TUSHY Classic 3.0 bidet attachment installed on a white toilet in a minimal rental apartment bathroom, bamboo control knob visible, warm soft morning light from overhead, clean white tile walls, moody editorial bathroom photography, no people

the bidet question: 1 toilet attachment for the conversation no one wants to start



the bathroom is mid-audit. this is the situation: the bath mat landed three weeks ago and created a standard, and the standard created a list, and the list is being addressed on friday in the form of six objects that are going to turn the rental bathroom into something that at least implies a person with opinions lives here. towels. curtain. mirror. the whole brief.

but before i get to the visible upgrades — the ones you can photograph, the ones that go on pinterest, the ones that make the room look like someone considered it — there is one upgrade that has to be discussed. and it is the one that no one discusses first. or second. or, in many cases, ever.

i’m talking about the toilet.

specifically: what happens after the toilet. which is a sentence i did not expect to write on a blog about domestic rescue missions and waffle weave shower curtains, but here we are. the bathroom audit was supposed to be about aesthetics. it was supposed to be about textures and finishes and the correct shade of matte black. and then i made the mistake of reading a thread about bidets at eleven on a wednesday night and the audit expanded into territory i had not planned for.

here is what i learned: most of the developed world uses water. we use paper. this is not a cultural observation i’m making from a position of superiority — i have been using paper my entire life. i am making it from a position of someone who spent forty-five minutes reading about it and is now unable to go back to not knowing.


  1. tushy classic 3.0 — the inarguable upgrade

i want to be clear about something: this is not a lifestyle recommendation. i am not going to tell you that a bidet changed my life. i am not going to use the word “refreshing.” i am going to describe what this object is, what it does, and why i ordered it at ten-thirty on a tuesday night and installed it while julian was at work, which is a sequence of decisions that tells you everything about the social dynamics of this particular product category.

the tushy classic 3.0 is a non-electric bidet attachment. it installs between the toilet seat and the bowl — you disconnect the water supply line, attach the tushy’s T-connector, reconnect, and the whole thing is done in under ten minutes. no plumber. no electrical outlet. no conversation with the property management office. it connects to your existing cold water supply and uses water pressure alone, which means there are no batteries, no plugs, no ongoing relationship with an appliance.

the nozzle is self-cleaning. tushy calls it smartspray, which is a marketing name i’m choosing not to interrogate, but what it means in practice is that the nozzle rinses itself before and after each use. the water pressure is adjustable — a knob on the side controls the stream from gentle to assertive, which is a spectrum i will let you navigate on your own. there’s a precision nozzle adjuster for positioning. the knob comes in bamboo or brass finish options, and i went with bamboo because i’m furnishing a bathroom, not a speakeasy.

it fits most standard two-piece toilets. the company claims 8.5 minutes for installation, which was optimistic in my case — i’d say twelve, mostly because i was being cautious with the water line connection and because i kept checking the instructions even though the instructions are four steps. it comes with everything you need: the attachment, the T-connector, a mounting plate, a teflon tape roll, and an adapter for non-standard hoses. it’s a complete kit. you don’t need to go to the hardware store. you don’t need to know anything about plumbing. you need a willingness to spend twelve minutes acknowledging that the current system was never the best system — it was just the system.

now. the julian situation.

i installed it at two in the afternoon. he got home at six. he used the bathroom at six-fifteen. at six-sixteen i heard: “margot. what is this.” which is the exact tone he uses when he discovers i’ve made a unilateral domestic decision, which happens more often than either of us would like to admit. i explained. he was skeptical. he was skeptical for approximately thirty-six hours, after which he said — and i’m quoting directly — “we should have gotten this sooner.” he said this while reading the newspaper on his phone. he did not look up. this is julian’s version of a five-star review.

the tushy classic 3.0 costs $129 for a single unit. for context, the average american household spends roughly $120 a year on toilet paper. the math is not complicated. the environmental argument is not complicated. the hygiene argument is not complicated. the only complicated thing is the conversation, which is why i’m having it here, in writing, on a blog about making a rental apartment livable, where it arguably belongs more than anywhere else. the bathroom is being claimed. every surface, every fixture, every system. including this one.

shop: tushy classic 3.0 bidet toilet attachment →


the bathroom audit continues. friday brings the visible things — the towels, the curtain, the mirror, the objects that make the room look like it’s been considered. but this one had to come first, even though it comes last in every conversation, because it’s the upgrade that is functionally inarguable and socially impossible to bring up at brunch.

julian has started referring to it as “the situation” when talking to his brother on the phone. “we have a situation in the bathroom now,” he said, in a tone that was trying very hard to sound neutral. his brother asked what kind of situation. julian said, “a water situation.” there was a pause. then his brother said, “oh. yeah. those are great.” and julian said, “i know.”

the bathroom rescue mission is not just about what the room looks like. it’s about what the room does. and sometimes the most important upgrade is the one you don’t put on pinterest.


products:

  • tushy classic 3.0 bidet toilet attachment

price: $129
why buy: because the current system was never the best system — it was just the system no one wanted to talk about replacing

(affiliate link above — i make a small commission if you buy, which funds my ongoing refusal to leave any surface, fixture, or system in this apartment at its factory default)

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