The London Review of Toilets

Whitechapel Gallery, E1

I leave my incredibly filling arancini ball half eaten in the gallery cafe, and make my way downstairs past signs telling me to be Quiet, Please. It’s like being backstage somewhere, but the toilets are the stage. The stage lightning is theatrical - like evening light, gentle and monastic. But maybe one of the bulbs is broken. 

The ceiling is on a slant. It’s a relaxing space, like being inside a tent. You look up and see a ventilation grill. It feels as though you could set a science fiction film in here, though in terms of practicality you almost definitely couldn’t.

I wash my hands. The mirror is flattering, the paper towels soft. 

Hornsey Library, N8

I couldn’t browse the Fiction section in peace. Something was bothering me. I needed a piss. Hornsey Library is a listed building, making these architecturally significant toilets. The (and I’ve Googled this, so I think it’s right) terrazzo floor runs through into the gents, where the walls have also been tiled in a nice jade-green colour. A black marble platform sits beneath the urinals and you wash your hands with a silky pink soap that smells, not unpleasantly, of mothballs. It could almost be 1965 were I not checking my phone for new emails. Yet the bordering-on-Mad-Men feel never quite happens thanks to some recent renovations - a plastic cubicle wall, a wonky plastic toilet seat - done on a tighter budget.*  A shame.

*And I suppose it is a public toilet in a library, so my expectations were a bit unrealistic 

Saatchi Gallery, SW3 

The cubicle doors lock with a satisfying, solid clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. (I tried it three times because it was such a joy.) Then I saw the double-headed coat hook and I knew these were toilets I could do business with/in (I did). There’s a quality to the fittings that you rarely get in public toilets or semi-public toilets (I suppose Charles Saatchi pays for the toilet rolls and things). When it’s over there are soft paper towels to dry your hands and there’s even a poster of a cat on the wall. It really does have everything.

LEON, Spitalfields Market

Another unisex toilet. Definitely a unisex toilet, despite the confused look I got from a girl who came in as I was drying my hands. “It’s a unisex toilet,” I tried to convey through a series of non-verbal hand drying signals. It’s a place where men and women can stand side-by-side, each enjoying a belfast sink to themselves. 

“But what about the coat hooks?” That’s a very good question (well remembered from previous posts). Let me say this: There are TWO coat hooks per-cubicle, each of the ‘octopus wants a fight’ style we’ve come to know from The Internet. 

A pleasure to use your toilet, Leon. 

Hayward Gallery, Southbank

You have to pay to see the David Shrigley exhibition. But the toilets are free. Think of them as a separate exhibition where the toilet and basin are installations. These are unisex toilets. One day I hope everything will be unisex, so the Hayward Gallery’s toilets are a bridge to making that dream a reality. Anyway, all is well within apart from a lack of a single coat hook. Sure you can hang a bag from the door handle, but where’s that coat going to go? Precariously balanced somewhere is the sorry answer. And there are baby changing facilities if you’re not happy with your baby and want to exchange it for a new one.

Museum of London, EC2Y

“Half the excitement is getting there!” said the girl. Her boyfriend agreed, but I don’t think either of them were being serious. Still, getting to the Museum of London does involve the navigation of some roundabouts and a raised walkway. It feels like a futuristic voyage to a toilet. A toilet from an ideal world.

Alas, no. It is not a toilet from an ideal world. The cubicles feel like school toilets. They feel temporary, too functional. It isn’t a place to sit and think or read. But at least the coat hooks are still there. Reassuring.

I soaped my hands then placed them underneath the tap. A sign told me that the water would be on its way. But I waited for what felt like eleven hours*. I tried the next tap. Still no water. (I started to have flashbacks to the time I soaped my hands on a Virgin Pendolino, only to discover that the water tap was out of order. After a two-carriage search for a working tap I gave up, and had to ask for some mineral water in the buffet carriage.) Anyway, with a genuine sense of relief I was able to rinse off the soap after trying the third tap. Water, it was good to see you again.

*But what I later realised must have been about 10 seconds.

Natural History Museum, South Kensington

No dinosaurs in the toilets, just some fairly ugly tiling and fluorescent strip lighting. A wasted opportunity. The urinals seem unusually low, maybe as a nod to all the school parties popping in. There’s also a choice of sink heights: medium and low (perhaps a wheelchair-friendly thing). But apart from a solid choice of hand dryer (Xlerator) it’s all very unremarkable. 

Westfield Shopping Centre, Shepherds Bush

A number of toilets are hidden away in Westfield. Finding any of them is like winning a prize. The prize is that you get to have a piss. But first you must queue, and there is always a queue. It’s an unremarkable toilet, but it showcases many of the features we’ve come to expect from mall toilets: doorless entry, automated flush, and Dyson Airblades. It’s Where We Are Now with toilets, the public toilet of 2012: a bit soulless, a bit lacking in a cold water tap, but basically alright.

Serpentine Gallery, Hyde Park

Another gallery toilet. You expect it to be clean, and generally it is. Does it have a gallery feel? Sort of. It’s a calming, if slightly cramped space. A place to think? No, but a good place to pee. It also scores points for having slightly narrow, nicely textured sinks, each with a well-chosen chrome soap dispenser. Little details. But there’s also a coat hook missing from one the cubicles. Where do all these coat hooks go? Little details.

Guest Reviews

To redress the male toilet imbalance, I shall be re-blogging some reviews of female toilets from the sister blog http://dressonthedoor.tumblr.com/.