Bidets are one of those inventions people either swear by like a bathroom religion, or stare at like it’s alien technology installed by a very hygiene-focused civilization. But behind that mysterious little water-spraying throne-adjacent device is a history way richer, weirder, and more aristocratic than it has any right to be.
The bidet appeared in France around the late seventeenth or early eighteenth century, because apparently the French looked at humanity’s bathroom situation and said, “absolutely not.” The word “bidet” comes from a French term for a small horse or pony, because early users had to straddle it. Yes. The fancy ass-cleaning device was named after the act of sitting on a tiny horse. History is beautiful.
Early bidets were not sleek bathroom fixtures. They were luxury furniture, often made from wood with removable basins, used in bedrooms before modern plumbing became common. Rich people had handcrafted bidets while servants handled the water, which is exactly the kind of aristocratic nonsense that makes you understand why revolutions happen.
“Civilization is best measured not by monuments, but by whether it solved the problem of wiping with dry paper and calling it a day.”
Madame de Pompadour, mistress of King Louis XV, had an ornate rosewood bidet made in 1751 with carved flowers and gilt bronze fittings. Imagine being so powerful that even your bathroom-adjacent hygiene furniture gets royal-tier craftsmanship. Meanwhile, peasants were probably outside fighting mud, taxes, and digestive consequences.
For a while, bidets carried weird social baggage. In some places they were associated with sex work, contraception myths, or suspiciously fancy habits. Because naturally, the second an object involves hygiene below the waist, society starts acting like Victorian ghosts entered the room.
Italy, however, understood the assignment. The bidet became so normal there that since 1975, Italian housing rules have required at least one bathroom fixture setup including a toilet, bidet, bath or shower, and sink. In Italy, not having a bidet is less “minimalist design” and more “what kind of uncivilized rental listing is this?”
Then Japan took the concept and launched it into the future. In 1980, TOTO introduced the Washlet, combining warm water, heated seats, controls, dryers, and enough buttons to make guests question whether they are using a toilet or starting a spaceship. Japan didn’t just adopt the bidet. Japan gave it firmware.
Today, bidets range from simple handheld sprayers to luxury smart toilets that warm, wash, dry, deodorize, illuminate, and spiritually judge you. They save toilet paper, improve hygiene, and make people who try them suddenly very passionate in conversations nobody asked for.
The bidet isn’t just plumbing. It’s history. It’s culture. It’s comfort. It’s the radical idea that maybe, just maybe, water is better than aggressively sanding your ass with dead trees.