Showing posts with label Tiles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tiles. Show all posts

Monday, 6 June 2016

In a Pretty Pickle

We're not saying we haven't been productive today. We're just saying we have spent most of the day carpeing the diem in no uncertain manner, and, having wrapped ourselves round a bottle of cava, a bottle of rosé, and some beer we forgot to pay for, we are now rather woozy and inclined to sentimentality.

We may or may not have mentioned Lunds studentskegård in a previous post. This Lund institution has provided accommodation for women students of limited means since 1938. A donation had originally been made to erect a building to provide accommodation for male students, but Lunds Kvinnliga Studentförening, the women students' society, entered on a campaign of petitioning to make the accommodation one for women students instead.

The reason for the women students' society's energetic campaigning was, simply, that there was no accommodation available for women students in Sweden in the 1920s and 1930s. Women had gained the right to study at university (except of course law and theology, because God forbid women should end up in positions of authority) in Sweden round about the 1870s, but women students were still viewed with suspicion. A woman living on her own must, according to the mores of the day, be promiscuous and immoral, and the city's landladies hesitated to take women lodgers.

To make a long story short, a university lecturer called Asta Kihlbom, who was chairwoman of the women students' society, took it upon herself to make accommodation for women students become a reality. Thanks to Kihlbom's unremitting arse-kicking, Lunds studentskegård was built in 1937, and the first tenants moved in during 1938. Women students now had a safe and clean environment, with mixer taps, in which to live and study.

A collaborative, democratic spirit reigned from the outset, and still does. Solidarity was an important concept to the early women students, and arrangements were made for visiting scholars to stay at Studentskegården for a modest fee. Indeed, simple but clean accommodation is still available to friends and fellow academics.

We learned today (before we got drunk, and while we were still academically productive) that the green-tiled shower room in the basement at Studentskegården was in fact made available, in the early days, to women students who were in accommodation elsewhere in the city, but whose landladies wouldn't let them hang up their washing (as we all know, female undergarments are inherently shameful, if not downright dangerous) or even use the bath. We have no citeable source on this information, but Audiologist Friend heard it from somebody whose name we can't remember, so we are taking it as gospel. Anyway, look how pretty and clean the shower room is! The mixer tap inspires such confidence, don't you think? Woof!


The stylish green-tiled shower room at Lunds studentskegård, made available to women students who had no access to washing facilities.
An unintentionally hilarious newspaper article about Lunds studentskegård from 1941 bears the headline "While the Bachelor of Arts irons, the Bachelor of Medicine pickles eggs". The notion of women academics living together and cooking their own food was hugely confusing to almost everyone in the 1930s and '40s.

Women were classified as either housewife material, in which case ironing and pickling eggs were suitable activities, or as society hostess material, in which case they were not. Women students, who would potentially make careers and earn their own keep (although the article, mentioned above and pictured below, cites the women students saying coyly that "the sewing machine has been made to make several trousseaus - the girls are busy getting married at this place!"), transcended the traditional classifications, which is why this newspaper felt the need to explain their activities to its readers.

When Studentskegården was still in the planning stages, the issue of whether to install kitchens caused an actual, bona-fide furore, with one phalanx arguing that students, even if they happened to be female, had no business in a kitchen, and another phalanx retorting that women of limited means, even if they happened to be students, might find it useful to have access to a kitchen and not have to eat every meal out. In the end the pro-kitchen party won.

An unintentionally hilarious newspaper article from 1941

Students in the communal kitchen they almost didn't get, in 1941

Students enjoying the lush garden surrounding Studentskegården, in the spring of 1943.
We might have spent the afternoon in this garden, drinking wine like there is no tomorrow.

The article reproduced (in very poor quality - our apologies) above ends by wondering whether, if Studentskegården were ever to produce a Great Woman, she would be "a Madame Curie or a Cajsa Warg" (a legendary cook - like a Swedish Mrs Beeton but a century earlier).
In the end it turned out she was a historian. Birgitta Odén, Sweden's first female history professor and Lund University's first female professor, lived at Lunds studentskegård in the 1940s. If Odén hadn't had access to safe, intellectually inspiring accommodation, Sweden would probably have had to wait a couple of decades longer before it got a female history professor.

Time for a Festive Video! Our day has basically been like this, except we weren't at the beach, and our friends wore more clothes.


Festive Video - Little Big Town, Day Drinking


Related Reading
All posts featuring Lund
All posts featuring Audiologist Friend
Posts featuring tiles

Wednesday, 15 April 2015

Failing to Be Disappointed: Tudor Friend's Tudor-Era House

The awesome thing about being a battle-hardened, misanthropic old pessimist is that every now and then, people will fail to disappoint you. The unexpected lack of disappointment will cause a cavalry regiment of champagne-swilling endorphins, unknown to the credulous optimist, to come charging into your brain, sabres waving, helmets askew. Tally-ho! they will roar, while riding round and round in triumph, waving standards and letting fly balloons. This is just the law of averages.

For instance, one might be overwhelmed by a lack of disappointment when the kind W H Smith employee at Birmingham airport offers to post one's postcards for one when one has realised one has forgotten and there is no postbox in the airport, meaning one's favourite 96-year-old will get one's missive after all.
One might be heartened when a dangerous-looking young man, who one is secretly praying won't stab one in the eye, makes an exquisitely polite after-you gesture at one when one is negotiating one's way through a doorway.
Or one might go visit Tudor Friend for a cheese-and-Jane-Austen-orgy and find that she really does live in a Tudor-era house, and it looks like this:

Inside Tudor Friend's bathroom!
Hooks! Wooden beams! Woof!
A somewhat blurry close-up (blame the 47 different kinds of booze in Tudor Friend's liquor cabinet)
of the delightful, old-fashioned door-lock.
This photo is taken from outside one toilet, looking towards the other.

Tudor Friend suspects that these are original 18th-century Dutch tiles.
Like these ones! Or these!

The tiles would appear to illustrate the life of that notorious cheese-loving saint, St Hoojar.

This is the view from the spare bedroom! Huzzah!

The outside of the house is alright, we suppose.

Do you feel soothed, consoled, and invigorated? We sure as hell do!

Now for a festive video - let's hear Dolly Parton describing the first time she used a flush toilet! (Many thanks to Jezebel.) Please pardon the vulgar illustrations - we didn't make them. 

Festive video - Dolly Parton Getting Dirty

Related Reading
If you, too adore beautiful tiles, more are found here:
Blogging Something Rotten
We Receive a Postcard
All posts about Tudor Friend
If you're into historical plumbing, we've got posts about medieval plumbing and Roman plumbing

Sunday, 28 July 2013

We Receive a Postcard

We received a postcard. The kind of postcard that reminds one that everyone has to accept the consequences of their actions. We write a blog about toilets. Ergo, we receive toilet-related postcards. Isn't that great!
This particular postcard depicts the Ireton bathroom at Packwood House, Warwickshire. Tudor Friend (for that's who the postcard was from) writes:
Greetings from the Land That Mixer-Taps Forgot! I've been out playing skulking tourist again and, for once, a place I visited had a postcard of the bathroom! It is quite a pretty bathroom; enough Delft tile to cover the Netherlands, for starters. The best part is that they'd put a disturbingly large, yet of a size to potentially be real, fake spider in the tub - I presume its purpose is to discourage marauding children from climbing in.
[...] Despite the very sort of Edwardian bathroom, the house is actually more Tudor - the sort where its core is authentic, and much of its furnishing is of the period but scrounged from other properties being demolished in the '30s and '40s (ed's note: heinous, heinous crimes!). Funny how no-one ever feels the need to harmonize the loo by recycling an old Tudor bog... (At the other house I saw today, they'd converted the medieval toilet and shit-chute into a priest's hole for hiding during the messy days of Reformation. They were not 100 % sure it had actually ceased to be used as a loo at the time, but I sincerely hope, for the guys who were down there, that it had!)

The Ireton bathroom, Packwood House.
Apparently Cromwell's general Henry Ireton spent the night at Packwood House
before the Battle of Edgehill in 1642. We trust he had a pleasant stay.

We are simultaneously delighted and bemused by this spout.
Is it a lion-shaped mixer-tap?
Image from katyboo1.

Close-up of the pretty Delft tiles.
Image from flickr.

Does this bathroom remind us of anything? Of course it does! It reminds us of Christian IV's bathroom at Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen!

In other news, Tudor Friend has been busy making plans for World Toilet Day. This auspicious day, in case you didn't know, has been made official by the UN. If ever there was a cause to rejoice, this is it! World Toilet Day was created to highlight the fact that millions of people worldwide suffer from diseases that are easily preventable by simple hygiene measures, like access to clean water and safe toilets. Tudor Friend suggests making "Toilet Day greeting cards to send to friends, and cake toppers for our celebratory cupcakes". A smashing good idea, as far as we're concerned! To see suggestions for Toilet Day card designs, check out our Facebook or Twitter page.

Related Reading
World Toilet Day-Related
The Gates Foundation (funds projects for better water, sanitation and hygiene)
Toilet Twinning
WaterAid
Oxfam Unwrapped: Safe Water for Ten People (a hot Christmas gift tip!)
Related Privy Counsel Posts
Blogging Something Rotten
The Historic Toilet Tour of York

Sunday, 14 October 2012

Blogging Something Rotten

Phew! What a week it's been! You must be fed up with staring at Eminem's face (or rather arse) from the last post, a whole week ago! We've got good news for you, though. It seems everyone's favourite toilet country, Denmark, has discovered the Privy Counsel! Those great Danes have, according to our readership statistics, spent the last few weeks doing very little else but reading your darling toilet blog! So we thought we'd reward them with a feature on a historical toilet from their own dear country. Voilà, here's Christian IV's toilet from Rosenborg Castle!


Christian IV's toilet. Image from Free City Guides

According to dkks.dk,
This room, formerly known as “The Secret", is the lowest of three toilets, each with its own disposal chute. Originally it had a door in the wall to the left leading to the bathroom (where the Garden Room is now situated).

There was a water cistern in the room used for flushing. The drain led to the moat which surrounds the Palace. During drier periods it was difficult to get water circulation into the moat, resulting in an unpleasant smell from below.

The stucco ceiling dates from the time of Christian IV and was probably made by Valentin Dresler. The blue and white tiles on the walls were put up in connection with Frederik IV's refurbishing of Rosenborg in 1705. The original tiles were Dutch and were delivered in 1706; some of them are still on the walls. Later – in the 19th century – they were supplemented with tiles originally made in 1736, in a factory in Store Kongensgade in Copenhagen for the "Dutch Kitchen" in the Hermitage Palace.
Christian IV, as Australian Friend knows, was a busy man. Not only did he have toilets installed, he founded cities and pawned royal jewellery left, right and centre, too!

Close-up of the beautiful Dutch-made tiles. Image from Our Travel Pics
Australian Friend spent a memorable day investigating the ins and outs of Rosenborg Castle, in the company of friends.

HONK IF YOU LIKE ROYAL TOILETS!

Further Reading:
We Receive a Postcard
Waltzing around Amalienborg
Sing If you're Glad to Be a Dane
Cowering in Copenhagen
On the Tiles
Christinehof: A Woman's Er, Bog Is Her, Er, Castle?
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...