THE BEDROOM

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 233, 21 December 1927, Page 7

THE BEDROOM

TODAY AND YESTERDAY.

modern; privacy and comfort

No room in the house reveals so intimately the character of the housewife as does her bedroom. In it her idiosyncrasies assert themselves and all her little personal touches are displayed. It is her sanctum where no other may intrude. The privacy of the modern bedroom is in marked contrast with the familiarity of those of earlier times. In mediaeval days the bed-chamber was a room of great importance, for the kings and queens of Europe frequently received their courtiers in their sleeping apartments, and these semi-public rooms were richly furnished and elaborately hung with costly embroideries. As late as the seventeenth century, a building of such note as the Palace of Versailles was planned, having the rooms opening into each other, so that little privacy was to be had even in the bed-chambers.

This has now been changed; the bedroom of the smallest cottage is invariably cut off by a passage from the other rooms, and can be given a privacy that was never enjoyed in the great houses of the past, writes J. L. Berry in “The Home.”

In many of the better homes of today this segregation is carried a step farther. An adjoining bathroom, opening directly off the bedroom, allows the occupant to perform the whole of his or her toilet and dressing without leaving the apartment at all. This has become the common practice in modem American domestic planning, where almost every bedroom in a house of any pretensions is given its own private lavatory and luxuriously equipped bathroom. Further, many of the double bedrooms in these houses have a small dressing-room off them as well, affording 3 r et more privacy within -the apartment.

Besides the question of convenience, these accessories have had at least one salutary effect upon the furnishing of the bedroom. They have rendered unnecessary the washhandstand, that articles of furniture so obtrusive in the sleeping-chambers of ~a generation and more ago. On account of the primitive state of sanitation in those times, and washhandstand was an evil necessity, and it is curious how the Victorian designers were at such pains to make it so conspicuous a feature in the room. This piece of furniture, usually in mahogany. in the hands of the eighteenth century craftsman, wa s really a thing of beauty; small, shapely and simple in line, it supported little else than a wash basin and ewer, generally in blue and white china, and of dainty design. The whole fitting assisted the furnishing of the room without unduly obtruding itself. The washhandstands of the later period were huge, ill-con-ceived things with white marble tops and backs cut to fantastic shapes, and upon the latter were stuck small marble brackets to hold soap-dishes and toothbrush containers. Great toilet sets of innumerable pieces went to complete the whole ugly outfit, which seemed to fiervade the bedroom with its unseemy presence.

But notwithstanding; the assertiveness of these Victorian washhandstands, the bed is, and always has been, the principal piece of furniture of the sleeping chambers. Beds from time immemorial have appeared as important items in the household inventory of the wealthy, and the great four-posters of the early times was a thing of beauty, as well as of luxury. The frame-work was usually richly carved, whilst the bedding was of softest down, and sheets of finest linen; the outer covering of samite, damask, or other costly material, frequently richly embroidered with appropriate heraldic devices. On the headboard of the framework shelves were often fixed for carrying various articles; and these are alluded to by Chaucer in “The Clerk’s Tale,” when he speaks of “A twenty bokes clothed in black or red” which adorned the shelf, “at his beddes hed.” The central panel of the head board was at times fitted with a secret spring, so that it could be used as a means of escape to an adjoining room or secret passage; and frequently cupboards were artfully concealed within the bases of the footposts, which were sometimes as much as 12 to. 14 inches square. Until the time of the Georges, the heavy four-posters continued in vogue. The delicate taste of the late eighteenth century reduced their clumsy appearance and added dainty and refined detail. without materially changing the shape. Last century witnessed the appearance of the iron and brass bedstead—a most depressing innovation, that has largely superseded the doublebed, and made popular two single beds standing side by side, generally referred to as tw’in beds. The other pieces of bedroom furnb ture—the chest of drawers, the high or the low boy, and the dressing-table-followed through much the same stages of design as does the bed; though the dressing-table is not much in use as a separate entity before the seventeenth century. Bedrooms are furnished to-ejay with a lightness and daintiness that is in strong contrast with the cumbersome character of the Victorian manner. The tendency generally is to furnish in suites, which certainly give a completeness to the room; and when the suites are well made and designed, an admirable effect is to be bad. But so often do we see these ill-conceived, hastily put together, and lacking all pleasant form. The modern bed has generally some open slat treatment, or, for the more costly class, low panelled head and footboards, which rely upon simple lines and the grain cf the timber for their effectiveness. The other pieces of furniture in the suite are treated in the same way, tba design only being adapted to the peculiar requirements of each piece. The fonr-poster bed with valance is now rarely made, though in some instances the old Victorian ones have been requisitioned and made use A great deal can be done to make the bedroom attractive by the careful use of well-selected chintzes, or even coloured prints, for coverings and curtains. These, with a simple, dainty wallpaper, make a background for the furniture and pictures, and should roonise or be in pleasant contrast one with the other. Finally, care should be taken not to overcrowd the room with either furniture or photographs, but rather to treat it simply, and endeavour to impart to it an air of cheerful seclusion.