Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Disappointed

So I was all set to bring you two slightly more high brow posts in quick succession, but my plans were thwarted, when on visiting the facilities in the Royal Albert Hall I found that they are the same generic toilets you get in every large arena / stadium type venue. Gutted.

That just leaves me to award a boring 2 flushes out of 5.

Monday, March 26, 2007

Soho Theatre, 21 Dean Street

Woo, look, culture! Yes Fiona's been to the theatre, not proper theatre mind, just some bloke rambling on about how he used to be an alcoholic. Still it made a change from me sitting in the pub rambling on about being an alcoholic and it gave me a chance to investigate a new genre of toilet...



As you might expect, these are toilets of the shiny variety. You may recall from somewhere further down how much I appreciate a black and white colour scheme, somehow it seems very hygenic and when the black element takes precedence also pretty damn luxurious. To demonstrate this further I've got a close-up photo of the glossy, yet textured black brick finish on the walls of the cubicles. I'd post it, but that really would be a waste of internet space.

So it's a bit of a shame that of the three cubicles I investigated (I take this seriously, you know) one had a light that didn't work and all three looked as if there had once been a coat hook on the back of the door that had since been pulled down. That probably isn't the case, but I'm so used to shoddier venues than this that I automatically assume the worst.

The story brightened in the mirror / sink area, with the gaps between the mirrors punctuated by lamps that look like little glowing spaceships. Futuristic! I also appreciated that the litter left around was not of the empty beer bottle / cigarette packet variety; no, here we see empty disposable contact lense packets. It's another world I tells you. Although, regardless of the nature of the litter, I think I'll have to remove a mark for there being litter at all. And another point lost for the akwardness I felt trying to take pictures in such an establishment without anyone noticing.

Which leaves 3 flushes out of 5

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Bradley's Spanish Bar, Hanway Street, off Oxford Street



This is one of those bars that everyone thinks of as a hidden gem, despite the fact that you seldom meet anyone who doesn’t know about it and it’s always rammed. I think it must be because it has “character” whatever that means, and also because you’re just yards away from Oxford Street but you’d never know it.

I give you this background information in a bid to explain why just as you can’t hate this pub bar I can’t be too harsh on the toilet facilities. Nevermind that they’re of a standard that would merit the loss of my patronage were they contained in another establishment, somehow here they’re just fine.

Down to business as it were, there’s only one cubicle and no room for standing about in the sink area, so if you’ve had the misfortune to come from upstairs where you can’t keep a look out to see if the toilet is free, then you have to wait around feeling like you’re intruding on other people’s conversations. Hardly ideal.

My favourite aspect is inside… we’ve found another example of sideways stable doors! I should start a special feature on them. Perhaps. And these ones fasten with a hooky latch thing. I did take a picture, but to be honest it’s rubbish and not worth me messing about with the formatting to show you. But, at least the doors lock and inside we have a good flushing action, if not a reliable stream of toilet paper.

It’s outside in the sinky area that the problems really hit home. There’s barely room to stand and let someone else enter the cubicle behind you, in fact on one occasion I smacked my head on the hand dryer in my haste to get out of the way. Although that can probably be put down to my clumsiness as much as anything else. Add to that the fact that the hot tap doesn’t work, (although I forget that every time and end up looking foolish trying to turn it on) the mirror is severely inadequate and there’s a general grimy air about the place.

All in all enough to make you try and cross your legs and wait until you get home, but like I said at the beginning, for sheer ‘aww’ factor these toilets are getting 3 flushes out of 5.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

The Friendly Society, Wardour Street, Soho

If you have to give someone directions to reach The Friendly Society (and you often do because it's one of those underground bars of which only the door is visible from the street) they would go something along the lines of "on the corner of Wardour Street and Old Compton Steet, down the little alleyway bit, next to Ann Summers." Therefore it will come as no surprise that this bar doesn't actually boast a door bearing a picture of a stick figure in a skirt. Moreover, there's a bit of a decision to make similar to the one's they used to have in Knightmare about which of the unmarked doors to go through. Ahead you'll find urinals and presumably cubicles (my research didn't extend that far) to the left is a single self contained cubicle with it's own sink.

So for the purposes of this review we're going with the spectacle to be found on the left. You might be wondering why I'm bothering with this one at all, seeing as there clearly aren'y any proper ladies facilites, but the reason is thus, I took pictures of some very nice fish tiles...

When I attended The Friendly Society a few weeks ago, some of the girls I was with were a little squeamish when using the toilets, I think this mainly stemmed from the idea that they had been used by men and there was no toilet paper with which to wipe round after them. However, I live with boys and so have learnt not to worry too much about these things and besides fish tiles trump lack of toilet paper hands down.

Paper issues aside, the actual experience of doing one's business was quite enjoyable. I always think there's something quite decadent about cubicles that have a sink bit all to themseves; you feel less likely to be interrupted because any banging on the door will be that little bit further away. Perhaps I have some kind of privacy issues stemming from childhood, or a fetish for disabled facilities, let's not dwell on that...

Anyway, about the sink bit. It's only got a bloody shaving mirror! Look >>


I have no idea why I find that so exciting, especially as I had to mess about cropping that so you couldn't see the double chin I'd given myself bending down to take the picture.


You can also see one of those ridiculous hand soap dispensers that tips up so that you pour most of it on the floor, so a loss of marks there I'm afraid.

However, the pictures (they don't happen often, so I'm going to bang on about them, ok) do demonstrate that these toilets are pretty damn bright and sparkly. And they have FISH TILES. So with that in mind, I'm going to award The Friendly Society 3 1/2 Flushes Out Of 5.

It was very nearly 4 and then I realised the tiles were swaying me too much. I need to be saved from myself.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

93 Feet East, Brick Lane

There's a certain amount of pressure comes with venturing out with people who know I write this blog; they expect that I'm going to have witty and incisive remarks to make about every toilet I go into, or at the very least an opinion.

Sometimes that just isn't the case, some ladies loos are just ok or have few stand out features. It was in this frame of mind - having to comment on something wholly unremarkable that I found myself queuing for the toilets in 93 Feet East. I was actually trying to come up with a mark before I'd even entered the cubicle, so have my sincerest apologies if this doesn't come across as entirely objective.

The initial mark I came up with was 3 out of 5, based on the scruffy, indie club-esque decor which is nice every once in a while and in keeping with the rest of the venue, but will never merit a very high reviewers score. Things improved as I spied the vast mirror space and realised that they had got the lighting just right (probably more by accident than design, but still..) and I felt that 3 was just about right.

By this time, a cubicle had become free and I reluctantly realised I was going to have to deduct marks; firstly, sin of sins, the door didn't lock - a textbook error. Next, as I tugged at the toilet roll the cover of the holder opened and fell on my head. This was in no way my fault, but it's one of those accidents that makes you feel a little bit silly even though no-one can see. To cap off my cubicle based misery there was no flushing action to be had.

No amount of preening myself in front of a well-lit mirror can make up for putting me through that experience, so I'm afraid I had to reduce to 2 flushes out of 5.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

The Old Blue Last, Shoreditch

Ok, these toilets are shit. You know they're shit. I know they're shit. And neither of us expected any different, given that this is one of those old man boozers made trendy for no other reason than it has been decreed so.

You really don't want to sit down. You make sure your foot is wedged against the door to keep it closed. And I'm not even sure it's worth the trauma of washing your hands.

In fact, I wouldn't even bother with this review if it weren't for the fact that I've just configured the bluetooth on my mum's laptop and I had some photos of the toilets on my phone, just in case I ever felt moved to write a review.

So here you go...




Poor quality I know, but I've never really got to grips with the technology and I have a shit phone. This is a special treat for you, so don't expect any more any time soon.

And I think it goes without saying 1½ flushes out of 5. The extra ½ is because I quite like the graffitti picture.

Hoxton Bar & Kitchen, err Hoxton Square

I can't believe I didn't think of it before, I mean it's so obvious and absolutely perfect. All toilets in bars and for that matter all domestic bathrooms should be decorated with black and white tiles. It's timeless and gives a feeling of class without making you afraid of splashing water everywhere. Genius!

So yes, you get the picture, the decor in the ladies here is monochrome and shiny monochrome at that. The shininess is made all the more impressive by the slightly overharsh lighting which as regular readers will know is usually the cardinal sin of ladies facilities. However at Hoxton thingie and thingie the lights and the whiteness and the blackness somehow make for a beacon of tranquility in the scary haired world of Hoxditch.

But before I'm blinded by the light (revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night) I musn't forget to credit the plentiful and spacious cubicles (usually you have to settle for one or the other) and the roomy none-cubicle area. You can pace up and down in comfort whilst making that desperately important in-bar phonecall when your mates haven't turned up and you want to look popular. That's actually just me isn't it. Except that it's not that no-one's turned up, it's just that I went out on my own...

There is a fabulous full length mirror, but the positioning is more than a little inconvenient. It's to the left of the sinks, so if there's anyone else washing their hands they're either in your way or you're likely to get in theirs. It really does frustrate me when these details haven't been thought through.

One other minor criticism, if you go in during the afternoon, they quite often haven't filled up the toilet roll dispensers which can be unpleasant, but it's always rectified by the evening.

At first I got a bit carried away and was going to make this a 4 and a half review, but in light of the mirror thing and the fact that I don't really like this bar very much I'm knocking it down to 4 flushes out of 5.