not been renovated into oblivion (or at least inoffensiveness)??
Oh, that I can explain. Inertia is a powerful force.
Jennifer said: the last fancy restaurant toilet i went to was painted darkest red and was illuminated only by a tiny dark red lightbulb
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen this. The designers are just messing with us. This is their idea of fun. They must be destroyed.
I went to a restaurant where the bathrooms had speakers, sharing Italian lessons.
Dear automatic toilets,
Stop flushing when people are STILL, um, SITTING on you.
Thanks!
“Stop flushing when people are STILL, um, SITTING on you.”
Oooooh, yes, I hate that. The school toilets do that here. And they spit, too. I always have to leap up right away and stand smushed up against the stall door to avoid an untimely and rather nasty shower.