Ruth Spencer: Why we secretly love the shower so much

Illustration / Andrew Louis

By Ruth Spencer for Canvas magazine

The shower has long been recognised as a place of inspiration, generating the kind of scintillating thoughts you wish turned up in work meetings or in the midst of a Twitter spat. Your consciousness rises with the steam to commune in droplets of condensed brilliance that occasionally fall from the ceiling of the higher mind, splashing cold and clever into your brain. You have ideas in the shower, is what I'm saying.

DRAIN WIGS

When you're standing a foot deep in coolish soapy water you can deny it no longer - it's time to get out the long tweezers and have a drain forage. The furry aquatic creature you drag up isn't the long-sought missing link between fish and apes; it's your own hair. Your crowning glory falls like hirsute rain, staying mainly in the drain when it's not sticking to tiles as though it were made of Spider-Man. This is what people mean when they say there'll be Hell Toupee.

DRYER DRYERS

If there was ever an invention conceived in the shower it's the Personal Towel Warmer. Although it sounds like the worst female role in a James Bond film, it's more like a rice cooker you put your towel in (caution: don't). It replaces the ubiquitous heated towel rail, beloved of those who enjoy high power bills and towels with alternating warm and cold stripes. You've probably already gone to Google towel warmers and there's no point even finishing this sent

BLADES OF GLORY

Every showerer is an efficiency expert. Some brush teeth; some "prevent Athlete's Foot". You can shave too, but it's dangerous because just like when Dad gets out the chainsaw, all foliage is at risk. Forget everything you've heard about microblading your eyebrows, it does not involve a Gillette and a sense of carefree abandon.

TIMING IS EVERYTHING

Showering is like marriage: It's hard to get in, but once you're in you don't want to get out. So not really like marriage, more like the housing market. The recommended time for a shower, both to save money and the planet, is five minutes. Only five minutes of pleasure! Perhaps it is like marriage after all.

MAGIC POTIONS

The shower is a magical waterfall where fairytales still come true. A place where yesterday's coffee plunger muck could really be an effective caffeinated cellulite scrub. A place where you'll be buttered by Shea and soothed by Jojoba; they sound nice, whoever they are.

WATER MUSIC

The acoustics are better than Spark Arena, which isn't saying much but then you're not Katy Perry either. The neighbours would prefer you knocked Firework on the head, but shower singing is what separates us from the animals, like that thing in the drain. It's okay to noise pollute when you ablute.

IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU

You do you! Especially all the bits you skipped last time. Whether the shower is your Zen spa or your think tank, you're limited only by the size of your water heater. Let inspiration flow and give free reign to your shower head.