Ranting about shower curtains for no particular reason

I was at a family member's house for a nice holiday cookout over the Labor Day weekend.  I was enjoying myself until I had occasion to visit her bathroom.  Here, I discovered a problem that is becoming more and more widespread.  Shower curtains. Her shower curtain was too long.

It's been years since I lived in a house or apartment that had a proper curtain rod.  When I was growing up, curtain rods were fixtures, seriously and securely affixed to the wall, through the tile, with strong-looking screws.  They were attached at the perfect height.  Shower curtain liners hung well inside the tub, without touching the bottom of the tub and the curtain never draped its hem along the floor.

But nowadays most tubs are being replaced with those tub kits that have the wraparound walls to match. Above that is painted, or papered wall, not tile.  These tub forms are too slippery to hold an extension rod - you know, the kind with springs inside that can be adjusted in length to fit the space.  They often won't stay in place on the wall, either.  So, the only secure place for the rod is resting on the top of the tub form walls.  This makes your shower curtain several inches too long.

I have had to cut plastic shower curtains to avoid tripping over them in the tub.  But with a nice, fabric curtain, you'd have to hem it.  Shower curtains don't come in different lengths, they are all made for the tubs and rods of yesteryear.

Would it be that much trouble to make curtains in two lengths?  Would it be wrong to tile bathrooms again?  Let's face it, most new bathrooms are designed with tile only on the floor.  Tile is apparently passé.

And even though a shower curtain that wraps around your feet while you try to shower creates a hazardous, albeit nicely decorative, situation ( remember, most home accidents happen in the bathroom), no one except me will bother to whine and complain about this situation.

Chacun A Son Gout

One of my favorite phrases is the French "chacun à son goût" or basically, "each to his own taste". However, the good old American "there's no accounting for taste" better fits my current decor.

Each and every room is wallpapered except the bathrooms and the kitchen. I have nothing against any of these wallpapers, most are of excellent quality and the designs are tasteful and quiet. Very quiet. Inaudible. That's really the problem. They are all variations on a theme of white background with nearly invisible shades of blush, pink or more white with a hint of silver. Any and all of them would be lovely in a little girl's bedroom, or Barbie's bedroom. The wallpaper that graces the front hallway and stairway looks like Barbie's bridal shower wrapping paper.

All this quiet elegance has a sameness and understatement that is coma-inducing. These great walls leading to impossibly high ceilings are covered in bridal gift wrap.

So, when The Girl decided her room should be painted a garishly bright pink and the doors should have zebra striping, I agreed much more readily than I might normally. And I am glad I did.

The Girl's room is like an ice-cold energy drink after an exhausting workout. It's like jumping into the cold Atlantic on a hot summer day. It's refreshingly not shades of white and silver.

There's color. Lots of it. Teen girl color, admittedly, but color.

I now look forward with heightened anticipation to all the new coats of paint of whatever color that we manage to slap on any walls in whatever part of the house. My eyes, which were slipping into a state of ennui, will be grateful for the stimulation.

And as for the garish pink, well, chacun à son goût, I always say.