The first time I stayed in a decent hotel during a school trip to Edinburgh, I spent way too long in the shower. Not because I was enjoying some spa moment – I was just genuinely confused by how good it felt. Massive glass doors, water that hit you from multiple angles, steam everywhere. Made me realise the shower in my flat was basically a glorified cupboard with a tap in it.
I’d been living with this awful corner unit for about three years, the kind you get in budget bathroom suites where you have to do some sort of yoga pose just to wash your hair properly. The door didn’t seal properly so water leaked everywhere, the single shower head had the pressure of a disappointed garden sprinkler, and the whole thing was maybe two feet by two feet. Functional, I suppose, but absolutely grim.
My girlfriend had been dropping hints for months. Well, not hints exactly – more like direct complaints about how rubbish our bathroom was. She wasn’t wrong, but I kept putting it off because teacher salary plus mortgage doesn’t leave much room for major renovations. Plus I genuinely didn’t know where to start or what was actually worth spending money on.
The turning point came when the shower door finally gave up completely. Just fell off its track one Tuesday morning while I was trying to get ready for work. Standing there in my towel, looking at this broken door and puddle on the floor, I thought right, that’s enough. Time to sort this properly.
I spent weeks researching what makes a shower actually good rather than just acceptable. Turns out size is massive – and I mean that literally. Standard shower trays are about 800mm square, which is fine if you’re built like a twelve-year-old. But for a proper adult shower, you want at least 1200mm by 900mm. Sounds obvious when you think about it, but I’d never actually measured our old one. When I did, it was barely 700mm. No wonder I felt like I was washing in a phone box.
We had just enough space to go bigger without completely reconfiguring the bathroom layout. Ended up with a 1400mm by 900mm tray, which meant I could actually turn around without my elbows hitting the walls. Revolutionary stuff, honestly. My girlfriend was sceptical about losing floor space, but once we tried it, she admitted it felt like a completely different room.
The shower head situation required some proper research. I’d always assumed they were basically the same, just different shapes. Wrong. Spent far too much time reading reviews and watching YouTube videos about water pressure and spray patterns. Eventually went for this rainfall head that’s about 250mm across, mounted in the ceiling so the water comes straight down. Feels like standing under actual rain, but warm and with consistent pressure.
Added a handheld one as well on a slide rail, which I thought might be overkill but has turned out brilliant for rinsing hair properly and cleaning the shower itself. Got one with about six different settings – there’s this massage one that’s perfect when my back’s killing me from spending too long marking homework at the kitchen table.
The real game-changer though was adding body jets. Three of them positioned at different heights on the back wall. I’ll be honest, I thought this was going a bit far – we’re not trying to build a spa, just a decent shower. But the plumber convinced me they weren’t much extra work to install, and after living with them for over a year now, I can’t imagine not having them. They hit pressure points you didn’t know were tense, especially after long days dealing with Year 9s.
Water temperature was becoming a proper issue in our building. Old Victorian conversion means the plumbing’s a bit hit and miss – you’d be having a nice shower then someone would run a tap downstairs and you’d either get scalded or frozen. Invested in this thermostatic valve that maintains whatever temperature you set regardless of what’s happening elsewhere. Cost about £350 but has prevented countless morning disasters.
I was tempted by a steam generator after seeing one at a friend’s house, but couldn’t justify the cost for something I might use occasionally. Did upgrade the ventilation though – put in a proper powerful fan that runs automatically and continues for half an hour after you leave. Boring but essential, especially in a flat where damp can become a real problem.
For the walls, I wanted something that looked good but didn’t require constant maintenance. Natural stone looks amazing but needs regular sealing and can be slippery. Went with large porcelain tiles that look like marble but are practically indestructible. Minimal grout lines mean less cleaning, which matters when you’re working full-time and trying to maintain a relationship.
Lighting inside the shower was something I nearly forgot about until the electrician mentioned it. Single overhead bulb creates harsh shadows and makes everything feel like a hospital. Added LED strips behind some frosted glass panels – gives this soft, even light that actually makes you want to spend time in there rather than rush through.
The built-in bench was my one indulgent addition. Do you really need somewhere to sit in your shower? Probably not. Is it brilliant for everything from shaving to just sitting under the body jets when you’ve had a particularly awful day with parents’ evening? Absolutely. Had it tiled to match the walls so it looks integrated rather than like an afterthought.
Storage needed thinking through properly. Those corner shelves you stick on with suction cups are rubbish – they fall off constantly and look terrible. Had three recessed niches built into the wall at different heights. One for everyday stuff, one for the things you use occasionally, and one positioned perfectly for the handheld shower head when you’re not using it.
The glass screen made a bigger difference than I expected. Went with 10mm thick glass rather than the standard 6mm, and you can feel the quality immediately. It’s got proper weight to it, closes with a satisfying thunk rather than that tinny rattle you get with cheap screens. More expensive, but worth every penny for something you use twice a day.
Heated floors seemed excessive when the installer suggested them, but they’ve turned out to be brilliant. Nothing worse than stepping from a hot shower onto freezing tiles, especially during winter mornings when you’re already reluctant to get out of bed. The system cost about £400 to install and adds maybe £20 a year to the electricity bill.
The whole project took about six weeks during summer holidays, which was perfect timing because I could actually be there to make decisions and fix problems as they came up. Total cost was around £4,500, which felt enormous at the time but has genuinely improved daily life in a way I didn’t expect.
My morning routine’s completely different now. What used to be a quick, functional wash has become something I actually enjoy. Sounds ridiculous, but starting each day in what feels like your own private retreat rather than a cramped cubicle makes everything else feel more manageable. Even marking Year 8 geography tests seems less awful when you’ve started the day properly relaxed.
The one thing I’d do differently is plan the whole thing during Easter holidays instead of summer – trying to coordinate tradespeople around school schedules is tricky, but doing major renovation work when it’s properly hot and all the windows are open constantly isn’t ideal either.
Would I do it again? Absolutely. Best money I’ve spent on the flat, and I include the kitchen renovation in that comparison. You use your shower every single day – if you’re going to invest in making one part of your home properly good rather than just adequate, this is the place to do it.
