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...Gods help us all. The tiny room has been hosed down with crap. And not even good crap. Can we please all accept that a bathroom has to do with water, and get beyond the idea that every bathroom needs to be decorated in a marine theme? Thank you. This tiny, tiny bathroom has been hosed down with marine crap to the point that you can barely move in it; and this, my friends, is supposed to represent progress. Yes, the bathroom needed storage. It needed storage badly. But couldn't we have had a potty hutch? Something nice and unobtrusive, tucked neatly out of the way in a space that no one uses? But no, instead what we get is a mesh vanity stuck right in front of the sink so that you have to squeeze between it and the bathtub to reach the sink. The ugly white pasteboard shelf has been replaced by a wire shelf hung even lower down and festooned with hand towels, so that anyone using the sink is going to be patted on the head by towel fringes every time they lean over. The sink has been artistically rendered unusable. And the tub has been artistically rendered filthy. The edges are crusted with glass gems that drip down to the floor like water droplets. It's a beautiful effect—I applaud it. However, the spaces between those gems and the glueless rims right under the edge of each gem are going to collect bathroom gunk. The only way to get it out is to spend half an hour each week scrubbing the jewels with a soft brush, and even then, they're going to acquire a gungy patina over time. When seven months old this effect is, look this good it will not. The tub has been accessorized by a pointless silver urn holding an escapee from the over-the-sink towel mobile—enjoy the look quick, that urn's going to be brown in a couple of weeks—and a faux stone pillar base holding a scoop of the drugs the designer was on when she created this look. Note the careful placement of the pillar base right on the outside corner of the tub where the first person to squinch into the sink nook can knock it into the tub. The Bauhaus shower curtain has been replaced, and the curtain rod is hidden underneath a scalloped canopy. The canopy goes all the way over the bathtub, creating what would probably be a good look if we could see it, although it does make the bathtub itself dark. Unfortunately, the canopy itself is poorly made, and if the wire suspending the shower rod is at all weak, the whole setup's going to be in the tub in a couple of weeks. The rest of the ornaments are wee fussy things that scream, "Knock me over!" What isn't made of glass is made of soap; and decorative soaps are all very well, but there's a good pound of gel soap in this shot alone! What lurks on the lower level of the wire hutch? Also, note my favorite touch, the delicate feather ornament placed under the mirror in the prime toothpaste-spatter-catching location.
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