Right, so you’re stuck with a bathroom that’s basically a glorified cupboard. Been there, my friend. Last year, I helped my mate Sam sort out his place in Shoreditch—the bathroom was so tiny you could practically wash your hands while sitting on the loo. Not ideal, is it?
First thing that comes to mind—stop thinking about a separate shower tray. Honestly, they eat up space like you wouldn’t believe. Instead, go for a walk-in shower with just a slim glass panel. Or better yet, no panel at all if you can swing it. I saw this brilliant setup in a Brighton flat last summer: they’d tiled the whole bathroom floor with large, matte grey tiles and let it slope gently toward a drain in the corner. No curb, no door. Just open and airy. Felt twice the size instantly.
Oh, and the showerhead! Don’t get one of those bulky rainfall things. A sleek, wall-mounted handheld shower on a slider rail—that’s the ticket. You can adjust it as needed and it tucks away neatly. I made the mistake of buying a fixed giant showerhead for my first flat in Camden. Looked lovely in the showroom, but in practice? Water went everywhere, and the room felt claustrophobic.
Storage’s another headache. Recessed niches in the shower wall are lifesavers. No more caddies hanging off the showerhead and banging your elbow. I remember helping my cousin fit one in her Bath townhouse—we carved out a slim vertical niche next to the valve. Just deep enough for shampoo bottles, and it kept everything off the floor. Game changer.
Light colours? Obviously. But texture matters more than people think. A glossy white tile can feel clinical and cold. Try a soft, sandy-toned micro-cement or large-format matte tiles. They reflect light gently and don’t break up the space with busy grout lines. I once used a lovely peach-toned waterproof plaster in a Chelsea project—sounds bonkers, but it made the room glow in the morning light. Felt cozy, not cramped.
And don’t forget the hardware. Go for minimal, wall-mounted taps and controls. Every bit of floor space you can see makes a difference. I learned that the hard way when I tripped over a freestanding towel rack in my old en-suite. Bloody thing was more dangerous than helpful!
At the end of the day, it’s about creating the illusion of space—not just squeezing things in. Clever details, simple lines, and a bit of bravery with the layout. You’d be amazed what you can do. Sam’s shower now feels like a proper spa retreat. Well, almost. For a shoebox in East London, anyway.
Leave a Reply