Privy, loo, water closet, spa.... whatever name your bathroom goes by, no doubt it has a special place in your heart.
Years ago I was soaking in the bathtub in our old apartment when I noticed that the drain plate was staring at me. The arrangement of the screw heads on the round metal plate made for an oddly expressive face, and it was one that wouldn't take its eyes off me. So we stared at one another for a few minutes and I pretty quickly forgot all about whatever it was that had made me retreat to the bath for a soak in the first place.
(pic: Bathroom Face by rocktoklezmer)
When we moved, we traded that earnest face for a bathroom with a window (which was high on my wish list) and we never looked back. But even now when I take a bath I often smile at the memory of the bathroom where I had no privacy.
In a lot of unrenovated SF Victorians the bathroom was tacked on to the back of the building near the kitchen, an architectural afterthought that can make you curse your bladder on middle-of-the-night treks. In other apartments the bathroom is more centrally located, and civilly divided into a WC and a bathing/washing room. And still others have the luxury of a jacuzzi on the rooftop or in the backyard. Travel up to a spa in Sonoma or Napa and you'll really see what a NoCal bathoom can be.
What makes your heart sing in the loo? Tip us.
For more faces in strange places, see the work of Francois and Jean Robert.