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I pity men for not being able to experience the girls’ bathroom. It’s like a universal secret club where we share female happiness, while men are left wading through the grime and grease of their own sorry rooms, oblivious to the wonders of the girls’ side. It seems to be a running joke that women always go to the bathroom in groups. The reality is that we want to share the bathrooms with each other. And you know why? Because it’s the best place ever.
Every night out, the lavatories transform from a cold and dingy tiled room to a shining example of why we are definitely the fairer sex. Earth’s most pressing issues and dramatic problems can be solved by a twenty-something girl in a nightclub loo. The ladies’ is some sort of alternate dimension, where we all transform into our absolute best selves.
Our inhibitions surrounding intimacy, affection, and our most intense emotions are thrown out the window, as well as our prejudices, judgements and any other mean thoughts rattling around in our brains. What’s left is the absolute good of our souls – we walk into those cubicles completely open and ready to spread the love.
Many a girls’ life crises, relationship troubles and/or friend dramas have been solved in bathrooms before they’re sent off through the door with a hug, a good laugh and a new drink in her hand for good measure. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve entered the women’s’ bathroom with a problem, left with the advice of at least five other women and, as a result, five new mates that I can count on for a dance later in the evening.
The unconditional love and maternal instincts of women in the ladies’ is not the only thing that draws a crowd, mind you. Fashion advice, beauty routines and your best side for a selfie is shared freely and happily, meaning that girls leave the bathroom crowd more put together and, importantly, more confident than when they entered.
A particular example that stands out in my mind was when a small woman showed me how to add volume to my hair by blasting it with the hand dryer so that “I’d go out and get a good man”. I was very appreciative, if a little confused, but the point is that my hair looked great.
If we all tried to emulate our bathroom selves a little more; if we were a little more compassionate, more open and giving and more game for a laugh, I’m convinced the world would be a brighter and happier place (much like the dancefloor we emerge onto after our bathroom visits). Turns out the answer to the world’s problems lay in the ladies’ all along. Who knew?
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