Nan's Knitted Loo Roll Cosy and Other Masterpieces: A Definitive Ranking of Britain's Mystery Craft Relatives

Somewhere in Britain right now, a man in his sixties is in his shed, building a bird table with a pitched roof, guttering and working floodlights. No birds will ever use it. It is not for birds. It has never been for birds. It is for him.

Every family has one. The relative whose creative output cannot be explained, predicted or, crucially, thrown away. At Mad Lad Designs, we consider these people the unofficial founding fathers of everything we do — so we've ranked them. Scientifically. With feelings.

1. The Decoupage Uncle

Armed with a pot of PVA and a stack of old Radio Times covers, the Decoupage Uncle has transformed every flat surface in his home into a shrine to 1997. His masterpiece: a biscuit tin (empty, obviously — the tin outlived the biscuits years ago) covered in a collage of Thora Hird's face.

He calls it 'a bit of a laugh'. It is, in fact, folk art. It will be in a museum one day and nobody will be able to prove he wasn't a genius.

2. The Nan With the Knitting Needles

Nobody knows when Nan decided that every object in the home required a tiny woolly jumper, but the evidence is overwhelming. The loo roll has a cosy. The eggs have hats. There is a knitted cover for the knitting tin itself, which is at least honest about the situation.

Her work is technically flawless and conceptually unhinged — the exact combination we salute daily. If you've ever bought a sausage dog tea towel for someone you barely know, you have Nan to thank.

3. The Shed Dad

Dad's shed project began in April as 'a bit of shelving'. It is now October. The structure has a name (The Annexe), a lick of paint in a colour called 'Heritage Moss', and a purpose that remains a closely guarded secret, possibly even from Dad.

Inside: a kettle, a radio tuned to Absolute, and a chair positioned to face nothing in particular. Is it a workshop? A pub? A cry for help? Yes.

4. The Cross-Stitch Auntie

Auntie produces samplers that say things like 'Bless This Mess' and one — one — that says something so rude we cannot repeat it in a family publication. It hangs in her downstairs loo and has been silently judging guests since 2003. She is, without question, the funniest person in the family and pretends not to know it.

5. The Woodwork Grandad Who Only Makes One Thing

Grandad can build anything. He has chosen to build only trinket boxes. Trinket boxes with dovetail joints so fine they'd make a cabinetmaker weep, built to hold trinkets nobody owns. Every birthday, another one. You will keep them all. You will never put anything in them. That is the arrangement.

Why We Keep It All

Here's the thing: you can't bin a trinket box. Not one made by Grandad's actual hands, in his actual shed, while listening to actual cricket. The emotional supply chain runs straight from his workshop to your mantelpiece, and no amount of minimalism will sever it.

These relatives taught Britain that making something pointless, beautifully, is one of the finest things a person can do. That a loo roll in a hat is funnier than a loo roll without one. That craft doesn't need a reason — it needs a PVA pot and a bit of nerve.

Every daft print, every novelty sock, every gloriously unnecessary design we dream up at Mad Lad owes a debt to the Decoupage Uncles and Shed Dads of this land. They were doing it for the bantz before 'bantz' was a word.

So this weekend, go and look at the wonky cross-stitch or the bird mansion. Tell them it's brilliant. It is, obviously. That was never in question.

And if you've got a Nan with a knitting tin, commission the jumper before it's too late. Some masterpieces don't wait.