A Jan of all trades

Photo by Marta Gruszecka

After getting married to an artist, who he knew from his childhood, he moved to Andrychów, a small town between Kraków and Bielsko-Biała, which is famous for its cotton and textile industry. There, Jan got a job at Andropol, a local textile enterprise, where he remained until 1996. He quit after his health started deteriorating from long-time exposure to harmful chemicals. First, he went on disability leave and then retired. But he never stopped working.

From dusk to dawn

Already in August 1985 Jan opened his workshop where to this day he fixes umbrellas and sewing machines. Located in Andrychów at Krakowska Street number 128, he had been making extra money on the side, complementing his salary from Andropol.

“Before I came, a different umbrella-maker had been working here. But he led an indecent life and the city kindly asked him to leave the premises. It was my wife who found out that they were looking for someone new and convinced me to take the job. I thought that in addition to fixing umbrellas, I could also mend sewing machines,” Jan tells me.

From the very beginning demand for his services exceeded expectations. People started bringing tons of umbrellas and the line to his workshop, which is located on the second floor, would flow out onto the street. “There was a day when I got 60 umbrellas to fix!” he recalls, adding that, in the beginning, he did not know how to work fast and had to spend more time on each umbrella. Customers had to wait for some time, even half a year, for their umbrellas to be fixed. But with time, he learnt all the tricks of the trade. And his work would never end. On weekdays, he would finish work in the factory and go straight to his workshop where he would stay late, sometimes until 11pm. He worked Saturdays, as well fixing things from dusk to dawn: “I spent my whole youth fixing these umbrellas,” Jan laughs.

In the last years of communism Polish shops were quite empty. People could not buy much stuff and they had to maintain what they already had. When something broke, it had to get fixed. This naturally ensured demand for Jan’s services which remained high. “At times, I wanted to go crazy with the amount of work, but I never said no. I like my work too much,” he explains nostalgically.

Satisfaction

Jan stresses that today he has much fewer clients. People throw umbrellas out, knowing that they can buy new ones. Yet in his view, those umbrellas you can buy fairly cheaply are simply junk. Not worth the money spent. One gust of wind will be suffice to break it. Yet, even now, Jan is not jobless. His clients bring in all kinds of umbrellas. Women’s umbrellas – as he calls them – which are smaller, and men’s umbrellas – the larger ones. There are also umbrellas that people use to protect themselves from the sun, as well as those for garden swings. They have holes or are worn and torn. Jan replaces the fabric. He repairs holes and sews fabric, or he replaces the broken metal pole, wires and tips. He sometimes has to first pull the umbrella apart and to then put it back together. This may sound like a lot of work, but Jan says it gives him a lot of satisfaction.

Half of his workshop is filled with tools, which includes all sorts of screwdrivers, wrenches and repair parts. Until recently, they all came from Częstochowa – a city in central Poland known as a pilgrimage site. In the first years of his workshop he had to go and pick the parts up himself. Later he began ordering them by phone. Today, they are harder to come by as the producer no longer exists. Jan uses the same tools he has used all these years. With them he has fixed thousands of umbrellas. The oldest one he repaired was 80 years old. It was beautifully embroidered. All Jan had to do was to slightly mend it and it was then brought back to life. “It should still work for quite some time,” he says.

No shoddy workmanship

The COVID-19 pandemic has pushed many people to start sewing masks at home. As a result, some old sewing machines were taken out of the closets. When it turned out they did not work, they were brought to Jan to fix. The mechanism of a sewing machine is much more complicated than a watch. It is propelled by an engine, but also includes other smaller parts, such as, the needle case, the drum, the connecting rod, the lever, the band and the reel. A machine should not break needles, get stuck while sewing or be too loud. “To work without any interruption, it needs to be regulated and lubricated,” Jan explains.

To repair a sewing machine, Jan takes a few hours to a few days, depending on what is broken. The problem is that many people try to fix their own machines and end up making it worse. Jan understands that and works on each machine as much as needed. He says he would “not give his clients shoddy workmanship” whether it was during a pandemic or not.

That is why his clients come from all over Poland: Kraków, Bielsko-Biała and other cities. He even had people come from Germany. This January, a client from nearby Bulowice brought a one-hundred-year old machine. This was probably the oldest machine that Jan ever worked on. It belonged to the client’s aunt and was in the family since the man could remember. Propelled by foot, it could only do simple stiches, no zig-zags. The customer complained that the machine would break the fabric and that it was impossible to use. After examining it, Jan knew he needed to get the foot regulator fixed, fill up the tendon plate and then clean it thoroughly.

“Today, it works perfectly,” he smiles with content. In his view, these old machines are much easier to fix than the newer ones which are made from cheap plastic. Thankfully, you can still buy, although with difficulties, the parts for the old machines, which – if well-kept – can last as long as half a century,” Jan tells me. There is no need throw them away. Things only get complicated when there are no more parts to buy. Then, not even Jan can help.

The only one

In August, it will be 35 years since Jan opened his workshop on Krakowska Street. This is a place with a soul. It is probably the only one of its kind in this part of the world. Its operation is advertised by three different signs that are placed inside and outside the building. One of them reads: “Repair of umbrellas and sewing machines. Recommended. Opened from 12:00 pm until 2:30 pm.” To enter the place, you need to take narrow, creaking stairs. As you climb, it is good to watch your head. The old building is very different from modern architecture. And yet the workshop charms you with its cleanness and colours. You get the sense that time has stopped when you are here. But not for Jan or his clients who did not allow him to close the workshop when the idea once entered his mind.

They said there was nobody else they could go to, if they wanted their stuff fixed. In addition to sewing machines and umbrellas, Jan also repairs handbags, luggage and baby prams. “I can fix everything that people need to get fixed,” he laughs. Indeed, he has many skills, including small-object mechanics, plumbing, carpentry and electric work. Thanks to them he was able to remodel the place he works in by himself. Before he came here it was a murky cave.

In today’s automated world, people like Jan are hard to come by. An umbrella-maker is a profession close to extinction. With sewing machines it may be a bit easier, as they can be sent for servicing, but to get an umbrella fixed, a bag or a suitcase repaired, you need to make a visit to Jan’s workshop. Back in time, Jan would say there were a few umbrella-makers in the region, but today all of the workshops are closed. “Their owners were older than me,” he explains adding that he will also work as long he has strength. In fact, not to give up on working was a recommendation he received from his doctor.

“Thanks to this work, I can be in touch with people and not just sit in front of TV with my feet on the coffee table,” Jan laughs. His clients are interesting people. Among them are doctors, teachers, university professors, nuns, priests, you name it! Each brings a story from the outside world. Jan always learns something new from them. He even talks politics with some. He says that the money he makes is not great, but it is enough to help him pay his bills. It is more of a passion than a money-making business – he truly enjoys fixing things for others.

Translated by Iwona Reichardt

Marta Gruszecka is a cultural journalist based in Kraków.

Poland, umbrella maker