I have a dear, sweet friend who is something of a throwback to an earlier, more genteel time. I donât think sheâd mind this characterization. Sheâs absolutely lovely. The first time I heard her excuse herself and her little girl to âuse the looâ I simply smiled. It was totally in character.
And, I totally get it. I, too, am a bit of a throwback. I am not comfortable with the out-there-ness of talk of private bodily functions. I make no apologies.
The key word here is PRIVATE.
Hence the colonial privy.
As we look back on our colonial forebears and at their lack of indoor plumbing, the question arises: what did they call the loo?
History.org tells us this, âThis little structureâof brick or wood, painted or unpainted, of vernacular or high-style designâwas also known as a bog, boghouse, boggard, or bog-shop; a temple, a convenience, or temple of convenience; a little house, house of office, or close stool; a privy or a garde-robe, terms that descend from the Middle Ages. Or a jakes, a sixteenth-century term. Williamsburgâs St. George Tucker once defined a jakes as a garden temple.â
In later, pioneer times, it was an outhouse. In colonial times, these outhouses ranged from temporary sheds that were moved when the pit was full, to structures that were fashioned to match the house. Many homes didnât have âa necessaryâ at all. This was a time of transitioning from chamber pots. Public buildings, like churches or taverns, though, did have a privy or even several out back.
And, hereâs another thing that might make you squirm. Leather was tanned with urine. So many communities had great vats where urine was stored. Then pole men would come, take away the vats and sell the urine to the tanners. Ahem.
While weâre on the topic, where in heck did the term ârestroomâ come from? I donât think I have ever rested in one.
Wonder how long it will take to get âskip to the looâ out of my head.