Diarmuid Gavin: 'It all culminated when the repo man came to take my stereo system'

In the early ‘90s, Diarmuid Gavin was 26 and on a “downward spiral” that saw him reach rock-bottom. The renowned garden designer and Chelsea Flower Show winner tells Helen O’Callaghan about the weekend when everything came to a head – and about a resolve he made in those 24 hours that was the first step to his subsequent success.

Diarmuid Gavin: "The look that man gave me… it really got to me. I was going through such a rough patch — this was just another layer on top, a very distinctive one."

The 24 hours where everything changed for me — a Friday/Saturday in 1991, I was 26, living in a rented basement flat in Rathmines.

I was a landscaper — creating gardens around Ireland but mainly Dublin. I was good at it, there was plenty of work. The issue for me — garden design then was very staid, you couldn’t do anything that was any way left of centre.

I wanted to make gardens that were different, to embrace new ideas, take contemporary influence from pop videos, architecture, fashion, car design — make gardens that wouldn’t just be admired by my mum’s generation, but by all ages. 

It was a different type of creativity and technology. But clients hadn’t seen this anywhere and, understandably, nobody wanted me to experiment on their dime.

I started not enjoying my work. I became desperately unreliable — not turning up, leaving a job halfway through. I probably didn’t do it too many times but it was a huge departure for me. I started not getting paid. I was very unhappy — if you can’t carry out your very essence, it has a real effect on how you behave, on your attitude to life and the day-to-day.

It caught up with me almost immediately, five or six weeks in. You could spoof the landlord a bit, say you’re late with the rent, every student has done it. But I wasn’t a student anymore— I should have been providing for myself.

It all culminated one Friday evening, when the man from the TV rental company came to repossess the stereo system — record player, speakers. People hired things back then, TV, video recorder. This was a really nice stereo system for only a couple of quid a week— I couldn’t even afford that.

As the man packed it into his van, he looked at me kind of sadly, a look of genuine pity and mild concern — he’d taken televisions back before, but never anything as small as someone’s rented stereo. 

The look that man gave me… it really got to me. I was going through such a rough patch — this was just another layer on top, a very distinctive one.

The landlord came the following morning for the keys to the flat. I’d known him years, he was a very nice guy, the house was nice. Whether he made the decision, or I just knew I had to go, I can’t clearly recall — but it was inevitable.

I’d rung my friend, he cycled over, balanced my two black bin-liners of clothes on the crossbars of his bike and rode back to his dad’s house in Crumlin where he stored them in the shed ’til I could retrieve them.

I walked the 20 minutes into town, all the time thinking what a mess I’d made of everything, how I’d let everybody down. My contemporaries were getting married and buying houses. There was only one place for me to go — back to the family home. I didn’t want to — that was admitting failure without saying it.

I got to Dame Street, stood, waited for the 16A to bring me to Rathfarnham. I let a few pass by — getting there faster wasn’t really the point. I was in a haze. I eventually got on one.

And I remember this very clearly, going upstairs on that bus… there was another rhythm in my mind that involved steps… that this had to be rock bottom, I couldn’t go on living like this, letting people down, at this age. 

And as I was walking up, I thought ‘every step from now on, no matter how small, has to be in the right direction’.

And that was the moment of resolve, that ‘the next conversation you have, the next time you get a call to do someone’s garden, the next whatever-it-is — even if this step doesn’t appear to be going anywhere, even if it’s just the normal day-to-day — you have to do it’. 

I was giving myself a stern talking-to, no great revelation, just turning up for work — do your job, watch and listen, and you learn.

The change was not momentous. It was very subtle, it was in my head. My dream — to practice my art form, taking in contemporary influences — I didn’t know yet what I was capable of.

Failure grounded me. It made me reach a place where I had to decide whether I was just a fantasist who talked ideas, or did I have something I believed I could do. The real lesson was that dreaming about it isn’t going to make it happen — that ‘if anything is going to make it happen, you’re going to — and you won’t by having no place to live or not having anything’.

Because the answer is always with you. You have to find it, pull it out. And when you start doing, things begin falling into place — opportunity rises, you get some luck, or you make some luck.

It was all part of the process for me to push myself.

The PTSB Ideal Home Show returns to RDS Simmonscourt, Friday to Sunday, April 11-13. It brings the best of Ireland’s home improvement professionals and suppliers under one roof to showcase latest innovations in home build & renovations. Tickets at www.idealhome.ie/.

• Diarmuid Gavin will be at the Dunnes Stores Chef’s Live Theatre, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, giving his top tips on keeping your garden blooming this summer season.