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FOR QUEEN AND CUDDLES
Like all the best Christmas fairy tales, Britain’s last surviving teddy bear factory – a go-to for royals for generations – has battled back from the brink thanks to two ‘furward-thinking’ young women. Judith Woods meets Merrythought’s savvy CEOs
Where to find the true spirit of Christmas? In the midst of the merriment-bynumbers and high-tech toys, authenticity is an elusive thing. But when you encounter it, there’s nothing more moving. It’s in the tears that well up, unbidden, at your child’s nativity play, or in the surge of pleasure as snatches of a favourite carol drift through the crisp night air. And unexpectedly, magically, it is to be found deep in the heart of the Shropshire countryside, in a humble brick building where Christmas dreams really do come true.
Set among the densely wooded slopes of Ironbridge Gorge, the Merrythought factory is a long, low 1930s gem that’s as close to Santa’s workshop as you’ll find this side of the North Pole. Here, beneath twinkling lights, resides the UK’s last surviving soft toy manufacturer to specialise in traditional teddies. At this family firm, spanning four generations, each bear, rabbit or monkey is lovingly made by hand in a process unchanged since the first upmarket teddy left the quaintly low-tech production line 86 years ago.
With their movable limbs, hand-sewn smiles and embroidered noses, the toys are created from the finest, softest mohair or alpaca fabric, have a luxurious heft and represent both a wonderfully traditional toy and a piece of British heritage. They don’t come cheap – the bestselling London Gold bear starts at £67.50. But each of these teddies is handmade by skilled seamstresses, in a time-honoured fashion. It’s not surprising that wherever there’s a period drama with a children’s nursery, there will be a Merrythought bear nestling in a cot or watching from a shelf. Binky Bunny was often to be seen clutched by young Sibbie in Downton Abbey.
They are loved by real-life royals, too. Queen Elizabeth received a Merrythought corgi in 1952, Prince Charles was given a hippo for baby Prince William, and Zara Phillips was photographed as a child carrying her Merrythought teddy muff to church on Christmas Day. The company supplies bespoke bears to the likes of Fortnum & Mason and London’s Dorchester Hotel, and made the official 2012 Olympics Team GB teddy bear. But this year marks the introduction of two very special bears, each taking their inspiration from Princes George and Harry.
Both limited-edition bears were designed in collaboration with Prince Charles’s Highgrove House and Gardens and will be sold at the Highgrove shop as well as online. George has already received his namesake bear, which is pale gold with regal purple pads and ribbon, while Harry’s bear is a coppery colour with a red bow. The bears retail at £99.95 and £125 respectively. Not cheap, but these teddies are built to last: ‘We put a lot of thought, and love, into every one we make,’ says Sarah Holmes, 35, who runs Merrythought with her younger sister Hannah, 32. (Their youngest sibling, Sophie, 29, an animal portrait painter, helps out with social media when she can.) ‘A Merrythought bear isn’t the sort of toy to be played with and discarded, but a precious heirloom to be treasured and passed down to children and grandchildren.’
By any measure, these poised young women do not conform to any expectation of what a managing director – they hold the title jointly – of a teddy bear factory might look like. They are robustly un-eccentric, sophisticated and wordly. And the determination they have shown in the face of adversity reflects that of the business itself. In fact the story of Merrythought, and the family that created it, reads like a fairy tale in the finest Christmas tradition, tracing the peaks of success, the troughs of tragedy and, eventually, triumph.
‘It’s a huge responsibility to run a business like Merrythought,’ says Sarah. ‘Very few companies do everything from start to finish like us because it can be a logistical challenge. We do everything from cutting the fabric to making the bears, advertising, sourcing customers, packaging and sometimes personally delivering orders. It’s very much a labour of love.’
Since they took over from their father Oliver, who died in 2011, the sisters have faced a steep learning curve. ‘One Christmas Eve I spent an hour and a half packing an oversized bear into my tiny car and driving it to Harrods, where I spent another hour and a half unpacking it,’ laughs Sarah. ‘It’s all part of the service, and worth it to know that we had made someone’s Christmas special.’
The next year it was Hannah’s turn to go the extra mile, by climbing on to the factory roof to carry out emergency repairs. ‘There was nobody else to do it,’ shrugs Hannah. ‘I’m not sure how good a job I did but it stopped the rain pouring in.’ Ironically, for such an artisanal venture, Merrythought is sited in the very crucible of the industrial revolution. Ironbridge – named after the iron bridge that spans the Severn – was a hub of 18th-century commercial activity
Each toy is made by hand in a process that hasn’t changed for 86 years
because of its coal, iron ore and limestone deposits and access to river transport. Today it is famous for two iconic companies: Merrythought and the nearby Aga factory.
Little wonder both products are imbued with a tangible sense of history. The Merrythought company was founded by Sarah and Hannah’s great-grandfather William Gordon Holmes, who had previously run a mohair yarn factory. When the bottom fell out of that market he decided to capitalise on the popularity of the teddy bear. Legend has it the first ever teddy was given to US President Theodore ‘Teddy’ Roosevelt in 1903 after he couldn’t bring himself to shoot a bear while hunting with friends, but Merrythought (an Old English word for a wishbone) is a thoroughly British concept.
By the 1950s, business was booming and Merrythought expanded its output, establishing a carpentry shop and metal works to make rocking horses. In the 1980s it started making a cheaper range of bears and other plush animals, using synthetic fabrics which had by then become widely available. But its fortunes changed when China flooded the market with mass-produced toys that cost a tenth of Merrythought’s.
By then the girls’ father had taken over, and they remember the trading climate being tough. ‘We could see how much pressure Dad was under at home, but when we visited the factory we just thought it was great fun to watch the bears being made and meet the staff, some of whom had worked there for generations,’ recalls Hannah.
The girls also had their own bears, of course, which still have pride of place in their bedrooms. Hannah has a small ten-inch bear called Grey Ted. Sarah has Cheeky, a 20-inch Cheeky Bear with oversized ears and a wide grin. ‘Cheeky Bears have been a lifesaver for us because they are hugely sought after by Japanese collectors,’ says Sarah. ‘We make around 100 new designs and colours every year for the Japanese market.’
In 2006 the decision was taken to drastically restructure the business and concentrate on the higher end of the market, which proved to be a wise move. As Oliver sought to steer Merrythought into premium products – the girls’ mother, Hilary, is a silent director – his daughters attended boarding school and pursued their own careers in London. Hannah qualified as a chartered surveyor and Sarah worked in marketing. In 2010 Sarah returned to Ironbridge to gauge whether she wanted to work in the family firm, but a year later it was necessity rather than choice that prompted her to enter the business.
‘I was at work when I heard that Dad had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer,’ recalls Hannah. ‘It was too advanced for any treatment and within a fortnight he was dead. It was shocking and we were reeling with grief, but we had to step up immediately because after he died on the Saturday there was nobody to open the factory gates on the Monday.’
As the family came to terms with their loss, the sisters realised that they would have to devote themselves full time to Merrythought in order for it to survive (the company was desperately treading water just to stay afloat). Within three years of their taking over the business it had doubled turnover, but a lot of long hours and other sacrifices were required to get there. Sarah’s relationship with her long-term boyfriend foundered because she had no time to invest in it. Hannah, who had just bought a house in the Cotswolds village of Broadway with
After Dad died we had to take over his role immediately
her fiancé couldn’t move into it for three years. ‘I needed to support Mum and be on site every day, so I would live here during the week and just have weekends at my new house.’ Fortunately the union proved strong enough to withstand the separation and Hannah is now married. Sarah now has another boyfriend; he lives in Devon, but she manages to see him at least once a week.
And it never stops being busy at Merrythought, particularly in the run-up to Christmas. ‘There is so much to do and I’ve lost count of the nights we’ve stayed up packing Above: Sarah and Hannah pose with a 6ft guardsman bear outside the Merrythought shop and museum boxes,’ says Hannah. ‘But a family business is all about pitching in. We’ve had to earn the respect of the staff by putting in the hours and understanding the ethos.’ The girls’ father was equally aware of this: when Sarah initially returned to work at the company, his first instruction was for her to go on to the factory floor and make a teddy. ‘I made a very poor job of it,’ she says. ‘But it gave me an insight into the expertise involved.’
The sisters show me around the factory. Christmas songs are playing but there’s no time for chit-chat among the calmly industrious staff. Stored upstairs are rolls and rolls of high-quality mohair and alpaca fabrics, imported from Germany in every colour (chocolate, apricot, cerise, burnt orange, butterscotch) and texture (smooth, whorled, waved). The British market prefers traditional shades of caramel and brown, whereas the Japanese are drawn to more cartoonish shapes and vibrant colours
Downstairs is abuzz with activity as a roll of cream mohair is cut into body parts and sewn together into disjointed leg shapes, torso and head. The head is then packed tightly with wood wool (soft wood shavings) so that it will maintain its form, and the body is filled with polyester wool. Some bears are fitted with a ‘growl box’; others have bespoke livery made to order.
Collectors’ bears are made in limited editions to guarantee their rarity and – as they are more expensive and not destined to be toys – have glass eyes, while standard bears make do with plastic. Paws can be velvet, embroidered with a motif or personalised with a name. Metal discs and rods ensure that the legs are articulated and then the faces are stitched. It takes around 50 minutes and a whole series of expert hands to make a Merrythought bear and each one is a unique little masterpiece.
‘One of the first things we did when we took over Merrythought was to get in touch with previous customers, including Highgrove and the Royal Collection Shop, which is the official retailer at Buckingham Palace,’ says Sarah. ‘That was how the new Highgrove bears came about. Later we met Prince Charles, at an event held for Highgrove suppliers, and we all chatted animatedly about bears.’
The consensus at Merrythought is that the Prince George bear makes a perfect gift for a baby and a Prince Harry bear would be ideal for any single girl to cuddle up to. There are no plans as yet for a Princess Charlotte bear. ‘Our customers generally prefer male teddies over female ones,’ explains Sarah. ‘I think the traditional view is of teddies being masculine.’ They tell me that, a while back, former One Direction heart-throb Zayn Malik commissioned an enormous 8ft-tall bear as a last-ditch gift to try to woo back Little Mix singer Perrie Edwards. It was a flamboyant gesture, but didn’t succeed.
‘That was an amazing bear,’ enthuses Hannah, who has just dispatched a whole raft of 6ft guardsman bears to a chain of stores in the United States. ‘But you know, if a Merrythought bear can’t bring a couple together then there really is no hope for them.’
It’s a sobering thought, but not one to dwell on at this time of year when the festive season is in full swing. ‘Every Merrythought bear leaves this factory to start a unique journey,’ says Sarah. ‘I’m sure that if they could talk they would have tremendous tales of adventures to tell, starting from the moment they are unwrapped on 25 December.
‘But that’s only the beginning; a Merrythought bear isn’t just for Christmas, it’s a friend for life.’ merrythought.co.uk
Zayn Malik ordered an 8ft bear to woo back Perrie Edwards