When my grandparents built a small cottage on their farm for my great grandmother—Irene Gibson, newly widowed —they designed it with luxury and comfort in mind. The main bathroom was as large as any of the bedrooms. The marble floor was cool beneath my bare feet, and it took at least a dozen paces to reach the sink. One wall was lined with cabinetry and a vanity, while a generous corner held a deep soaking tub. What I remember most vividly were the black-and-white photographs of people surrounding the tub: in gowns, at parties, perched in cars, usually holding long cigarettes in nimble, flirtatious fingers.
At the time, and in that setting, it was unusual to find a wall of photographs like this, quietly beckoning people into a personal sanctuary. I thought it was brilliant of her—elevating a clearly utilitarian space into something memorable. To me, that bathroom remains the gold standard, and it has deeply influenced the way I like to decorate this space.
While kitchens have enjoyed the spotlight at parties, where guests inevitably gather and conversations stretch long into the evening--bathrooms too have their own unique allure. It may seem surprising, but these intimate spaces can be unexpected showcases for art and personality.
I can't put my finger on a photo of my great grandmother's bathroom, but the picture below from Sofia Martha sparked my memory. Click here to read the article.
While this lovely English bathroom is "paneled" in art...
I love the spartan washroom below with just a few nautical artworks casually placed along the wainscot.
Two portraits flank the bathtub in the photo below.
Still life's can also enliven the loo. Lemon House, a painting I just finished, looks lovely over our old tub.
(In days gone by, a family portrait hung there.)
And to further underscore my point about using art in the loo, Gordon Gregory's photo of my current guest bathroom shows a period portrait of a gentleman. Not eery at all to me. You?
Some of my newer pieces are displayed below. I love pairing the image I’ve painted with a complimentary vintage frame. Let me know if any of them strike your fancy. I believe art belongs everywhere—and its impact is best where you least expect it.
