I swear, if I see one more bathroom that looks like it was designed by someone who thinks masculinity comes in a paint tin labelled “charcoal grey,” I might actually lose it. You know the type – everything’s dark, industrial, covered in fake rust, with those Edison bulbs hanging everywhere like Christmas decorations for people who hate joy. It’s like someone decided that men can only feel comfortable surrounded by surfaces that remind them of a Victorian factory.
The whole thing drives me absolutely mad because it’s so… performative? Like, who decided that having a nice bathroom somehow threatens your masculinity? When did we all agree that men’s spaces have to look like film sets for gritty crime dramas?
This has been bothering me for ages, but it really hit home when my mate Sarah was telling me about her boyfriend’s bathroom renovation. He’d spent thousands making it look like an underground cocktail bar, complete with exposed copper pipes and black subway tiles that probably required a degree in engineering to clean properly. She said walking into it felt like being trapped in someone’s very expensive midlife crisis.
The thing is, I’ve been in loads of these “masculine” bathrooms through friends, family, even when we were house hunting before we found our place in Dunstable. They all follow the same boring blueprint – dark everything, harsh lighting, materials that scream “I’m definitely heterosexual and probably own power tools.” It’s exhausting. And honestly? Most of them look terrible once you get past the initial “oh, this is very… manly” reaction.
Take my brother-in-law Dave’s bathroom in his flat near Milton Keynes. When he first moved in, he went full industrial chic – black tiles, metal fixtures, lighting that made everyone look like they were being interrogated. Cost him a fortune and looked exactly like every other “masculine” bathroom I’d ever seen. But here’s the thing – it was horrible to actually use. Dark tiles show every water spot, the lighting was so harsh you couldn’t see properly to do anything, and the whole space felt like a cave. Not exactly relaxing when you’re trying to have a bath after dealing with a toddler all day.
So when he asked for my help redoing it last year (apparently his girlfriend Emma had been dropping hints that it felt like using a public toilet in a trendy restaurant), we completely started over. And I mean completely – none of this “let’s just add some warmer lighting and call it done” nonsense.
First thing we did was paint the walls. I know, revolutionary concept – but instead of the expected navy or charcoal or whatever, we went with this gorgeous warm white. Not stark white, not magnolia, but this creamy colour that actually has some life to it. Dave was convinced it would look boring, but honestly? It made the space feel twice as big and actually pleasant to be in.
The floor was our next rebellion against bathroom masculinity rules. Everyone expects dark stone or concrete or something equally grim, right? We found these beautiful wide oak planks – properly sealed for bathroom use, obviously, I’m not completely mad – and they transformed the whole feel of the room. Warm underfoot, ages beautifully, and looks expensive without trying too hard.
For the vanity, we completely ignored every “masculine bathroom” Pinterest board in existence and found this stunning vintage chest of drawers from a reclamation place near Luton. Painted it in sage green – similar to the colour I used in our bedroom, actually, it’s just such a calming shade – and topped it with a thick slab of white marble. The basin is simple white ceramic, nothing fancy, but the whole combination feels sophisticated without being show-offy.
Dave was worried the green would look feminine, which honestly made me want to bang my head against the wall. Since when is an entire colour off-limits to half the population? It’s a colour, not a personality trait. But once we got it installed, even he admitted it looked incredible – grown-up and calming and nothing like the industrial warehouse vibe he’d had before.
The lighting was where we really broke some rules. Those exposed bulb pendant things that every “masculine” bathroom seems legally required to have? They’re awful. Harsh, unflattering, and frankly quite ugly once you get past the initial novelty. Instead, we put in proper sconces on either side of the mirror – brass ones with fabric shades that actually make you look human instead of like you’re auditioning for a zombie film.
And then – brace yourself – we added a small chandelier. Yes, in a man’s bathroom. It’s nothing massive or fussy, just a simple brass and glass piece we found in a vintage shop, but the reaction from people when they see it is brilliant. They do this little double-take like they can’t quite process that a bathroom can be both masculine and beautiful.
The mirror runs nearly floor to ceiling because Dave’s quite tall and I was so sick of seeing bathrooms with mirrors positioned for people my height. It’s frameless, so it doesn’t feel too decorative, but it makes the space feel enormous and actually functional for someone over six foot.
Storage was all floating oak shelves matching the floor. They hold books (yes, books in the bathroom – get over it), some plants that absolutely love the humidity, and Dave’s collection of expensive grooming products displayed like they’re actually worth showing off. Which they are – if you’re spending money on nice things, why hide them in a cupboard?
The shower area was our biggest expense but absolutely worth it. Large white marble tiles with subtle grey veining instead of the expected dark everything. The screen is clear glass with minimal hardware, so it almost disappears. And we built in a marble bench along one wall, which sounds fancy but is actually incredibly practical – somewhere to sit, store bottles, or just put your towel that isn’t the floor.
All the towels are white. Fluffy, hotel-quality white towels that make everything else in the room look more expensive. Dave initially wanted dark grey ones because apparently white towels are feminine (seriously, the things people decide are gendered), but I convinced him that white just looks more luxurious. Plus they’re easier to keep properly clean and replace when they get grotty.
The final touch was plants everywhere. A fiddle leaf fig in the corner that absolutely loves the steamy environment, snake plants on the shelves, a small orchid on the vanity. Nothing says “I’m an actual adult with my life together” like plants that are thriving instead of slowly dying in the corner.
The whole project took about two months because we were working around Dave’s shifts and weekend availability, and cost around £5,000 including labour. Not cheap, but not ridiculous either. The marble was the biggest single expense, but we saved loads by doing all the painting ourselves and hunting around reclamation yards instead of buying everything from fancy showrooms.
The reaction has been fascinating. A few of Dave’s mates seemed genuinely confused by the light colours and “fancy” touches like the chandelier. But most people just keep saying how calm and expensive it feels. Emma said it was the first boyfriend’s bathroom she’d ever actually enjoyed using, which I think might be the best review possible.
What really struck me about the whole project is how much more Dave actually uses the space now. Before, it was purely functional – get in, get out, don’t linger. Now he’ll have proper baths, takes his time getting ready, even brings his coffee in there while he’s shaving. It’s become somewhere he enjoys being instead of just somewhere he has to go.
I think that’s what’s missing from all these aggressively masculine bathroom designs – they’re so focused on making a statement about masculinity that they forget to actually be nice places to spend time. Real confidence doesn’t need to shout about itself through your choice of bathroom tiles. Sometimes the most sophisticated thing you can do is just create a beautiful, calming space and let that speak for itself.
