Words and images by Carol Altmann

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #DC943C;”] I [/dropcap]f it’s true that people subconsciously choose a pet dog that mirrors themselves, it is appropriate that Warrnambool City Councillor Peter Hulin owns a 68kg Rottweiler called Boris.

Big Boris, who Peter jokingly refers to as a Chihuahua cross, is – like his owner – from strong German stock, intensely loyal to those he respects and not one to take any crap when provoked.

“Does Boris reflect you?” I ask Peter during our conversation at his Koroit St upholstery business, where a stretched-out Boris looks like a couch blocking the doorway.

“In many ways, yes. He is as placid as can be and would not hurt a fly when he is out here, hanging around, but come to my place after dark and try and take something and see how you go then,” Peter says, laughing.

“It was like when I grabbed a guy who had hurt my son,” he adds, referring to an incident from 2008 when he attacked a man in Port Fairy, who, Peter argued, was part of an ongoing campaign of harassment against his son, John.

Peter was fined, but no conviction was recorded, after being charged with recklessly causing injury and unlawful assault.

Peter has similarly been accused of being too aggressive in his role as councillor since being elected in 2008, but others – like the steady stream of ratepayers who visit his shop to seek advice or a listening ear – consider him a hero of the common person.

Perhaps more than any other councillor, he is either loved or loathed, with not much space in between.

“It’s not personal to me and I don’t take it personally. I just believe there is a better way,” Peter says of the criticism he receives from those who would prefer he remain quiet.

“We need people elected to council with the ability to move this city toward the place it should be, and could easily be: we are not elected to be puppets.”

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #DC943C;”] P [/dropcap]eter grew up the son of an upholsterer and World War II veteran who, Peter says, could be extremely violent as a result of the mental trauma he suffered after fighting on the Russian front line for the Germans.

It was an often traumatic childhood, but one that Peter says has given him a strong survival instinct.

As a teenager, Peter was apprenticed to his father and, during this time, witnessed an event that shaped him for life. As Peter tells it, his father had complained to the council for years about an unsafe auto engine business at the back of his shop in Kepler St (at what is now Day Kitty), warning it was a major fire hazard.

The inevitable happened and a fire from the engine business swept through a number of buildings, including a garage that housed the Hulin’s new car. Peter, who was then 17, and his father attempted to retrieve the vehicle but such was the shock and strain, his father suffered a heart attack and died in front of him.

Peter saw the tragedy as an avoidable problem that, because of the council’s ineptitude, had catastrophic consequences.

“I understood then that if you had a problem, you sort it out: you don’t pretend that it is not happening,” he says.

“When someone comes to me with a problem now, I try and sort it out for them and get something done, and I cannot see why that is considered being radical.”

[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #DC943C;”]T [/dropcap]he difficult and ultimately tragic relationship with his father saw Peter seek out his own role models and he has several older mentors who continue to guide his thinking.

He also absorbs information like a sponge, listening to ABC 774 rather than 3AW and reading biographies on inspiring leaders such as Abraham Lincoln.

“I want to know what I don’t know,” he says.

A passionate, rather than a passive, approach has always been Peter Hulin’s style. Before being elected to council (it took two attempts), he wrote copious letters to the local paper, outlining where Warrnambool could do and be much better.

“Those same issues are the ones I am still fighting for today – CBD renewal, pedestrian safety, the environment,” he says.

“I fix things for a living. I can see the potential in someone’s old piece of furniture and what can be done with it. And I can see Warrnambool bursting with potential, but it is being held back.”

With council elections to be held next year, Peter Hulin will again be among the candidates and, if re-elected, has no intention of pulling his head in.

“Making the right decisions can be hard: it is easy to just blob along and not rock the boat, but I am not like that,” he says.

“I know who I am and what I am made of and not many people can say that. If you stand up for what you believe in, it can be very difficult, but nobody can question your integrity in being prepared to do it.”

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[box]A warning: by the end of this story, you will probably remember all of the stunning Australian-made furniture that you either threw away, saw poking out of a skip, or gave to a flatmate in the 1980s, and may end up in tears.[/box]

[dropcap style=”color: #dc943c;”] D [/dropcap]espite working all day surrounded by chairs, stools and couches in various states of repair and disrepair, Jack van Roo and partner Meg Jarrett rarely have time to put their feet up.

Since opening their two-person business – Be Seated – early last year, the pair has been tapping into the huge demand for original, mid-century Australian furniture (1950s and 60s) that has been restored to its beautiful, retro glory.

Names like Fred Lowen (Tessa and Fler brands), Grant and Mary Featherston, Fred Ward and Clement Meadmore have become the ultimate in collectable cool – not to mention quality – and their original furniture pieces have become hotly sought after both nationally and internationally.

It seems more than a little odd, then, to find Jack and Meg operating not from a high-profile shop in inner-suburban Melbourne, where they used to live, but a shed in the Portland industrial estate, half way between the port and the aluminium smelter.

“It started with our own house,” is how Jack explains it.

“We bought Meg’s grandparents house about 10 years ago, supposedly for holidays, and we decided we liked it so much that we would move into it,” he says.

 

[dropcap style=”color: #dc943c;”] T [/dropcap]he Portland house is a 1960s original designed by legendary Warrnambool architect “Tag” (William) Walter with the long clean lines, large windows and open fireplaces surrounded by stone that became his hallmark.

Jack and Meg couldn’t help but slowly fill the place with furniture from the era and so began their love affair with mid-century design and designers.

It wasn’t until early last year, however, that they combined their skills to open a furniture restoration business that can cater for all eras, but specialises in mid-century pieces.

“There is nothing made of timber, in my view, that can’t be fixed,” says Jack, who has spent most of his life working in and around the furnishing and upholstery industry.

“We had one lady who brought a chair in and an arm dropped off in transit, so we replaced the arm and it was impossible to tell the original from the replacement,” he says by way of example.

Meg has a background in interior design and fashion retail and uses her skills and contacts to source and select top quality, natural fabrics from around Australia to use for re-covering.

Between them, they have created a slice of Mad Men heaven, with a shed full of classic pieces that have been either found in their travels, or brought in by others to be reupholstered, re-stitched, re-stained, or whatever other painstaking method is required to bring it back to life.

 

[dropcap style=”color: #dc943c;”] T[/dropcap]heir clients, similarly, come from far and wide, and include some of Melbourne’s top architecture and design academics, but also local graziers.

“We have seen some very, very tired furniture that has been dragged out of the shearing shed or wherever and brought in here, sometimes literally in pieces,” Meg says.

“And it is not just about how much a piece might be worth, but how much people love it. If they love it, they want to see it brought back to life.”

All of Jack and Meg’s work is done by hand – they don’t use acid dips or harsh machinery to take short-cuts – and one piece can take many, many hours to complete.

“It can be very dirty and it is very time consuming, but it is also incredibly rewarding,” Meg says.

 

[dropcap style=”color: #dc943c;”] J[/dropcap]ack has handled hundreds of pieces of furniture, but admires the simplicity of the classic Australian designs – Clement Meadmore and Featherston are among his favourites.

Unfortunately to own an original, pristine Feathertson lounge suite could cost around $20,000 compared to several hundred pounds when they were first sold.

Perhaps Jack and Meg might stumble across a wad of cash hidden in the springs of a secondhand chair picked up at an auction?

“I’ve never come across anything like that so far,” Jack says with a laugh.

“The best I can offer are two rings that look like they come from a member of a bikie gang.”

[box type=”bio”] Be Seated is at 22 George St, Portland. Ph: Meg 0419 579 896. Follow them on Facebook here. [/box]