Bathroom

My little loo redo (a little loo doesn’t have to be a dreary loo)

Posted by Joy on Mar 19, 2012 in Bathroom | 0 comments

When we bought this house, the previous homeowners had just finished redoing the bathroom.  I think.  At least it looked like they had tried.  Somewhat.  There were sad-looking unfinished drywall patches.  There was a whole lot of glossy white caulking (apparently their solution to hiding the seam between the tile and the wall.)  And there was beigeness. Drab and dreary and muddy beigeness.  It was fine for a little while, but as time wore on I grew grumpy with my little unfinished overcaulked beige loo.

And then (as always happens) I just couldn’t take it anymore.  So I grabbed my trusty paintbrush.  And a quart of BM Woodlawn Blue.  And a bit (A LOT) of caulking remover.  And a new mirror and a few little accessories.  And poof! My dreary drab little loo became a much cheerier loo.

And, because it’s so much prettier now, I kinda want to show it off to you.  :)

(That was me trying to be all poetic.  Fail, eh?)  (Yep.  That’s what I thought.)

Firstly…  a before.  See the beige?  It’s very beige.

And when I pulled off the big globs of glossy white caulking, half the drywall came off too.  Of course.  (Hence all the patching above.)

After.  Painted lovely and cheery Woodlawn Blue.  :)

I also swapped out the standard (ie: cheap) door pulls for heavier, fancier pulls.

The new pulls make the cabinet look a little less like a Home Depot weekly special, no?  Plus, I just think they’re pretty.  :)

Before…  The “nook” (not sure what else to call it…  calling it the “hole in the wall left by the old window that was no longer required because an addition was added to the back of the house making the window a rather silly and useless feature” just seems a little long-winded.  So let’s just call it the “nook”, k?)

(See the drywall patches?  I believe that THIS would be the exact point where the old owners lost momentum.  Just a hunch.)

After, all prettied up!  (Ie: painted.)

(The basket is where my blowdryer hides.  Shhh.  Don’t tell.)

The ceiling before.  Yep, it was beige too.   In the early morning, it was a bit like showering in a tiny, lightless, cardboard box.  Fun.

After (with a light, bright, white ceiling) (yup – more poetry for you!) (but a rather crumpled shower curtain…  just ignore that k?)

Much better eh?  I like to think so!  And because I DO think so, here are just a few more pics…

My old fashioney mirror (I love vintage-ish etched mirrors – they remind me of my grandmother.)

My pretty little soap dispenser (it’s hard to make out in the picture, but the front says “pure soap.”  I’m not sure why I like it so much – I just do :)

Peeking out toward the door through polka-dotty Joy, my beloved PVC shower curtain.

And here is everything in one pic (at least as much as I could cram in while standing in the farthest corner of the tub – it’s rather hard to take pictures of a tiny little 5×6 foot loo while in a tiny little 5×6 foot loo!)

And there you have it.  :)  If a 5×6 foot, near-windowless washroom could be cheery, I think mine would be pretty darn smiley.  Or at least rather relieved to no longer be beige.  And heavily caulked.  And unfinished.  (Although I do still want to swap out the super-shiny, seagull-like faucet, but that’s another story.)

Joy isn’t just a state of mind (it’s also a shower curtain!)

Posted by Joy on Mar 5, 2012 in Bathroom | 0 comments

I know we haven’t yet chatted about my bathroom (oh, little loo – how you frustrate me so), so I apologize for skipping the requisite introduction-post, but suffice it to say (if you hadn’t already figured it out) that, like the rest of our house, it’s small.  Like, really small.  Tiny.  Minute.  Itty-bitty.

Whenever I watch home-buying shows (you know, House Hunters, Property Virgins, Urban-Suburban…) I always laugh (guffaw, if you will) whenever prospective home buyers walk into a bathroom and emphatically declare “oh.  It’s a little small.”  Guaranteed, ours is likely smaller.  But, it’s functional.  It is 5×6 feet (including the tub) of perfectly-planned space intended to suit the 1940s family (and I’m sure it served the original owners of this house just swell.)  And it suits me and Sweetie just fine as well.  There is a tub.  There is a sink.  There is even a toilet squished into the corner (and some cupboard space to boot.)  Can we both be in there getting ready at the same time?  Well, no.  But we’ve adopted a morning-routine staggering approach that works just dandy for us.  :)

With a tiny little loo comes very little space for extra… fluff.  I’ve always longed after those bathrooms with the gorgeous ruffled shower curtains a la the Flamenco curtain from Antropologie, or the lovely and appropriately named Ruffle curtain from the brilliant folk at Pottery Barn.  But when space is at a premium, extra rufflies and layers just take up additional room.  Hence, I’ve always opted for the basic (and less sought after) PVC shower curtain.

I know.  Gasp.  There are lots of people who believe that vinyl shower curtains should only be used as liners.  There are many who feel that they’re tacky and passe and reminiscent of bad 1980s decor.  To these folk, I nod in agreement and hang my head just a little in shame.  However, when you’re faced with a 5×6 foot loo, one must do what one must do, and just make the best out of the situation.  I have done all that.  I have found Joy.

I actually located Joy several years ago when we were still in our first house.  It too had a tiny little loo.  I found her at Zellers one afternoon while wandering the bath aisle, and squealed just a little (being the big geek that I am, I’m always instantly drawn to anything bearing my name.)  I purchased my first ever Joy shower curtain that day.  I’ve purchased several more since then.  And I purchased two yesterday – with my beloved Zellers-store soon to be transformed into a Target, one can never have too many reserve Joy shower curtains.  You know, just in case of the inevitable (and unthinkable): discontinuation.

Joy is everything I’d expect her to be.  She’s semi-transparent (perfect for a tiny, badly-lit little loo.)  And she’s spattered in happy white polka-dots.  She’s simple, but pretty, and a little bit of fun.  If I can’t have a Flamenco-ruffled-pretty-flowy fabric shower curtain, Joy is the next best thing.

And, in the early morning, when I’m staggering into the loo semi-blinded by the first light of day, Joy does make me happy.  Joyful, perhaps.  Or at least as content as one can be at 6am on a Monday morning.