explore a woman in her teens approach the mirror. The curls in her long blonde hair were flawless and her attire was up to par with the latest fashion trends on the Paris runways. Once it was her turn to wash her hands, he spent some extra time checking out her good hair day in the mirror. From her satisfied expression as she strutted out of the restroom, this self-review in times of perfection made her feel good; it made her feel powerful. While many women that day were still uncomfortable in the anxiety of receiving judgment from others, some acquired the confidence to flaunt their esteem and demonstrate control or manipulation over publicity’s influence. An additional endeavor to prevent the recognition of the public’s presence in this intensely private affair was also observed that morning while I waited my turn in line. Participation in an observed public restroom culture adhering to an unofficial yet highly specific code of etiquette when using the restroom included taking measures to reestablish a sense of privacy in these areas. One strategy is to avoid making eye contact. This protects user anonymity. The other women kept their glances forward and direct, avoiding any interaction between the public. One participating jog-
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the sky is wicked huge. ger in her mid-thirties executed another tactic attempting to privatize this space: distancing herself as far as possible from other patrons and therefore decreasing the proximity of insecurities between stalls. A third strategy initiated by most of these women was to clean-up after use. These attempts towards deception strive to eliminate the next user’s realization of the space being shared from entering their consciousness. My anthropological work discovered that loyalty to practicing this code is sometimes effective in imagining public restrooms to be more private and eliminating outside influence, while also encouraging confidence in the restroom. Public pressure encourages us to needlessly flush toilets to disguise unflattering sounds, or to discretely check our appearance in the reflections of objects other than the restroom’s mirror to avoid the public admittance of an imperfection—a clever trick executed by a tourist in her 50s who avoided her reflection at all costs, busying herself with soap suds and paper towels. This trickery includes self-deception with the illusion of power which we seek in a pseudo-confidence. Through these methods, we strive to skirt public judgment of our performance
in the restrooms in aims to protect ourselves from outside scrutiny. I became accustomed to this restroom culture and when it was my turn, I naturally followed the same etiquette I had been researching. I felt so silly being controlled by the women around me; I was in the power of strangers who I would most likely never meet again. I accept this as a fact of life, for now. In the privilege of their amenities, public restrooms demand a sacrifice of vulnerability. Using the restroom requires a performance entailing discrete strategies of deception and obstinacy on behalf of the individual’s persistence to be powerful. The artificial exploitation of restrooms and the complications which arrive with its extended misusage provides commentary into how our society values this performance of trickery and tenacity in utterance of human perfection and intolerance to personal weakness and insecurity. How damaging are the consequences of our society’s insistence on flawlessness? Should social reforms be made to forgive flaws in public restrooms? Until our culture’s unremitting value on perfection is revised, we will forever be the victims of public influence. text · Liz McGreavy image · nysuperblog.com