I remember standing in my bathroom at 7 o’clock in the morning, toothbrush halfway to my mouth, as I finally realized the ugly truth: this layout was completely nonsensical. The door opens right into the toilet; the vanity is squished against the window (hello, no natural light); and then there is that weird dead space behind the door that collects dust bunnies and nothing else. For three years, I had been awkwardly bumping my hips off the sink edge and for three years, our guests had been doing that horrible dance-around-the-toilet-shuffle just to wash their hands.
Hindsight is always screaming, isn’t it?
I’m sure the original design looked perfect on paper. Some designer probably drew nice neat rectangles to represent fixtures, and said “voila!” But whoever did the design has obviously never even actually used a bathroom. The toilet is facing the door bad for both parties. The shower is located so that you have to squeeze past the vanity to get to it, usually dripping wet. And as far as storage goes…there was none.
To be honest, I lived with this disaster for three years because I figured that bathroom renovations were expensive and complicated. However, after my friend Sarah visited and asked “where would be a good place to freshen up?” (Translation: She wanted to put her makeup bag somewhere other than the back of the toilet), I knew that I had to take action.
First thing I did was measure the entire bathroom. Twice. Then I stood in the middle of the room and really tried to think about how I actually move through the space. Where do I stand when I brush my teeth? Where do I want the towel rack? How much clearance do I really need around the toilet? (A lot more than I had, that’s for sure).
So, here is what I found out: The door swing killed me. The door swung open into the room immediately blocking access to half of the space. Switching to a pocket door (which required some wall surgery) instantly gave me back about eight square feet of usable space. That may not seem like a lot, but in a bathroom, it is HUGE.
Next, I moved the vanity to the opposite wall. This required moving plumbing. Which was not inexpensive (£800 for a plumber who didn’t make me feel stupid for asking him questions). But now I could finally see myself in the mirror while having natural light shine in my face from the side window. Revolutionary stuff, really.
The toilet got repositioned to what used to be the vanity wall. Giving it some privacy and making the traffic flow in the bathroom much more logical. Now you can walk in, turn left to the vanity, or go straight to the shower. No more awkward movement necessary.
And that’s when things got interesting. That dead space behind the door? Once I switched to a pocket door, it became prime real estate. I had a narrow cabinet installed just 150 mm deep but running from floor to ceiling. Now I have storage for cleaning supplies, extra toilet paper, towels, etc. all of the random bathroom junk that used to live in a cluttered pile under the sink.
The shower was the biggest challenge. The original placement meant that the door opened into the room creating this weird water drip situation on the floor. I flipped it so the door faces the back wall rather than the room entrance. Minor adjustment. Huge difference. No more puddles at the bathroom door. And the shower feels much more private too.
I also installed what I refer to as a “landing zone” a narrow shelf mounted on the wall next to the door about waist-high. Perfect for dropping keys, phone, or hair ties when you’re in a hurry getting ready. Simple addition. Stops the vanity from being a catch-all for miscellaneous stuff.
The mirror situation merits its own paragraph. The old was one of those builder-standard rectangles, placed too high and too small. I replaced it with a round mirror about 25 percent larger and hung it lower, so it actually reflects your face rather than your forehead. And I added a small shelf underneath for everyday essentials. Big game-changer.
Storage-wise, I maximized vertical space wherever possible. Narrow, tall cabinets instead of wide, shallow ones. Wall-mounted everything. Even the toilet paper holder got upgraded to one of those recessed models that holds four rolls instead of one. Because running out of toilet paper when you have guests is a unique kind of stress.
I was surprised at how big a difference the flooring switch made. Replaced small white tiles (grout nightmare) with large format grey tiles. Fewer grout lines mean less cleaning. And the larger size makes the room appear larger. And grey doesn’t show every speck of dust and hair like white does. Why didn’t someone tell me this earlier?
Lighting was another eye opener. The original set-up was one harsh overhead light that made everyone look awful. I added sconces on each side of the mirror (proper task lighting for actually seeing what you’re doing) and kept the overhead light but changed the bulb to a dimmer bulb for general lighting. Now I can apply makeup without looking like I’m performing surgery.
Cost-wise, the whole renovation cost about £3200. Not chump change by any means. But spread out over several months, and considering how much more functional the space is now, every penny was well worth it. The plumbing relocation was the largest single expense. Followed closely by the custom cabinet work.
If I had done anything different? I wish I’d taken care of the ventilation at the same time. The old fan was loud and useless. Afterward, adding a better one caused more disruption than it would have if I had planned it all from the beginning.
The new layout works so much better for my actual daily use. Mornings aren’t chaotic obstacle courses. Guests can actually move around easily. And yes, there is now a suitable place to put Sarah’s makeup bag when she comes over.
There are times when the most obvious issues become the ones you learn to deal with until somebody forces you to really examine them. My bathroom needed more than just new paint and fixtures it needed a total redo of how the space is actually utilized. One of the best decisions I made last year.
