The clean machine

At the risk of sounding like Lynne Franks, the bathroom is one of the last great sanctuaries in the Nineties home. Unless you are Donatella Versace, it is the only place where you are beyond the clutches of the phone/fax/TV/PC. The bathroom should be a stress-free zone. A good bathroom interior should enhance that mood, whether it is dimly candle-lit and intimate or bright and minimal. These days, most of us lean towards minimalism: white tiles, silver steel rails and stark slate flooring. As Lady Weinberg's The Hempel Hotel has proved, minimalism can tip over the edge into discomfort. You don't want a bathroom so stark that it resembles an autopsy suite in the county morgue. The detail - your detail - should make the bathroom as lived-in as any other room in your house.

If you count out nosy dinner party guests who make a habit of checking the contents of your bathroom cabinet, the bathroom is a selfish room. It should be selfishly decorated with your favourite colour schemes, your favourite pictures and everything should be designed to give you maximum relaxation potential.

Kaffe Fassett Author and designer

The tiles are all rejects from the studio of a brilliant ceramic designer called Rupert Spira. I guess some people would call them mistakes, but, for me, they are the most beautiful tiles Rupert has ever designed. Each tile is a riot of colour, from deep turquoise to burnt umber, but they make such fascinating patterns when put together.

I don't spend very much time in the bathroom, but there is nothing better than soaking in the deep repro Victorian bathtub and gazing into the tiles. They inspire me: I always find a new colour or contrast to use in my work. Everything in my bathroom is designed around those tiles. The most difficult brief was finding the right colour wash for the walls. I tried blues and pinks but they didn't work. Finally, I hit on burnt umber and now I think it looks wonderful with the Moroccan blue and turquoise detail.

I am a little crazy for ceramics. My favourites are the peacock-blue Islamic pots in the corner. Behind the pots and jars is a painting of them for my exhibition this year. The other paintings are by my sister and niece: all very special pieces. Most things in this room are either gifts from friends or acquisitions from travelling. The bath mat, a tufted ribbon weave, was made by one of my students. I set her a project: to make a mat that would complement the tiles and finish off the room. She passed.

The sink is interesting because it was originally a bowl made by Rupert Spira. I had him turn it into a sink and then surround the basin with more of his tiles. Above the sink is a gilt mirror I picked up in a Kilburn antique shop called Now and Then. The gold and the tiles make the room almost Byzantine. At the risk of sounding compulsive, I find the tiles so entrancing and inspiring that I often leap out of the bath and get straight back to work.

Rupert Spira can be contacted on 01588 650588.

DOMINIQUE COUGHLIN Interiors writer

I bought this house a year ago and when I saw the white enamel bath and basin, I thought, "This has got to go." But, money-wise, I had to work around it. My bathroom is incredibly small, so I wanted to maximise the space. First, I had tongue and groove panelling put around the bath. The vertical lines give the illusion of height. I can't bear all white bathrooms, so the choice of colour was crucial. I decided on a smoky pink tone that reminded me of the Provence landscape. This eggshell paint is warm, comforting and really envelops you.

By putting a gingham fabric drop around the sink - which is attached to the wall with ugly brackets - the trick is to make a feature out of what was formerly a style liability. The white tiles around the sink were equally unalluring, so I had them chipped off and replaced with rough- glazed, fired tiles in an earthy tone.

I am a fan of natural flooring, but it isn't practical in a bathroom, so I chose a very simple cream carpet. The bathroom was the first room I decorated and there is a cardinal rule with new houses: you should live in it for a while before deciding on your colours. I am extremely pleased with the result.

A lot of my relaxation time is spent in this room. But I am not one of the soggy paperback in the bath school. I daydream and do all my thinking in the bath.

JAMES SHERWOOD

Journalist

I am a self-confessed bathroom addict. My own is arranged for ultimate comfort. I deliberately left the walls off-white because I dislike dark rooms intensely. My idea of the perfect bathroom does, after all, come from Up Pompeii.

When I first put the silver towel rails in, I thought that the place looked like a disabled toilet. The addition of a Habitat wooden chair and table made the room more like a living space. It is really important for me to see my favourite pictures from the bathtub. Fellow bathroom addict Marilyn Monroe - shot by Cecil Beaton - smiles down at me, and an Issey Miyake advert dominates the room.

I always keep fresh lilies in the glass Italian vase by the bath. Call it pretentious or call it "chapel of rest", but I like the contrast with my painted lily by Sarah Giddens. An illicit pleasure for me is having a ciggy in the bath. I have a clever ceramic ashtray which hides the ash and cigarette butts as you smoke.

When it comes to bathing, I have all the products on a deep ledge beside the bath. But that is secondary to my easy access cigarettes, glass of wine and books. When I am in the bathroom, there is an unwritten Do Not Disturb sign on the door. Phone calls go unanswered, episodes of ER go unwatched and the world passes me by. I just don't care.