In my first year of university, a friend and I stumbled into Sneaky Dee’s at the invitation of another friend who was hosting a show there. If you’ve ever been to this venue and restaurant — tucked quietly in the corner of College and Bathurst — you know how overstimulating its atmosphere can be. Under dim lights, visual noise blasts from all corners of the venue. The stickers on the seating tables aren’t shy either; they proudly showcase how beloved the space has been for Torontonians and tourists alike since 1987.
So, I should have known better than to walk into the bathroom expecting to escape the restaurant’s iconic claustrophobia — something that’s become a trademark feature of the venue over time.
To say that the bathroom at Sneaky Dee’s embodies defacement, graffiti, and latrinalia is a colossal understatement. Walking in, you’re greeted with several decades’ worth of hasty scrawlings and absurd drawings on walls, toilets, and sinks — everything from illustrations of pooping bunnies to pretentious Shakespeare quotes to occasional tidbits of tear-jerking wisdom. My friend and I tried to write our names on the wall above the toilet — ‘Mash Wuz Here’ — but we couldn’t. There was simply no room for us there.
And that’s exactly what latrinalia is! As the name suggests, latrinalia refers to any type of public writing, art, or graffiti that appears in bathroom stalls or latrines. But latrinalia is more than just writing on the walls of dingy spaces.
In fact, anyone who’s been to Sneaky Dee’s — or the countless other lesser-known, yet-to-be-gentrified spaces in Toronto — will tell you that experiencing latrinalia fills you with a sudden rush of excitement, contemplation, and a sense of connection to the world around you.
The experience of latrinalia creates a reverse panopticon effect.
A brief history of the modern-day cave painting: latrinalia in intimate spaces
Despite popular opinion, latrinalia is not just a design choice, aesthetic movement, or something slapped onto walls to appear hip, trendy, or cool. It’s a statement of boldness — a cryptic yet jarring glimpse into the collective cultural psyche of countless people who have slipped in and out of the same stall over the years.
Initially coined by American folklorist Alan Dundes in his 1966 essay “Here I Sit — A Study of American Latrinalia,” writing on bathroom stalls, brothels, and other intimate spaces dates back to Ancient Rome. Funnily enough, scholars of latrinalia sift through layers of cryptic jokes, meanings, and musings from the ancient Romans.
According to University of Washington classics Professor Sarah Levin-Richardson, most — if not all — the latrinalia found in ancient Rome references the act of defecating, which was unapologetically communal and public in Ancient Rome.
But I assure you, the significance of bathroom latrinalia has evolved beyond mere poop jokes. So, what does the presence of latrinalia really signify? In preparation to write this article, I carefully explored certain areas of the UTSG campus and culturally vibrant areas of the city, not only to find examples of latrinalia but also to see if any underlying themes emerged.
While Sidney Smith Hall and Kensington Market didn’t disappoint — with the writing on the stall walls saying Trans Lives Matter and I love peeing in dead silence — I noticed no overarching theme in the latrinalia. Instead, it seemed to signal an uninhibited expression of the mind. No matter how radical, niche, profane, or unhinged the saying or opinion may be, you can speak freely, where you defecate freely.
Beyond the visual noise: what is latrinalia really trying to say?
Across Toronto, scrawlings range from political sayings to satirical drawings of US President Donald Trump kissing Elon Musk, to Russian poems, song lyrics from Jeff Buckley’s 1994 album Grace, and much more. Each expression is more personalized, intriguing, and enigmatic than the last.
Being in Sneaky Dee’s was like being in a space of genuine free expression. Somehow, the bold red pen scrawl that read, “I just had sex for the first time and all I could think about was my midterm grade,” really spoke to my soul. Not because I was a fellow student, but because I understood how that undiluted, raw, and unique vulnerability could only manifest in a space like a public toilet.
The experience of latrinalia creates a reverse panopticon effect, where the inherent intimacy and uncontested anonymity of bathroom stalls encourages people to say exactly what’s on their mind, foregoing the need to be articulate, professional, or clean. I’ve also noticed that latrinalia often unfolds as an ongoing conversation between two or more anonymous authors or artists, who, over an extended period of time or even within just a few hours — depending on when and where one encounters the specific latrinalia — cultivate a unique dialogical space.
The uniquely gendered nature of some bathrooms also contributes to latrinalia’s distinct effect, exuding a raw type of intimacy uncharacteristic of most public spaces. When an anonymous passer-by scrawls something on the yellow-tiled walls of a women’s bathroom, they do so through a personalized social and political lens, addressing themes of gender identity and womanhood — all chaotically conveyed through colourful scribbles.
At times, and weirdly enough, I’ve felt that peeing in a women’s bathroom is not unlike being in the collective psyche that all women share. “I want this leash off my neck,” wrote one anonymous person in all caps on the wall of a bathroom in a bar I have long forgotten the name and location of.
I’ll never know who wrote that, but I can relate, sadly. But knowing I am not alone in that feeling is the solace that latrinalia provides.
Across space, time, and cultures, latrinalia speaks to the deepest and most vulnerable parts of the human experience. In doing so, it becomes a uniquely radical facet of self-expression. In a world where the status quo dictates narratives around acceptability and collective liberation, where gentrification threatens authenticity, the importance of speaking one’s mind cannot be understated. Latrinalia is a testament to that vital power.
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