The most popular thatcher since Maggie! His videos on social media have had 50 million views thanks to his shirtless charms. So how does roofer Shane Stevens climb a ladder in jeans that tight?
- Shane Stevens aka ‘The Thatching Guy’ replaces and repairs old thatched roofs
- His videos show amongst others his trademark ‘smack and a whack’ technique
A chilly but bright winter’s day in Chichester and I’m standing in front of one of the many thatched cottages that adorn the streets of this lovely cathedral city in West Sussex.
It’s a picturesque view — and not just because of the sheer charm of the 12th-century building.
Leaping around on the roof in all that straw is Shane Stevens, better known to his millions of social media fans as ‘The Thatching Guy’.
In the random world of viral internet phenomena, 31-year-old Shane has popped up as one of its most unlikely stars.
Who knew that replacing and repairing old thatched roofs could be so popular? But, clearly, something about all that straw — the sheaves rustling in Shane’s masterful hands — has its attractions.
Leaping around on the roof in all that straw is Shane Stevens (left), better known to his millions of social media fans as ‘The Thatching Guy’ (pictured with Iram Ramzan)
In the random world of viral internet phenomena, 31-year-old Shane has popped up as one of its most unlikely stars
Already, he has half a million followers on the video-sharing app TikTok, while some of the clips on his ‘Thatching Guy’ channel — particularly ones showing his trademark ‘smack and a whack’ smoothing technique — have clocked up nearly 50 million views.
Who on earth is watching them? And, more pertinently, why?
Putting aside Shane’s penchant for tight jeans and shorts, and for doing his thatching topless, how many people can really be all that interested in the ins and outs of fixing a straw roof?
READ: Traditional thatched cottages could disappear from the landscape in 20 years’ time because of a shortage of the right type of straw, Historic England warns
In a bid to get answers, up the ladder I go, to the very spot where tall, blond Shane — a veritable Viking of a man — is fixing the thatch with hazel-wood spars (used to secure the layers of straw or reed).
‘It was my brother’s idea,’ he says, when I ask how it all started. ‘He said people were interested in my work and what I do.
‘So I posted a video last year and it got a million views overnight. I didn’t expect it. Even to get to a thousand, I’d have been happy.’
Part of the appeal, no doubt, is that thatching harks back to simpler times, and provides respite from the otherwise frenetic world of social media.
And it is telling that Shane’s most popular videos include those featuring ‘thatching sounds’: the soporific drip-drop of rain running off the thatch; the clip-clip of shears snipping away the ends of straw; the thudding of a mallet banging in spars; or a close-up of his hands running through clumps of moss that can invade the thatch.
Other clips are introduced by Shane himself, facing the camera, sometimes topless, and greeting his fans with his characteristic, ‘Alright?’, in his rural twang.
He does not shy from titillation, it must be said. Take the video that catches Shane on a shorts-only day, in which the camera homes in on his taut backside.
The thousand or so comments in that particular clip have been left by mostly female fans.
‘Suddenly my roof needs thatching,’ writes one. And another: ‘I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.’
Who knew that replacing and repairing old thatched roofs could be so popular? But, clearly, something about all that straw — the sheaves rustling in Shane’s masterful hands — has its attractions
Already, he has half a million followers on the video-sharing app TikTok, while some of the clips on his ‘Thatching Guy’ channel — particularly ones showing his trademark ‘smack and a whack’ smoothing technique — have clocked up nearly 50 million views (pictured with Iram Ramzan)
The thousand or so comments in that particular clip have been left by mostly female fans.
‘Suddenly my roof needs thatching,’ writes one. And another: ‘I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.’
Die-hard devotees are also snapping up his range of ‘Thatching Guy’ merchandise, which includes T-shirts and caps with his catchphrase ‘A little smack and a whack’ emblazoned on them (more, in a moment, of what this means).
READ MORE: Fire guts ‘beautiful’ Grade I-listed 11th century church after ‘a spark during repairs sets its thatched roof alight’
When I catch up with Shane, he has been working on Grade II-listed St James Cottage for a week.
One of the oldest houses in Chichester — and the oldest that Shane has worked on — it was ordained as a hospital for lepers by Matilda, the wife of Henry I, in the 1100s.
Most of the building was destroyed by fire in 1781 but part of the old structure remains.
Owners Simon and Bernie Trundle snapped up the three-bedroom, beamed property, with an ancient well in the garden, after seeing it for sale online in 2018.
Knowing that one day they’d have to replace the roof, didn’t they worry its upkeep would prove to be expensive?
‘We must have been mad to buy it,’ admits Simon. ‘But we both fell in love with it. We’re doing all this work not just for ourselves, but for the next set of owners.’
It’s been something of a bonus — and a talking point with friends and family — to discover that their thatcher is a celebrity.
‘We didn’t know he was famous when we booked him!’ says Simon.
Thankfully, the cottage roof was well maintained by previous owners, meaning that Shane’s repair work will cost them around £10,000 — less than a quarter of the cost of a completely new roof.
‘We’re only re-ridging the top,’ Shane explains, ‘taking off the moss and redressing it; taking out any lumps.’
Down in the street below, a young woman pushing a pram looks skywards and recognises him from a recent TV interview.
She lets out a shriek of excitement: ‘Didn’t I see you on the telly last night?’ Shane, a keen amateur rugby player, is getting used to such attention.
Who on earth is watching them? And, more pertinently, why? Putting aside Shane’s penchant for tight jeans and shorts, and for doing his thatching topless, how many people can really be all that interested in the ins and outs of fixing a straw roof
In a bid to get answers, up the ladder I go (pictured), to the very spot where tall, blond Shane — a veritable Viking of a man — is fixing the thatch with hazel-wood spars (used to secure the layers of straw or reed)
‘The women just want me to take my top off,’ he sighs. ‘And I do get teased a lot for my tight jeans.’
Alas, today, I’m out of luck, because the master thatcher is wrapped up against sub-zero temperatures; his heavily tattooed legs well covered.
He accepts that sex appeal is a factor in his new-found fame, but many of those drawn to him online, Shane insists, are genuinely interested in the work that he does.
READ MORE: Historic Michelin-starred pub is destroyed in blaze: One of best known restaurants in north of England is ‘reduced to ashes’ after fire started in thatched roof of 14th century inn
And who cares where the attention comes from if his TV interviews and social media profile help raise the profile of this highly-skilled but struggling trade to a 21st century audience?
‘A lot of youngsters don’t realise how good it can be to do a trade,’ says Shane.
‘They just want to be footballers or whatever. But I do get a lot of messages on social media from young people, asking me how they can get onto an apprenticeship scheme.’
The work, he says, is ‘not as physically demanding as you might imagine. But it is murder on the knees.’
Britons have been thatching their roofs since the Bronze Age, using locally available wheat, straw and reeds — all effective at keeping out the rain.
Over the centuries, the craft has remained virtually unchanged.
Fresh layers of straw are held in place and connected to older thatch with pre-twisted spars and liggers (split hazel or willow rods used to form decorative patterns on ridges).
Layers create a thick coat of thatch. Finally, a top ridge covers and protects the last line of fixings, and completes the roof. Done by a professional, it can last up to 45 years.
Once considered to be highly economical, by the 19th century thatching was known as ‘poor man’s roofing’ and fell into decline as tiled roofs came into their own.
In 1800, close to one million buildings in England and Wales were thatched. Today, that total has fallen to 100,000.
But renewed interest in preserving historic buildings and using sustainable materials is giving thatched roofing a much-needed boost.
‘It was my brother’s idea,’ he says, when I ask how it all started. ‘He said people were interested in my work and what I do. So I posted a video last year and it got a million views overnight. I didn’t expect it. Even to get to a thousand, I’d have been happy’
Part of the appeal, no doubt, is that thatching harks back to simpler times, and provides respite from the otherwise frenetic world of social media
But with a new thatched roof costing up to £45,000, this time round it is well-heeled homeowners, rather than the poor, who are seeking it.
Costs have gone up dramatically, largely because of the scarcity of straw and reeds, which are not produced in sufficient quantities in the UK and often have to be imported. Covid and the war in Ukraine have also worsened the situation.
Back on top of St James Cottage, Shane is stapling a layer of thatch into place, using a spar — a branch of split hazel wood that has been tapered to a point at each end — and twisting it in the middle into a V-shape before plunging it into bundles of straw.
Once it’s in place, it’s time to smooth the surface — aka giving it a ‘smack and a whack’, to ensure the thatch is ‘well-dressed’.
He picks up a leggett — a tool like a spade with a flat aluminium head and a honeycomb pattern on the back — and hands it to me. ‘Give it a little smack and a whack,’ he says and I dutifully oblige.
It takes five years to train as a thatcher. These days there are around 800 in the UK, about half as many as 50 years ago.
Karen Crouch, from the Thatch Advice Centre, is helping set up a government apprenticeship scheme to address the skills shortage.
‘I’ve spoken to people who must wait until 2025 to get access to a thatcher,’ she says. ‘Some homeowners are resorting to doing it themselves, which is far from ideal.’
An apprenticeship certainly worked for Shane. He lives in the nearby village of Felpham with — amorous fans, brace yourselves — his wife, Lauren, and 17-month-old son Albie.
He started out as a scaffolder, but decided to retrain when he was 21. ‘I knew nothing about thatching before I did this,’ he says.
‘I loved working outdoors. My family was very arty, so I was thinking of becoming a blacksmith or going into stonemasonry. But as soon as I started this, I knew it was what I wanted to do — I’ve never looked back.’
It takes five years to train as a thatcher. These days there are around 800 in the UK, about half as many as 50 years ago
An apprenticeship certainly worked for Shane. He lives in the nearby village of Felpham with — amorous fans, brace yourselves — his wife, Lauren, and 17-month-old son Albie
He started out as a scaffolder, but decided to retrain when he was 21. ‘I knew nothing about thatching before I did this,’ he says
Shane adds: ‘My dad was very jealous — he wanted to be a thatcher. My mum loved the fact that I was going into something with a lot of history in it. I love how old the houses are and how far back thatching dates.’
Many of his followers clearly feel the same. Around 60 per cent come from the U.S., and many are bemused by the age of the properties he works on.
‘They don’t see buildings like this in America,’ he says. ‘Some ask me, ‘Why do you guys still live in the Stone Age?’
‘They can’t grasp that a building like this is older than when their country was founded.’
For the time being, he plans to continue making videos with the help of colleague Joe Comley.
‘It’s good fun, we enjoy making them,’ says 28-year-old Joe. ‘I get a few nice comments, but they’re mostly for Shane. I just do his legwork.’
What, then, does Shane’s wife make of his videos — particularly the topless ones? ‘Erm. She wasn’t too impressed at first!’ he laughs.
‘But now she’s pushing me to do as much as I can online; she’s really supportive.’
Soon it will be time to add the finishing touches to the roof of St James Cottage. Every thatcher, Shane explains, finishes off his work with his own trademark pattern.
He likes to sign and seal his own work with lattice-patterned woodwork, something he calls — to the delight of fans — ‘little kisses’.
While he is pleased his videos have garnered a whole new generation of thatching enthusiasts, his hope, ultimately, is that others will follow in his footsteps, ensuring this quintessentially English craft will be preserved for generations to come.
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