I found some old pictures this week, and among them was this beauty.
When PL and I lived in a tiny tiny apartment near Washington, DC, this was our fabulous bathroom. Our neighbor downstairs had a pink version, and I suspect in other parts of the building there might have been mustard and cocoa colored ones, and perhaps even a chartreuse one. The fact that it was in such good condition considering it dated back to when things were made this color is a testament to the building’s owner and his overall decency.
When I mention we had a blue bathroom in our old apartment, I suspect that people don’t quite grasp the fact that EVERYTHING was blue. I was always glad that we didn’t end up with the pink one, but the gay man downstairs said the pink was “jazzy.”
That was our first apartment together, and despite it being unbearably cold in the winter, miserably hot in the summer, a whopping 665 square feet, and next door to a house that hosted Panamanian pentecostal church in it’s basement late at night, I cried when we moved out.