‘No money changes hands – it’s all about making someone you don’t know happy. It really restores your faith in humanity,’ says The Repair Shop presenter Jay Blades
Stopped clocks, dog-eared toys… these broken but much-loved possessions have become primetime TV stars. Eimear O’Hagan finds out how must-watch series The Repair Shop is helping the nation feel good again
For its six and a half million viewers, The Repair Shop has proved to be the perfect escape from the anxiety and monotony of lockdown, with its gripping combination of master craftsmanship and deeply personal stories.
The BBC TV programme, where members of the public bring much-loved but broken family heirlooms to be repaired and restored by a team of experts, has been captivating an ever-growing audience (prior to lockdown just under three million viewers were tuning in) since it launched in 2017. But it’s never struck such a chord as during recent months, with the current series being brought to our screens early to satisfy demand.
As a nation we’ve been glued to every episode, weeping at the emotional stories behind each dilapidated treasure, gasping at the incredible restorations and… well, weeping again with joy for the overwhelmed owners.
Presenter Jay Blades, 50, who has a background in furniture restoration, says it’s become must-watch viewing for so many in lockdown because it’s a show founded on the principles of community, humanity and kindness.
‘It’s about so much more than just fixing stuff,’ he says. ‘It’s about coming together to help others – reflecting what we’ve seen in lockdown, with people out clapping for the NHS and helping one another through this time.
‘No money changes hands in the repair barn – it’s all about altruism and making someone you don’t know happy. It really restores your faith in humanity.’
From careworn teddy bears to irregular clocks, a diverse collection of treasured possessions has been brought to the workshop, housed in a thatched barn in West Sussex, clutched by nervous contributors preparing to entrust the experts – who range from a ceramicist to a carpenter – with their irreplaceable item.
‘It’s a huge responsibility,’ says Jay. ‘We all recognise the faith being placed in us because, while the items may not be valuable in a monetary sense, to their owner they are priceless. To them, it’s more than a possession – they’re bringing us a member of their family. The item has been passed down through generations and if the team can work its magic, it will be around for future ones to treasure. So much rests on the experts’ skills and care.
‘When a restored piece is handed to its owner, I struggle to hold back my emotions. It’s such a privilege to witness the joy of the owner and the bond formed in that moment between them and their expert, who has poured so much love into their work. For ever more – when that person looks at that item, uses it, talks about it – our team has become part of its history and part of their family.’
For Jay, who is father to daughter Zola, 13, the premise of the show resonates on a very personal level. Five years ago, his marriage broke down and he left his family home, temporarily sleeping rough in his car. He’s described that time as ‘hitting rock bottom’, admitting he came close to taking his life. To now find himself fronting a primetime BBC show is, he says, surreal. ‘Five years ago, I couldn’t see tomorrow, so to be part of this show now is just amazing. And, like the items brought in for repair, I had fallen apart, I didn’t see a future for myself. But I had a team of friends around me, who restored me and gave me a new lease of life.’
So what does it take to be part of the team of expert restorers and how does it feel when one of your most precious items has been restored?
‘I’m incredibly protective of every repair’
Suzie with her brother, clock expert Steve Fletcher
Suzie Fletcher is a master saddle maker and leather worker, and part of The Repair Shop’s team of experts I wish I could tell my 13-year-old self that a broken saddle would one day lead me to a career in television. My grandpa bought me my first pony and I’d saved hard to buy a saddle, only for its frame to break. I was devastated when the local saddle maker, a man called Ken Langford, told me it was beyond repair, but when he suggested I take it home, take it apart and at least learn from it, I did. That was it; my lifelong passion for saddles and tack was born. To me, saddles are both pieces of art and engineering, and are practical and beautiful at the same time.
I’ve loved leather ever since I was a little girl and I took a scrap of it from the floor of a local factory where my parents bought their gloves. Its smell, the way it felt in my hand – I was captivated, and made a tasselled waistcoat from it for my Sindy doll.
I left school at 16 and moved from my home in Oxfordshire to East London where I spent two years studying at saddlery college. I am dyslexic and had struggled at school, so nobody was surprised I’d chosen a non-academic path, although I remember having to explain to my headmaster what a saddler actually was.
After college I trained with Ken, and a number of other master saddle makers, before leaving the UK to live in the US for 22 years, settling in Boulder, Colorado, and marrying my late husband. I was one of just five master saddle makers in the whole country at the time.
My brother Steve, who is the clock specialist on The Repair Shop, was responsible for me joining the show’s team. We grew up in a very crafty home. Dad was a watchmaker who also loved photography and Mum made her own clothes. Both Steve and I were raised with a make-do-and-mend attitude.
I was still in the US, preparing to return to the UK after my husband sadly passed away, when Steve joined the show in its first series in early 2017. He’d call me after filming and tell me what he’d been working on and how much he loved it. One night I casually suggested that if they ever needed anyone who worked with leather, he should mention me. Off he went to the production team, who to my great surprise offered me a role in the summer of that year.
I was very nervous about being on TV – it was a world away from working by myself in my little workshop. Driving to the first day of filming I thought, ‘What on earth am I doing?’
Like everyone who watches it, though, I’ve fallen in love with the show. I think audiences have enjoyed seeing the team pull together to make something wonderful happen – and that’s been reflected in communities up and down the country. All the values the show promotes resonate with me, and I’m so pleased it highlights an alternative to the modern culture for disposable possessions.
Each item that is brought to me for repair is special but some really do stick out in my memory, such as the rocking horse that was brought in by a woman called Julie. She’d recently lost her husband to pancreatic cancer and had no idea that I too had lost my husband to the same disease, so immediately I felt a connection.
Will Kirk, the wood restoration expert, did the most incredible job on the horse and I made a decorative saddle and bridle. The saddle was detachable because, years before he died, her husband Paul had signed his name and the date on the horse, and Julie wanted her grandchildren to be able to see it. When she came in to view the horse, and Paul’s signature, there wasn’t a dry eye in the barn. That one really touched me.
The rest of the team joke about how incredibly protective I am of every item entrusted to me; I treat each one like a baby chick. Every possession is unique and there is no room for error. I’ve had moments where I’ve thought, ‘I honestly don’t know if I’m going to be able to do this.’ Leather is so fragile – one stitch can be undone and the whole thing can fall apart.
When I return an item to its owner, I always hold my breath with anticipation. Until I see they are happy, I can’t exhale and often my heart is thumping so loudly I’m amazed my microphone doesn’t pick it up!
I never forget that while I have come to that moment, having poured all of my skill and care into the item, that person is coming to it with a multitude of emotions, from grief to joy, coupled with nervousness.
It’s no surprise that the ‘reveal’ is often filled with happy tears – my own included.
‘My music box is a link to loved ones I’ve lost’
Sue Pritchard, 62, and her son Richard, 31, brought her family’s Polyphon music box to The Repair Shop earlier this year One of my favourite things to do is sit in my lounge and listen to the music box I inherited from my parents. Closing my eyes, I see my father smiling, while my mother dances and laughs. It’s so precious to me because it evokes such wonderful memories of them.
Sue and her son Richard with music box expert Steve Kember (left)
My paternal grandfather was an engineer who travelled the world; he came home from one of his trips with the music box and its 20 discs, and it’s been in the family now for more than 100 years. My father inherited it, and I have many memories of my mother dancing to it for me when I was a child and later for my children, Annika and Richard. She loved ballet and would spin around to the Sugar Plum Fairy music.
Mum died a few years ago and by then the music box was battered from years of use and didn’t play properly. I still kept it, but felt a great sadness that my grandchildren, Anya, three, and Alexander, one, would never get to enjoy it. It was Richard who applied for us to take it to The Repair Shop. He knew how much it would mean to me to have it restored – and, as a music composer and producer by profession, he was eager to sample the music on it for his work.
Although I was very nervous about being filmed, I handed it over to Steve Kember, the music box specialist, and Will Kirk, the woodwork expert. I was already a fan of the show and trusted them implicitly.
When the box was returned to me, it looked brand new and I wept with happiness. Since then Richard has sampled the music from it, fulfilling that dream of his, while I listen to it regularly, also playing it for my grandchildren.
It’s a piece of my family’s history and a link to loved ones we’ve lost. I’m so grateful to have it restored and preserved for future generations.
The five moments when it got really emotional
Left: The Pocket watch When Ron (centre, with his wife Antonia) brought an antique pocket watch to The Repair Shop, it came with the most incredible story of survival. It had been sewn into the dress of his grandmother, Penot, who had kept it hidden for four years during her time as a prisoner of war in a Japanese camp on the island of Sumatra during the Second World War. ‘There is no family history except this watch,’ said Ron. Despite the pressure, clock expert Steve Fletcher (far left) worked his magic – to an emotional reaction. Right: The louis vuitton steamer Trunk Broken and battered, it was hard to see how new life could be breathed into the vintage LV steamer trunk that Tom (centre) brought to The Repair Shop – an heirloom originally owned by his globetrotting great-grandfather Henrico. Suzie (above with presenter Jay) teamed up with her brother Steve for this restoration and didn’t let Tom down.
The Gold Brooch Sisters Alison and Lorraine travelled from Dundee with a much-loved but broken gold brooch of a tiny bird that had once belonged to their great-grandmother and had lain in a box for the past 40 years. Jewellery expert Richard Talman helped fulfil their dream of returning it, restored to pristine condition, to their mother.
Left: The Toy Horse No ordinary childhood toy, this 50-year-old horse was brought in by Caroline and her husband Mark (both centre) from St Ives, and had been her brother Nathan’s, who died in his 20s from an unsuccessful heart transplant. Toy repair experts Amanda Middleditch (left) and Julie Tatchell worked their magic. Right: The Jukebox After his broken jukebox was repaired by radio and electronics expert Mark Stuckey (left), Geoff (right), from Sunderland, was able to listen to ‘Moonlight Serenade’ by Glenn Miller – the tune he and his late wife Marie had danced to at their wedding reception.
The Repair Shop: Fixing Britain is on weekdays at 4.30pm on BBC One until 24 July