Teddy’s bearing up well

Named after Theodore Roosevelt in 1902, the cuddly toys are still going strong. I’ve had mine for 50 years, says John Daly

MINE’S Ted, what’s yours called? Not an original name, but I was five when I got my teddy bear. Over the intervening half century, Ted’s been a witness to my life.

His toe got chopped helping me learn to ride a bicycle, he lost an eye when we blundered through a briar hedge after ‘apple slogging’ in a neighbour’s orchard, he got a tar stain on his leg when I dropped him on roadworks, and a torn ear when the family dog got jealous of our relationship.

Ted was carried piggyback on my first climb of Carrauntoohill, he viewed Dublin from the top of Nelson’s Pillar a few weeks before it was blown up, and shook hands with Goofy at Disneyland — but only after a body frisk by security staff.

I even considered taking him on my first date, with Ellen Murphy, aged 9, but left him on the sofa watching The Flintstones after Mom’s advice that “three is always a crowd when it comes to romance.” Peter Gabriel put it best with the song Me & My Teddy Bear: “I love my teddy bear with just one eye and no hair/Every night he’s with me when I climb up the stairs/And by my bed he listens until I say my prayers.”

Everybody loves a teddy bear. In every home, there’s likely a few nestled in delicate wrapping paper in an old tea chest, waiting for the next generation. Even for adults, the comforting hug of your favourite cuddly creature is still an impulse.

Even the teddy bear history has a feel-good vibe. Legend has it US President Theodore Roosevelt was hunting in Mississippi in 1902. After a day-long chase, he cornered an exhausted black bear in a willow grove. Refusing to shoot the bear, because it would have “been unsportsmanlike after it gave such fine sport”, Roosevelt’s generosity became a famous Washington Post cartoon by Clifford Berryman. Toymaker Morris Michtom saw the cartoon and was inspired to create a stuffed bear cub he called ‘Teddy’s bear’.

Michtom sent one to the White House and received the president’s permission to use his name. Within weeks, the craze took hold across America. Ladies carried them in their handbags — a century before Paris Hilton did. So taken was Roosevelt, he used a teddy as his re-election mascot. Shortly after, the teddy bear achieved iconic status when John Bratton and Jimmy Kennedy composed The Teddy Bears’ Picnic.

“Teddy bears are very big, no question,” says Anke Morgenroth, of Bear Essentials in Cavan. “We do a huge amount of restoration, with some of the bears well over 60 years old. People are extremely attached to their bears, they remind them of childhood and the good times they had all those years ago.” Adult buyers outnumber the young — especially in collectibles. “We will get many people buying for children, of course, often when a baby is born and the teddy is put away until they are five or six years old,” Anke says. Stocking a range of teddies priced from €5 to €700, Bear Essentials caters for all.

“The collectible range starts around €50, but we will often see people pay much more than that to have the teddy they want. They never go out of fashion,” she says. “And I’m sure they never will.” What is so great about the €700 bear? “He is a life-size teddy made with mohair of such a high quality he will easily be around, and in perfect shape, in 100 years’ time,” she says.

Last February, one of Ireland’s best-loved stores, The Doll’s Hospital and Teddy Bear Clinic, owned by Melissa and Chris Nolan, on Dublin’s South Great Georges’ Street, faced closure after 80 years. At the last moment — just like a teddy adventure — a white knight came to the rescue with an even better premises at the Powerscourt Townhouse Centre, South William Street, a mere paw flick from their old location. “It’s been a lovely year for us, just having to move across the road from our old place,” says Melissa. “We created a small museum here, a memorabilia experience, that has really attracted many people to come and visit. It gives people the chance for a walk down memory lane, which they love.”

Seventy percent of their custom is adults buying and repairing teddies for themselves, so the Nolan’s are accustomed to the foibles and desires of their clientele. “Only earlier today, we had a gentleman who wanted his teddy bear cleaned and a new leg attached — he’s had it since the 1930s, and it’s been all around the world with him. People get even more sentimental about their bears the older they get,” she says. Just in time for Christmas, the Nolans’ will have their book, Tales From The Doll’s Hospital, available in bookshops. “It’s really a compilation of the many stories about people’s bears and dolls and how they were brought back to life,” she says. “Some of the tales are tremendously heart-warming.”

So intrigued was photographer Mark Nixon by the bond between adult and teddy, he launched an exhibition, Much Loved, devoted to it.

The exhibition features portraits of teddy bears, including those belonging to Gerry Ryan, Miriam O’Callaghan, and Rowan Atkinson’s teddy from the Mr Bean television series.

As an adult, Ryan carried his around and, after watching the TV show Brideshead Revisited, named him Alowishes. He often mentioned him on his radio show.

O’Callaghan’s teddy has survived multiple generations of family, and her five-year-old, Jamie, believes he comes out at night to play — just like the toys in Toy Story. “This project started as a result of photographing my 10-year-old son Calum’s Peter Rabbit,” says Nixon.

“He was given Peter by his great grandmother, as a baby, and, in spite of the scores of other teddys and soft toys now residing in several black-plastic sacks in the attic, Peter stuck, and has slept with Calum every night of his life ever since.”

* MuchLoved, Mark Nixon’s exhibition of teddy bear portraits, runs until Saturday, December 1, (Tuesday to Saturday), from 10am to 5pm, at Mark’s studio at 62 Clontarf Road, Dublin.