Deep sigh. In the shower this morning, I noticed that the sealant has started to go black and nasty – again. Inevitably.
It’s amazing how technology can do so many marvellous things yet the simple one of a permanent, non-nasty bathroom seal is not one of them. (Rush to contradict me, please)
And so I was drawn to consider the great bathroom fantasy (no, smutty, not that one). The bathroom fantasy that shows snowy towels and serenity, the one that’s a total and utter myth – a big fat lie. Here among the bathroom ideas is the difference between the fantasy and the reality.
Double sinks. Suggestive of intimate brushing a deux, grinning over the foaming Colgate.
Reality – grinding teeth at middle-tube squeezing and “ahhh, wait until I’m finished before you do that, puleeeze”.
No clutter. Only the most carefully chosen and tasteful bottles and jars on display, catching the light.
Reality – geriatric hairy soap and encrusted shaving accessories not in the cabinet because it’s rammed and rains cotton buds and tampons every time it opens.
Serenity. Acres of clear white tiles, subtle – but reassuringly expensive – scents and silence.
Reality – “Muuuum, are you in there? I need a poo.” And rubbing suspicious looking gunk from tiles with long-discoloured Eve Lom muslin cloth.
Clouds of pristine towels. Just waiting to envelope a freshly washed body like an Egyptian cotton cuddle.
Reality – Stains that defy all the most expensive products’ advertising promises and firm resolve not to think about what the previous bathroom occupant did with the towel.
Shiny, inviting surfaces. Mirrors, sinks, floors and even toilets gleam. Spotlessly waiting for you to enjoy.
Reality – A relentless and unwinnable campaign against toothpaste spit, balls of hair, splashes of wee, soap scum and slimy drains.
Home spa. Theraputic and restorative ‘treatments’ in the comfort of your own home – cheap and convenient. Why pay for to visit a salon?
Reality – dusty aromatherapy diffusers and scented candles, unused body brushes, crust-covered half-empty face mask jars and the fat chance of getting even 20 minutes for this ‘indulgent treat’. Why pay? Because it’s the only way it’ll ever happen and it’s worth every penny.
Soothing lighting. Those glowing little lights that flatter and ease tired eyes twinkling while you wallow.
The reality – guessing with the eyeliner because the mirror is still too steamed up and the bulb too dim anyway. And worse, only spotting the really long whisker (you know the one) after a whole day at work when everyone else must have seen it.