For the past few months, I've had some angst about a home improvement project. At one point I thought we were assholes.
This is where I showed you how our main bathroom in our 1952-built-home was all tore up from the floor up.
Wonder of wonders, our little bathroom now feels twice its size and is the home to the shower of my dreams. [It's not like I aim high, you know.] I no longer bump into doors when I walk into the room. That's a bonus.
It's hard to show off apples-to-apples comparisons because everything moved around except the toilet. Where the vanity was is now a cabinet. Where the bathtub was is now a vanity. Where there was wainscoting there is none. And where a weird closet was is now a shower.
The sink, after:
My old bathtub and damaged walls were replaced by a shower.
I don't know if you can see just how dreamy this shower is. My favorite things are the shower floor, and yes, a fold-out teak seat...
...because a girl needs a leg up to shave. And the seat is also, as 7-year-old Bertie says, "It's for when you get old!"
I hate decorating. My mother came over today to see the room and said, "You need to decorate it!" Yeah, yeah. I bought all the standard accessories during trips to freaking 12 stores, and I can't find shit I want to hang on the walls. La, la, la, whatever.
Thanks for going on my tour with me.