Stepping into this bathroom reminds us of stepping into Van Gogh’s mind, at least while he was painting landscapes during the day. No, this is not an absinthe hallucination, but rather a very abstract and dare we say clever way of saying that yellow is a predominant color in this bathroom as well as certain paintings by the tortured Dutchman (give Planet of the Grapes money). The warm light invites the user to stay as long as necessary and perhaps contemplate taking up painting. Apparently some patrons have already done so and hung several small canvases featuring flowers and more flowers.

The walls have a brick tile pattern, a safe but respectable choice, and black tiles with a diamond pattern adorn the floors. We’re not quite sure what it is about diamond patterns incorporated into floor tiling in bathrooms, but we find ourselves quite taken with them. For some reason we enjoy stepping on diamonds more than giving them to women…we’ll let the therapists take that one. At the end of the day though, diamond patterns can fancy up a bathroom quicker than a pregnancy can legitimize a marriage (or is the the other way around?). This oner is well stocked and the deluxe soap dispenser spouts a foam soap, as light as it is soft, like washing yourself with Santa’s beard. The only misstep is some grime on the frame of a large and otherwise pleasant mirror. This bathroom will make you feel like a sunflower basking in the rays, a celebration of all things yellow.

Rating: 6.5

The Sheraton is no Waldorf, but it’s also no Motel 6. Throughout the country it’s relied on as a solid chain. In New York City, perhaps aware of its place among the giants, The Sheraton puts its best foot forward, like the awkward sophomore who finally got invited to a party thrown by the seniors. And if that is the case, preppy was definitely the wardrobe of choice. The bathroom’s blue wallpaper is comprised of thick, alternating light and dark stripes. This is what Ralph Lauren’s son’s childhood bedroom must have looked like. To continue with that theme, the white marble sinks sit below large mirrors housed in dark wooden frames.

The blue wallpaper only occupies the top half of the walls, the bottom half being a white brick, providing a clean contrast. So far, the effect is quite pleasant and dignified. However, the flooring uses those (quite pedestrian) hexagonal tiles. These are somewhat two-toned; most are white with some blacks thrown in for good measure (need we make an old country club joke?). Looking down at the floor thus produces a sigh of disappointment. It’s as if our aforementioned sophomore wore the right glasses, the right sweater vest, and the right khakis to the party, but put on a pair of beat up Keds–and wasn’t even ironic about it! Flourescent lighting by the stalls detracts from the warm yellows of the lights surrounding the sinks. The bathroom is only being half of what it could be (perhaps one of the parents married down?) At least the blue carpeting in the outside hallway leading to a wooden door made for a nice introduction. Perhaps the Sheraton needs a few more etiquette classes and the right company to make it a champion.

Rating: 6.5

Located past the fitting room like our previous Banana Republic review, the sibling company “Old Navy” doesn’t care if you sneak in by yourself. Gap, Inc., designed Old Navy like the ratty younger brother who perpetually lives in the mental state of freshman year at college. That way, if Banana’s upscale image turns you off, the company still gets your money in the end. However, Old Navy settles into the neighborhood of SoHo comfortably and embraces the space it occupies by leaving it looking like a warehouse.

Their acceptance of the industrial look would benefit them quite well in their facilities, had they gone all the way with it. But only going halfway with the Bohemian look is the same as when an uptown banker tries to come down to this neighborhood to “pick up artsy chicks”–all the cool kids see right through it. Sorry, but the INC is still the biggest part of Gap, Inc. The bathroom is lit brightly by caged, industrial fixtures. The top third of the wall is left as exposed brick to “legitimize” things, and the floor has a brushed concrete look with half a coat of paint on it. But the stalls, gray as they are, look a little too polished for the image they were going for. Also, there is an odd smell lingering in the air, something that will never be cool no matter how uncool it is. Overall you get the sense that they could have done much more to make it “look the part.”

Rating: 6.5

“Let’s go to Bloomy’s” has been said on the Upper East Side of Manhattan more than “let’s help someone less fortunate than us” by a ratio of 250:1. It’s an obvious destination when both looking for hats to wear to the U.S. Open or when having to take care of business if you’re in the area. Like the other big department stores it offers restrooms on several floors, and here we go all the way up to Lucky Seven…though the only lucky ones here are those whose parents at least offered to pay for the therapy after giving them credit cards but then forgetting their names.

This restroom greets you with a frosted door surrounded by black wooden paneling. It made you feel like you were about to enter a very chic bathhouse (but that’s a whoooole other kind of review). The black painted wood theme continues inside. It surrounds a full-length mirror, always a plus, especially when you’ve just gotten away with stealing an article of clothing you’re currently wearing and want to admire your sense of fashion, shoplifting skills, and general panache. The sinks are also black, a black marble, possibly unearthed from the great underground kingdom in the caves of what is now Tangier…or maybe Bloomingdale’s doesn’t go to the lengths we do for interior decorating. At any rate, they need to go to better lengths to maintain their restrooms; one toilet was out of order, and if you’ve ever studied restroom planning and crowd control you will know that just one broken toilet can create a ripple effect that results in longer lines, minor arguments, riots, and sometimes (rarely, but sometimes) death. The textured wallpaper was a very nice touch (pardon), and in general the restroom’s brightness and cleanliness made it feel radiant and pure, like a little debutante just prior to her ball…and subsequent fall into a life of petty arguments, rides to the Hamptons made more bearable by Vicodin, stuffed-shirt husbands who cheat on them daily, child bearing (but not rearing) as a form of social currency, and secret anguish over a purposeless life.

Rating: 6.5

Let us begin with a preface: this is a private residential restroom (thus, exclusively referred to as a bathroom), and is evaluated against a different set of criteria. Keep in mind a rating of 10 would include things like showers you could walk around in and that provide multiple shower heads and steamers, a jacuzzi, a bidet if that’s your thing, and perhaps even a bar. We felt this bathroom would be appropriate to include, however, because it is a stunning example of the Average Bathroom At Your Friend’s House, and we assume our readership is of a certain pedigree and thus knows a few folks around town.

Also, Yahdderman often receives the most bizarre fan mail, so showing a picture of his bathroom should satisfy the continued requests of one Betty M. Hopefully this is the last we’ll hear of this and will not have to call the police again.

This particular bathroom boasts the offbeat charm of yellow coloring, something of an ugly child whose unique spirit makes you secretly love it the most. Most importantly, it is almost always clean and neat, and unlike some WASPy bathrooms we find in suburban homes, with their Norman Rockwell prints and toilets that flush so weakly you perpetually feel on the brink of disaster, this one always lets you stay for as long as you need.

Rating 6.5

The Manhattan Arts and Antiques Center, much like it sounds, consists of numerous showrooms where vendors sell things to the wealthy, such as brass elephant statues, Ming Dynasty door mats, and perhaps even Chaucer’s thigh bracelets. It is a center in that many vendors rent small store spaces and sell their wares, right next to each other in rows. The restrooms are in the center of the downstairs hallway lined with said shops. Considering its central location and the surroundings, we entered the restroom with high hopes. Would we finally happen upon mahogany stall doors, one of the holy grails of restroom assessment? Or at least perhaps be greeted by a four foot tall Buddha made of some precious material, sitting contentedly in the corner in lieu of a bathroom attendant?

We would not. However, we did find a respectable bathroom. Upon first entering, one word comes to mind: cream. While that word may have a negative connotation in many restrooms (see: Penn Station) we refer here simply to the color scheme, thank you. Smooth marble floors, cloth wallpaper, and grained marble sinks make the choice of light beige for the stall color, normally an uninspired decision, fit in perfectly to create a clean and crisp neutral palette. The peculiar toilet bowels here are more round than the typical oval, which certainly provides an interesting variation, however the men’s room loses points for not having dividers between the urinals (which also boast an interesting shape due to the exaggerated jut-out “jaw”). An unsightly paper sign regarding towel politics also detracted from an otherwise pleasant experience.

Rating: 6.5

Across the street from the Upper West Side location of the entry above sits ”the real deal,” nest of the culture vultures, Lincoln Center. Since the purpose of our investigations has always been to serve the interests of ”quick relief” while spending the day as a pedestrian, we visited the more publicly accessible restrooms at Lincoln Center, as opposed to those utilized while attending performances at night, which we trust our readership does regularly.

We found that the grandeur of the performances these facilities host are only slightly hinted at in their restrooms. However, a slice of Pavarotti is still a slice of Pavarotti. The sink found here is a clean, glistening black, reflecting the early 1990s modernist movement in Europe. The urinals in the men’s room echo that aesthetic, sitting high on the wall with short bodies, again clean, but losing points for not having dividers. The toilets in the stalls, however, provide the more basic “school aesthetic” of white bowls with black seats. All in all, this is more Andrea Bocelli than Puccini, but it gets the job done well enough.

Rating: 6.5