Going the Extra Inch for a Leak-Free Shower Curtain

By MICHELLE SLATALLA Published: May 18, 2006

MY husband nearly knocked me over as he ran past in his robe, bath towel clutched in one hand, a bar of soap in the other.

"Sorry, but I haven't had a shower in three days," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hallway. "This is my chance."

He skidded to a halt in front of the master bathroom. The door was closed. He knocked. No answer. Gleefully, he grabbed the door handle.

"Dad!" a voice called from inside. "I'm in here."

He looked so sad. And, now that he had mentioned it, a little grimy.

No one would ever guess we have another perfectly good shower down the hall, in a room we optimistically referred to as "the girls' bathroom" when we moved in nearly four years ago. In fact, as my husband likes to remind me, we bought the house largely because of that second shower.

But my three daughters never use it. Instead, they use their highly perfumed shampoo in ours with a frequency that may seem impossible to anyone who has not lived with teenagers who bathe every 12 hours or so to prevent a syndrome they call "flat hair."

The problem with their bathroom, they claim, is a small shower curtain. Water leaks out to splash the walls and floor. You may think this is a minor problem. You may even raise the question (at a dinner party, in front of the neighbors, if you are my husband) of how we managed to raise children who would rather expose their father to bubble-gum-scented shampoo residues that make him break out in rashes than wipe up a few drips in their own bathroom.

This month, I finally took decisive action. My initial plan was to buy online a regular old extra-long shower curtain, which is generally a foot longer than the standard 72-by-72-inch curtain. Sites like Linens4Less.com even sell extra-long shower liners (in white, beige or clear, for $8.99 apiece).

But after extensive field research (I took a shower in the girls' bathroom), I determined that the problem was more complicated. The curtain was not only too short to adequately cover the lip of the claw foot tub, but it was also not wide enough. Gaps allowed rivulets to pour out.

I needed a custom curtain. I needed, in short, the sort of help for which only a few years ago I would have had to turn to a local curtain maker or upholsterer.

These days plenty of sites make shower curtains to fit your measurements. I considered Fabricworkroom.com, which offers "1,000-plus designer fabrics" and contract sewing businesses like Garymanco.com, where the product list also includes pizza bags for delivery drivers and body bags. ("Body bags?" I asked a customer service representative. "Yes, and we also manufacture washer and dryer covers," she said. "I will send a sample of the material before you order.")

Then I stumbled across an online store called A Well Dressed Kitchen at www.homestead.com/awelldressedkitchen/index.html, operated by Nancy Schettler in Orchard Park, N.Y. Ms. Schettler started her sewing business in 1986 after enjoying success with braided wreaths she exhibited at a crafts show ("They were all the rage then," she said), and later branched out to custom place mats, table runners, napkins, toaster covers ... and shower curtains.

"It just evolved," Ms. Schettler said. "Shower curtains are one of the main things people find us for."

Ms. Schettler, who used to be a computer programmer, started her sewing business in her attic, where she worked for years until moving to a larger space in January.

"We overflowed, with seven of us working at the height of the Christmas season." She added, "Now I rent a place that's right on the path for my kids to stop in after school before they go to the library and 7-Eleven."

Ms. Schettler, whose site has pictures of hundreds of fabrics, calculates the price of a curtain based on size, figuring that a standard 72-inch-by-72-inch curtain is $48.50, and that a bigger one will cost more.

I described my problem as an oval-shaped curtain bar suspended from the ceiling above a claw foot tub.

"It attaches, at two points, to the walls," I said. "You can't slide your rings past those points," she said briskly.

"Exactly," I said.

"We can make a curtain for you in one continuous piece, and then I suggest you overlap the ends of the liners on the rings," she said. "You might need three liners. We don't make them. Buy extra long."

"O.K.," I said, relieved to clearly be in the hands of an expert.

"Measure the perimeter of the bar and the height from the bar to wherever you want it to end," she said. "Then call me back."

I rushed upstairs. I climbed a step stool, pushed aside the curtain and turned to see the measuring tape out of reach, next to where my daughter stood admiring her (very clean) self in the mirror. "Can you hand me that?" I asked from my perch.

"Does my hair look flat?" she asked.

Later I called Ms. Schettler and read off the measurements.

"I will make it an inch longer for shrinkage," she said. "Whatever you tell me,

I add an inch."

I would have expected no less.

"I looked at your fabrics, but what I want is a plain white curtain with a little crochet detail at the top," I said.

"I suggest a small-scale white-on-white design to hide wrinkles. We can make an attached cotton valance the same width as the curtain, so it won't look ruffly, but will give it an accent," she said. "I can see what the local fabric store has; they usually have a crochet-type lace that's about an inch wide. I'll e- mail you the pictures."

"I hate to turn it into a big deal," I said.

"Everybody turns it into a big deal," she said soothingly. "It's your bathroom."

My curtain problems will soon be over. Now if only Ms. Schettler had something to cure rashes.