Standing in my mate’s hallway last Tuesday, I could hear the chaos coming from upstairs – running water, something that sounded like a small explosion, and then her ten-year-old shouting “It’s fine, Mum!” from the bathroom. She just looked at me and said, “This is why I need help.” I knew exactly what she meant because I’d been there myself when I helped my sister sort out her son’s bathroom a few years back.
That first attempt? Absolute disaster, if I’m being honest. We went completely overboard with this whole pirate theme – I’m talking skull and crossbones wallpaper, a treasure chest for storage, even found this ship’s wheel mirror on eBay that cost more than I’d like to admit. It looked like something from a theme park, and Jake loved it. For exactly seven months. Then he hit nine years old, decided pirates were “babyish,” and suddenly refused to use his own bathroom without complaining about how embarrassing it was.
Three grand down the drain because I didn’t think it through properly. That’s when it hit me – you’re not designing for the kid they are now, you’re designing for all the kids they’re going to become. The six-year-old obsessed with dinosaurs turns into the twelve-year-old who’d rather die than admit he ever liked anything with cartoon characters. Then he becomes a sixteen-year-old who just wants something that doesn’t scream “my mum decorated this.”
So I started approaching these projects completely differently. Now I always begin with what I call the permanent stuff – the expensive bits you really can’t afford to rip out every time their interests change. Flooring is massive here, and I’ve become a bit obsessed with large porcelain tiles. Found these amazing ones at Topps Tiles that look like concrete but are practically bulletproof – and believe me, I’ve tested this theory. Jake once dropped a full bottle of shower gel from shoulder height and didn’t even chip them.
The thing about bigger tiles is they’ve got fewer grout lines, which means less scrubbing when things get messy. And things absolutely will get messy – I don’t know what boys do in bathrooms, but it involves getting water on every possible surface except where it’s supposed to go. Plus these tiles read as proper grown-up rather than obviously kiddie, which means they won’t look dated when he hits his teens.
Wall colour nearly did my head in when I was figuring this out. My first instinct was bright blue because, you know, boy’s bathroom. Looked at it for about five minutes in B&Q before I came to my senses. Bright colours feel overwhelming in small spaces, and they date so quickly it’s not even funny. I’ve learned to go for what Danny calls my “boring” colours – warm grays, navy that’s not too bright, sometimes a sage green if I’m feeling adventurous.
Actually tried that sage green in our spare room last year and it came out more like hospital green than the sophisticated colour I’d imagined. Had to live with it for three months before I cracked and repainted the whole thing. But in bathrooms, these muted colours work brilliantly because they hide scuffs and they grow with the kid instead of fighting against them.
The vanity is where I spend proper money now, after learning some expensive lessons. Particle board cabinets look fine in the showroom but turn into soggy cardboard the first time someone leaves the tap running. I only do solid wood or really good engineered wood now – costs more upfront but it actually lasts. For countertops, I’m completely converted to quartz. It’s nearly impossible to stain, doesn’t need sealing like marble does, and can handle whatever gets dropped on it. Found this out when Jake decided to test whether his deodorant can would bounce.
Here’s where I got clever about the personality stuff – put it in the things you can change without getting a second mortgage. Instead of themed wallpaper that costs hundreds to replace, I use removable wall decals or just go mad with the shower curtain. Thirty quid to completely change the vibe of the room versus three hundred for new wallpaper. My neighbour learned this the hard way with Spider-Man wallpaper that her son decided was “cringe” about six months after she’d spent a fortune having it professionally hung.
Storage has to actually work, not just look good in photos. Those open floating shelves everyone’s obsessed with on Instagram? Absolute nightmare in a real bathroom – everything gets dusty and damp, and it always looks messy no matter how often you tidy it. I go for proper closed storage with handles that little hands can actually grip. Medicine cabinets are brilliant for hiding all the daily chaos, and I always install at least two towel bars because one towel will definitely end up on the floor regardless.
Lighting is something I used to completely ignore until I realised how important it becomes when they hit the teenage years and suddenly care about how they look. Overhead lighting creates terrible shadows when you’re trying to see what you’re doing with skincare or shaving. I put bright LED lights on either side of the mirror now – proper daylight-balanced bulbs so they can actually see properly. Makes such a difference, and it’s not even expensive to do.
The shower stuff needs to be built like it’s going into a gym changing room. Made the mistake once of installing this gorgeous rainfall showerhead that looked amazing but had the water pressure of a leaky watering can. Jake complained for weeks that he couldn’t get the shampoo out of his hair properly. Now I test everything before I buy it, and I only go for solid brass fixtures that won’t fall apart when they get the teenage treatment.
The clever bits are actually the boring practical stuff that no one notices when it’s working right. Hooks instead of towel rings because towels actually stay up. A little step stool that slides away but is always there when needed. Motion sensor night lights for middle-of-the-night trips – no fumbling for switches in the dark. None of this stuff is glamorous, but it’s what makes the room actually function day to day.
Paint finish matters way more than I thought it would. Semi-gloss on the walls because you can wipe down toothpaste splatters and whatever else ends up there. Tried high-gloss once thinking it would be even easier to clean, but it shows every fingerprint and every tiny imperfection in the wall. Looked terrible. Ceiling gets proper moisture-resistant paint – learned that lesson in our old flat when the bathroom ceiling started growing things I didn’t want to identify.
The best result I’ve had is my mate Sarah’s bathroom that we did three years ago when her lad was nine. Kept the walls this lovely warm gray, did white subway tiles with dark grout that hides soap scum, and added personality through a geometric shower curtain and some removable wall art of his football team. He’s twelve now and still loves it. We’ve changed the artwork twice when he switched teams, and the shower curtain once when the old one finally gave up. Maybe fifty quid total in updates, and the room’s grown with him instead of working against him.
What I’ve figured out is that good design isn’t about following whatever’s trendy on Pinterest – it’s about making spaces that work for actual people living actual lives. Boys’ bathrooms need to be tough enough to handle whatever gets thrown at them, literally and figuratively. Start with quality basics that’ll last, add the fun stuff in ways you can change easily, and remember that the best bathroom is one that actually gets used properly. Even if there’s still the occasional towel on the floor – some things never change, and that’s probably fine.
