Quirky Derbyshire pit town emporium is promoting wellbeing in the community

“It’s about the simple things in life and appreciating what’s here and now,” said Amanda Holden, 58, who has been running Hygge Emporium in Clay Cross since 2017.

A shop filled with handmade arts and crafts, the mechanics of this quirky find built around a Danish philosophy the shop is named after.

“It’s a way of life I’ve tried to follow for a long time. I was previously in childcare, so it sort of came from that. Forest schools, open-ended play and I think it does run through the shop as well. Everybody that’s in here, that makes things, they’re all quite happy with their little lot. If more comes along then great, but that’s not what its about. It’s the journey, it’s what’s happening now.”

When asked how to pronounce Hygge, a smile breaks across Amanda’s face as she makes a closed-fist stance like an all-in wrestler, says “I always tell people to think of a viking,” and then in a surprisingly deep voice, bellows “Hyoo-guh!”

Humour seems a big part of the emporium. The shop door opens and in walks a lady with a handful of handmade witches and fairies.

“This is Jo,” says Amanda, and then turns to Jo, arms out wide: “I’m in an interview, darling!”

When asked why she makes what she makes, Jo says “I like being away with the fairies”. Does it make you feel good? “Oh yes,” she says, “it’s therapy”.

Amanda gives us more backstory on the journey she’s taken.

“I think now I’m in my fifties, I’m a lot happier person than I was in my twenties and thirties. I think there were certain dramas happening in my life, that I couldn’t control. I was feeling upset, emotionally tangled, and once I’d cut certain ties I just saw everything so much clearer. And it was like, wow! This is great!”

She pauses, then says, “I think in my younger years, I used to get a little bit frustrated because I wanted a little bit more. And I remember my first husband, bless him, saying you’re just not happy with your little lot, and I probably wasn’t. Age has a lot to do with it, you’ve got rid of all the dramas, the keeping up with the Joneses. And you know, there’s nothing wrong with aspiration, I’m not saying don’t go for it, but make sure that’s what you want to do, and make sure that it will really make you happy.”

This simple honesty, again, seems to fit within the ethics of this place. To our left is an open doorway to the business next door, Graze, an independent cafe that works in league with Hygge, an open hand agreement where customers can enjoy a shared access to both venues. Browse some handmade pottery, a hand-painted duck in a Batman outfit, then coffee and cake? Yes please.

The emotional drive of Amanda’s journey is clear, but what about the practical?

“My first grandchild was born in 2017, and I’d always said I didn’t want my kids going to work to literally pay the mortgage and the childcare fees. So, I wanted to be in a position where I could look after the children as well, so I thought I needed to start looking for something. I live down the road from here, and the shop next door but one was coming up for rent, and that’s where I started.

“I’d always done upcycling, making the best of charity shop finds, or furniture I’d already got, but I used a different paint back then, and somebody said have you tried Frenchic? And oh my days… so me being me, I researched it and they were looking for stockists. So I thought right, I could do that. But I couldn’t pay the rent just selling that. But I had a little bit of savings, and I could pay the rent for a while. I could set up the shop, I could buy the paint stock, but what about the rest of the stock?”

And this is where the Hygge Emporium becomes a hub for local artists: “I’d been in touch with certain companies. I wanted handmade, and they could get me handmade, but it was people that lived in London, Cornwall… everywhere else. So I thought no. We’ve got people round here. and I knew people that were crafters. Some of those that came on board knew different people, so gradually, it became all local businesses that hand-make, and I didn’t have to buy the stock, because they would pay me a commission, which helped with the upkeep of the business.”

Looking around the shop, each crafter has their own space, a space that Amanda encourages them to organise in their own style.

Individual and particular, the stock is so varied it feels like walking into an exhibition, the theme: community. From clocks made of reclaimed wood to hand-knitted baby clothes, from flavoured honey to wildlife paintings, from handmade jewellery to painted pebbles, every space alive with creativity, and every space filled by a local maker.

Amanda points to a display of glass-made pieces, ornamental and striking: pumpkins, puffins, penguins, witches, cats, various jewellery, the skill in the making, obvious. “To see them grow, their confidence grow, their business grow, it gives me goose pimples thinking about it.”

Sue, a retired lady who crafts these glass pieces, is an example of how Amanda encourages local people to believe in their talents. “A lot of them say, well, I do it, but I don’t think anyone will buy them. And I’m like, oh they will.”

Another example is Celia, a lady in her seventies, whose artwork is a stand-out. Adorning a staircase to the second floor, her pieces are originals from the 1960s, once used by Harrods in London for adverts, the women depicted have grace, style, and a strength that ebbs from every image. Amanda nods. “She comes in and does little workshops, she’s amazing.”

Are the workshops popular? “Crazy… autumn and winter especially. Dark nights… the creativity, the social side of it… I’ve had people come into the shop and say, ooh, if only this shop was in Bakewell. I say, well, I don’t want it to be, I love this shop here. I’ve lived in Clay Cross for eighteen years, and I just think the community is so open to lots of things, so accepting.”

Arguably, what we see in this shop, is a reflection of what seems to be happening in Clay Cross. A growing mix of individuality that glues itself together, an echo of that curious concept: if nothing matches, then everything does.

“There’s lots of independent businesses, and we do pull together, lockdown was a big awakening, because everybody had to use their immediate environment. And now, we’ve got an awful lot of people coming into Clay Cross. People saying they can’t believe how much it’s changed. Today we’ve had at least six people that have never been here before saying oh, I didn’t even know you were here.”

And here we are reminded of Amanda’s simple philosophy, this positive act of “appreciating what’s here and now and relevant to you.”