Best Bathroom Trash Cans of 2026

Two cans for about what one lidded can costs is the whole argument, and in a house with a main bath and a powder room it is a good one. Each holds 1.9 gallons and measures just 5.5 inches across the base, so the pair covers the gap beside a toilet and the sliver next to a pedestal sink. No lid, no pedal, no hinge.

We appreciate what they do not have. There is no soft-close mechanism to fail and no inner bucket to chase a bag around: toss from standing height, wipe the inside with a damp cloth, done. What you give up is containment — an open can does nothing about odor and nothing about a cat with an interest in dental floss. In a guest bath that sees light use, that is an easy trade. In a household with pets or a toddler in diapers, it is not.

Round cans leave a wedge of dead space in the corner of a small bathroom; this one is oval, 10 inches along the wall and 7.4 out from it, so it presses closer to the skirting and closes that gap. It is 13.18 inches tall, which is how it carries 2.25 gallons without looking like a bucket — the capacity goes up rather than out.

The gunmetal blue is the other draw. It reads as an accent rather than a plastic tub, and it is a real color choice in a category that mostly offers white and black, which matters if the bathroom already has fixtures in an unusual metal.

What you do not get is a lid. Nothing stands between a curious cat and the contents, and a bathroom that already smells of damp towels gets no help from a closed top. In exchange there is no hinge, no pedal, and no gasket to wipe down.

So it comes down to the shape. A round bin in the same corner leaves a gap you notice every time you clean the floor, and this one does not. We like it for a guest bath or a bedroom where the oval and the color are doing the work; where the contents need to stay out of sight, a lidded step can earns its mechanism.

Expect something closer to a milk jug than to a wastebasket, and you will be pleased with it. At 1.5 gallons and 10 inches tall, this is the smallest can we keep in a bathroom, and that is the point — it slides under a sink cabinet or into the sliver between the toilet and the wall and effectively disappears. For the least money in this group, it is what we buy for a rental, a guest bath, or a dorm room.

The plastic is plain but the molding is clean: a reinforced rim that holds its shape, a smooth interior that wipes out in one pass, and a rectangular footprint that takes less floor than a round can of the same capacity. There is no lid, so odor and a curious cat are your problem rather than the can's. That is the honest trade at this end of the market, and it explains why this one costs so much less than the steel cans here.

Three and a half gallons is kitchen-can territory, and that is why this one made the list. In a bathroom shared by three or four people it means far fewer trips to the kitchen bin, and the extra capacity goes upward — the base is 10.6 by 7.5 inches, no larger than several smaller cans here.

The molded handles are the detail we ended up appreciating most. You can carry a full bucket to the kitchen one-handed instead of hugging it against your chest. The plastic has enough thickness that it does not bow when you lift it loaded, and the inside wipes clean after a week of bathroom waste rather than staining.

We think of it as the utility pick: no lid, no pedal, nothing to break, and a bag that takes days to fill. It works as hard in a laundry room or beside a desk as it does next to a toilet, which is more than most bathroom cans manage. In a small powder room it looks oversized, and that is the only room where we hesitate to put it.

At 11.8 inches tall, this is the shortest lidded step can here, and the half inch it saves over the Cesun is exactly the sort of thing that decides whether a can disappears under a vanity shelf or sits in front of it. The footprint is slim as well: 9.1 inches along the wall, 5.9 out from it.

The lid opens on a steel-treaded pedal, pushes back to 90 degrees and stays there while you change the bag, and closes quietly enough that we stopped noticing it after a few days. Inside, a retaining hole holds the liner under the rim — a small thing until a bag has slipped down into a full bucket.

Where it gives ground is the bucket. It holds the same 1.6 gallons as the Cesun, but with less height in the body you are changing the bag a little sooner. The taller lidded cans here are the easier all-round call; this one wins on the single measurement that rules them out.

Brushed stainless is the reason to look at this one. Next to a chrome faucet and a metal towel bar it reads as part of the room rather than a plastic tub on the floor. The round body is 9.5 inches across and 12 tall, and the 1.2-gallon bucket pulls out by a metal ring — a small touch that makes emptying feel less like reaching into a bin.

The pedal takes a light press, the lid closes softly, and it stays open if you lift it back by hand to 90 degrees. We used that more than expected, for scraping a razor and wiping the rim.

Capacity is the smallest in this group at 1.2 gallons, so this is a powder room, bedroom, or single-occupant can rather than the one a family of four shares. It is light, too: a can this size on tile shuffles a few inches under a hard step unless it is backed against a cabinet or given grip tape underneath.

Five years of warranty coverage is more than anything else here offers, and it is why we are comfortable pointing to a metal can at this size. Buy it for the finish and the quiet close. As a container it does nothing the plastic cans here cannot; as an object in a bathroom you look at every day, it does more.

Five-point-nine inches is the number that earns this can its spot. It is nearly two inches narrower than our top pick, which is the difference between fitting beside a pedestal sink and living out in the hallway. The 11.2-inch length runs along the wall, so the whole can tucks into a strip of floor you had written off.

Everything else is pitched at the same buyer. The pedal is metal rather than plastic, the lid closes on a soft-close hinge, the inner bucket lifts out, and the powder-coated matte black body wiped clean of toothpaste speckle in a single pass while we were using it. We think it is the best value among the lidded cans here: hands-free opening and a lid that holds odor in, for less money than the simplehuman.

Capacity is where it edges ahead: 1.6 gallons against 1.2, in a narrower body, so a busy bathroom empties it less often than our top pick. The bucket has a small lip to grab instead of a handle, which is the one place the simplehuman feels more considered. For a powder room or a slim slot beside a vanity, it does the job with nothing left over.