SWEDISH CLOGS – MADE IN SCARBOROUGH
By Yolanda Carslaw
When Catherine Farnaby left school, her dad, a bread man at Woodhead, took her on a tour of potential workplaces. A factory job didn’t appeal to the teenager but she liked the idea of working at a small family business on Queen Street called Bjorn Clogs.
The owners, Bjorn and Judy, gave her an interview but picked another candidate. A few days later, though, Catherine was called back as their first choice hadn’t worked out.
“They wanted me after all,” says Catherine. “I remember standing in the shop like a frightened little girl but soon I was taught to make clogs and I’ve been doing it for 41 years.”
Over the years Catherine, who now co-owns the business, has vastly expanded its range of Swedish-style clogs. She hand-makes them in the basement, which has barely changed since she started. Rolls of leather are stacked in the middle of the well-lit room and one wall is given over to shelves of clog bases, adult sizes 36 to 46 and children’s down to seven. Lining the room are workbenches bearing solid mechanical machinery – no new-fangled tech required.
“The bases are alder wood from Sweden with soles attached and the leather comes from Keighley,” says Catherine. “Our machines are old. We have a clicking press and different-shaped knives for making the leather upper. Then there’s the sewing machine, the lasting machine and the staple gun I bought second-hand – identical to the one I started with. You talk to the machines nicely and they behave themselves.
“At first we just made the bog-standard clog in navy, white, red or black, then brown and tan. But it’s amazing how many tweaks you can do, like studs, cuffs, patterned perforations or fringes. Some styles need sewing, such as the clog boot or the Joe/Jo, which has a turnover. We also do a t-bar and various sandals.”
To ‘last’ the clog, Catherine heats the leather so it’s soft, then puts a foot-shaped last into the upper in the lasting machine to give it shape.
“The point of clogs is that they’re extremely comfortable,” she says.
“You keep them by the door to do the garden or the bins. People wear them at work and they’re especially good if you’re standing on hard floors. They’re fashionable too: in lockdown I made loads for a top-end website and I get orders from Mahala for online sales. We’ve sent clogs to New Zealand, the US, Spain, Greece… we’ve even sold them to Sweden.”
Catherine can make a couple of dozen pairs a week alongside running the shop. “A plain pair – our biggest seller – can take me 10 minutes,” she says, “and I often make them to order as we can’t keep every size of every style in stock.”
So is there a snag to clog-making? Yes, says Catherine. They last too long. “A lady came in recently who’d had hers for 25 years,” she relates. “I said I was glad she’d come back for a new pair at last.
Clogs £45-£89; 6 Queen Street, Scarborough bjornclogs.co.uk
Original article from Scarborough Spy. ‘Scarborough Spy is an A5 print magazine published eight times a year. It celebrates all the great things going on in the town, little and large, musical and creative, active and sociable. Spy is for readers who live in Scarborough, have moved here, are visiting or are on holiday, it contains at least 15 pages of what’s on listings plus interviews, profiles, reviews and more. It is distributed in cafes, libraries and venues all over town and available on subscription at £2 per issue.’
Copyright Yolanda Carslaw