Episode 1 Collectaholics

From art... ...to antiques,

ceramics to signs...

...taxidermy... ...to toys.

From the common... ...to the curious...

...we are a nation of collectors.

Follow me, Mel Giedroyc...

...and me, antiques expert and lifelong collector Mark Hill...

...as we go behind closed doors

to uncover Britain's secret collections...

...and reveal what they're really worth,

with surprising results.

Collecting and curating... ...selling and displaying.

For collectaholics everywhere... ...we're here to help.

'On Collectaholics,

'we'll be delving into the extraordinary collections

'that have taken over people's lives...'

I've never seen so many signs!

'..swallowing up their space and using up their income...'

What's the most expensive piece you've bought?

Sort of ?8,000 to ?10,000.

'..and pushing their relationships to the very edge.'

It's this room and that's it.

'I'll be helping our collectors deal with their collections in crisis.'

Could I possibly call it an obsession?

I don't think obsession's a bad word.

'And I'll be finding out what drives them to buy and buy and buy.'

Do you think this is what your collection is all about,

Shirley, that one original doll?

'This week, three very different collections,

'all embracing British nostalgia.'

But these look the same to me.

'The collector with over 7,000 beer cans...'

When are you going to stop?

I cannot see a time when I would stop.

'..and the wife who's had to move home for them.'

I don't know how I got persuaded into this madness!

'The man so obsessed with the past, he's taken on the lifestyle, too...'

My collection isn't really complete.

'..but still needs one elusive item.'

THEY LAUGH

'And the biggest collection we've ever seen...'

It's a whole street of shops. Unbelievable!

There's just too much of it.

'..with a price tag to match.'

That's surprised me. Wow!

'We've come to the south-east coast

'to meet 59-year-old railway enthusiast Stuart.'

Oh, look at this!

'But he's no ordinary enthusiast.'

'Stuart is so crazy about the railways,

'his collection hasn't just taken over his house,

'he's actually built a life-size railway station from the 1950s...

'in his back garden.'

People think I'm a bit eccentric, I think.

But I don't care really. It really pleases me.

'But if more than 300 station signs wasn't enough...

'there's also an underground station in the shed,

'with more than 200 tube signs,

'dating all the way back to the Victorian era.'

'And there's no escape in the house either.'

'But the collection is now so big,

'it's threatening to ruin his life's work.'

The collection has reached crisis point

because there's just too much of it.

It really does get frustrating.

'So we've come to help get it back on track.'

Hi, Stuart. Hello.

Hello, I'm Mel. Hello, Mel. This is Mark.

'I'm dying to see what awaits us in the garden.'

Oh, my goodness, I nearly fell over! Oh, dear.

That is brilliant. There we go then!

I didn't expect it to reach the scale it is now.

You know, the first time we moved into our house,

it sort of filled it up

and it's just escalated from there.

Stuart, I am loving this.

This is a real, life-sized platform.

Oh, hello. Hello.

Hi there. Hi, Dawn.

Wow! I'm slightly...

spellbound, I think is the word. Yes.

I've got a big grin plastered on my face.

I'm loving this!

'Stuart's love affair with the railways

'began when he was a young boy in the early '60s.

'It was the time of the Government's Beeching report,

'which saw thousands of lines closed down.

'With the dismantling of hundreds of stations,

'countless old railway signs and objects were liberated.'

The first time I got interested in it

was when my parents took me to the Bluebell Railway

when I was probably about nine.

I got my first enamel sign from the back of the school.

So off I went to the headmaster, said, "I've found this sign."

He looked at me as if I was nuts and said, "Well, take it home then."

'That one sign led to more than 1,000.'

'Not to mention the 55 signalling instruments...'

'...17 lanterns...'

'...and ticket booth paraphernalia.'

Powder room this ain't!

Oh, my gosh. I've never seen...

so many signs!

'This is quite overwhelming.'

Oh! Oh, look, look, look! Oh, my goodness.

We're off to Strawberry Hill. That...!

'With so much stuff, I feel like a kid in a playground.'

Hounslow.

I bought that one straight off the railway for ?10.

Sorry, for ?10? Oh, goodness. For ?10, yeah.

All the tickets for all the stations.

'From a young age, Stuart's passion fuelled his every waking moment.

'So much so, aged 18 he got a job on the railways

'and worked for 21 years as a signalman.'

Stuart, this is an incredible collection.

And this is all original, isn't it? Oh, it is, yes.

It's all totally original.

Yeah, some of this stuff, I used to work with!

'When the railways were nationalised in 1948,

'the country was split into six different regions.

'Each was given its own colour code,

'from pale blue for Scotland to brown for the West.

'The colour of the enamelled metal station signs

'indicated what part of the country you were in.

'And the wonderful bright green of many of Stuart's signs

'represent the Southern Region,

'where he's lived all his life.'

I thought I'd stop when I was 50.

But now I'm 59, I'm still buying bits.

If people like him didn't save these things

then they'd just be thrown away, you'd never see them again.

And they wouldn't be there for, you know, generations to enjoy.

'But where once this was a beautifully crafted display

'in authentic setting...'

Oh, hello.

There is a lot of signage in here.

'..Stuart's 45 year compulsion has now left this surreal world

'under threat from increasing piles of signs.'

Some of the things I've had so long,

if I got rid of them it would be like cutting my arm off, really,

cos they're like old friends.

He'll say, "Oh, I've just bought this," or, "Got that."

And I think, "Oh, no, not more!"

Because, you know, we haven't got the room!

"Chucked in" is it, really.

You've done such a great job of displaying things... That's right.

And fitting them on the wall.

Here, it's more of a heap.

To collect on this scale,

what is it that made you do that, do you think?

I think it was just a passion for it, really.

You just start off with one small item and it just sort of...

You come across something else

and then you come across something else,

and that's how it goes. Are you worried about space, though?

It's disappointing when you can't put something up

where it can be appreciated.

But you've got too much of it... I have. ..possibly!

'But Stuart's collection

'doesn't just stop with a 1950s booking office.'

It goes on!

We're now underground.

There's actually a real tube station down here.

This is just amazing!

'Stuart has built everything himself.

'The smallest of details are thought of

'to bring his displays to life,

'from the ticket booth to the curved walls.'

The attention to detail is incredible.

It's like set design, really.

Yeah, I like to see everything in its proper location.

'Stuart's creation is quite breathtaking

'but the stacks of signs everywhere are ruining all his hard work.

'And nowhere is that more evident than the station buffet.'

So...

this is where you're supposed to go sit down,

have a nice relaxing cup of tea, pork pie...

except... It's full up.

'This is such a shame.

'I can see the potential for this collection,

'but it's clear where it's going wrong.'

'And just when I thought my senses couldn't take any more,

'eagle-eyed Mark spotted

'something else at the end of the garden.'

Now, Hawk-eye Hill...

..what do you make of that?

That is a whole other collection, Stuart.

It is. And do you know what?

I see quite a lot of money in there, as well.

Is this petrol stationiana?

Petroliana. Petroliana. Is that what it's called? Stuart,

are you hiding any other collections that we need to know about?

China dogiana?

Oh, you've got all sorts of other things to see. Crochetiana?

It goes on and on and on! Unbelievable.

'If two collections weren't enough,

'there's yet another one upstairs in the house.'

It's a whole street of shops, basically.

'His three collections have got so out of hand

'it's hard to grasp exactly what Stuart's passion is.'

Mark, have you ever seen anything like this?

I have to say, I haven't.

I mean, every single inch...

is filled with something, isn't it?

Unbelievable.

But I've got to ask you, what's it all for?

Why do you do this?

It's stuff I remember as a child

and it just seemed like everyone was throwing it away.

And I think it all goes back to the railway signs

and then I found the enamel advertising signs.

Then I had to have the packet

that goes with the enamel advertising sign, and so on.

And that's how it built up and built up.

'That compulsion to keep on buying

'has left Stuart with a buffet full of junk

'and a waiting room that's just a storage facility.

'Something's got to give.'

It's quite a few different collections.

I mean, for me it seems that there's one

that's really strongly personal to you, isn't there?

Yes. That's the railwayana. That's the railwayana.

I think followed closely by this.

Shops, shoppiana? So petroliana is somewhere further down?

Yes, it's further down the scale. If somebody said to me,

"Right, I want you to sell all the railway signs,"

I'd say, "Oh, I don't think so." No. I can't see it.

"Over my dead body" type thing. That's right!

But the petroliana is something we could consider?

Yes, some of it, yes.

'It's a drastic solution

'but I think Stuart needs to streamline the collections

'and get rid of one entirely so the others can thrive.'

'He's no stranger to buying

'but will Stuart be willing to sell anything?'

Our next stop in Somerset and an even more unusual collection.

Unusual? It's downright strange.

Hello. Hi, are you Nick? Nice to meet you, yes.

Hi, I'm Mel. Hello. Hello, I'm Mark, nice to meet you. Come on in.

'This large Victorian, five-bedroom property

'hides a collection most people would class as rubbish,

'quite literally.'

It's 37 years since I started collecting.

I've got to love beer cans.

Everyday, I do something that's beer can related.

If I walk into a supermarket and I see a new can,

I still get that slight buzz and a sense of excitement.

54-year-old assistant marketing manager Nick

has dedicated his life

to hunting down every British beer can ever made.

And he now owns 7,185.

Nick is obsessed about beer cans, without a doubt.

I think he must spend many hours every day thinking of beer cans.

I do dream about beer cans on a regular basis.

Hi, Deborah. Hello.

'Wife Deborah has tolerated Nick's passion for 38 years,

'but has laid down one strict ground rule.'

How much of the house is taken up with...?

One-bedroom only has the beer cans in.

And that is the one room that the beer cans are staying in.

OK. They're not allowed out in the hall! No way!

And is this the biggest bedroom in the house, basically?

Yeah, part of the deal when we moved to the house

was that the beer cans could have the biggest bedroom

but that was their only room.

So you moved here pretty much specifically

to house the collection? We did.

Can we go to the beer can bedroom? Yeah, by all means.

The only thing is, it's quite a tight squeeze

so if you wouldn't mind taking your coats off,

just in case you knock them off the shelves?

After you. Oh, good Lord.

Oh, good Lord!

I'm absolutely gobsmacked.

They're everywhere. It's like wall...

It's like wallpaper, isn't it?

Very good wallpaper, I hope.

But Nick, a lot of these look the same to me.

Is each one different? No, no, they're all different.

I think any collector, you have to have an eye for detail.

One year might say, you know, 59p a can

and then the next year, with inflation, it goes up to 65p.

To me, those are two different cans.

If I get a new Heineken can, obviously it has to go in there.

So that means moving all of these round

and finding a home.

So I can spend an hour in here just shunting the cans around,

just to put in you can on the shelf.

Are these cans actually full of beer?

No, they're all empty. Every single one is empty? Yeah.

With all my cans, I open them at the bottom,

to give the impression of being full.

So the idea is you pierce it, pour it into a glass, wash it out

and then you find the right place on the shelf for it.

Nick's extremely particular about how he stores his cans,

with humidity levels controlled

and the curtains remaining shut at all times to avoid light damage.

They go on and on, Nick, don't they? They do.

Un-be-lievable.

There are over 7,185 different cans. Hello!

7,000...? Yeah, 185.

But with more than 10,000 British beer cans produced,

and new ones hitting the supermarkets every week,

Nick's collection is only going to grow and grow

and that's a big problem.

I notice there is a bit of overspill, Nick.

I've just spotted there's boxes over there. Oh, gosh.

Do those contain more cans? Yes, unfortunately I've...

As you can see, the room's pretty much full.

Every time I get a new one, it either goes on the shelf

and one from the shelf goes in the box... That must be torture.

It is a bit, yeah. Yeah, yeah.

Cos I know for a fact there's some really nice cans in there.

Understandably, Deborah is adamant

Nick's cans don't invade the rest of the house.

Just having to keep the curtains shut

would be enough to drive anyone mad.

I must be the most long-suffering wife of all time

to put up with that beer can collection.

That means Nick's cans now have nowhere to go

but into boxes.

As far as Deborah's concerned, it's out of sight out of mind.

She rarely comes into the room.

I wouldn't say she's necessarily supportive

but she's sort of begrudgingly got used to it.

Well, Deborah's had 38 years to get used to it,

as Nick was already a collector before they met.

Do you still have the very first one?

Yeah, it was this half pint Heineken can,

13th of July 1975.

When I met my wife Deborah, I was 16 years old

and I'd already been collecting for a few months.

She invited me to a house party at her house.

He went around with a carrier bag and was putting cans in them!

So I just thought he was a bit weird!

On the Monday, I gave her the bag back

and that was sort of the...you know,

the start of a long and happy romance.

It seems to me to keep that romance on track,

this collection needs to downsize.

But that's not an option for Nick.

I can see why you'd have a few,

but it's that kind of... why you have to have them all?

It's just wanting more and more and more

and trying to get every one of a particular brand

or every one that's ever existed.

It's the hunt, yes. The thrill of the chase.

There are some with pictures of girls on!

I notice those are on the top shelf, Nick!

Are they a bit naughty, those ones with the girls?

Obviously the older ones were slightly more tame

and then late '80s/'90s,

they get slightly more risque as they go round. Oh!

'Every can in here is different

'and the collection spans the entire history

'of beer can production,

'from rare commemoratives ones to modern supermarket own brands.'

This one is the first ever British beer can,

dating back to December 1935.

'Beer cans first came on the market in the US,

'two years after the end of prohibition in 1933.

'Tinned foods had been around since the beginning of the 19th century

'but canning beer was only possible

'thanks to developments in the interior lining.

'Either a waxy or plastic coating was added

'to help stop the flavour being ruined

'by a chemical reaction with the metal.'

Can I pick it up? Yeah. Oh, it's full. It is still full, yes.

And the Felinfoel Brewery,

they were the first outside the US to produce beer in cans.

That's correct.

'Initially, these cone tops didn't take off

'as they resembled the shape of traditional metal polish -

'not something you'd want to mistake

'at the end of a heavy drinking session!'

This is an extremely scarce and sought-after thing.

I don't know what you paid for it

but I'm going to guess sort of in excess of ?800 or so?

It was slightly more than that, unfortunately.

More than ?800? More than ?800, yeah.

A lot more or...? Erm, 50% more.

Good Lord.

It's the first one of its kind.

The advantage of the can was it could be discarded after use,

unlike its predecessor, the bottle,

in which a deposit was paid to the shop

and refunded on return of the empties.

'There's something strangely appealing about this room.

'It feels like an art installation

'but it's on a scale that's hard to comprehend.'

When are you going to stop?

I cannot see a time when I would stop.

The problem now is there's so many of them.

He spends every night virtually, when we're at home,

he will do something with the beer cans.

She dislikes the fact

that I do devote quite a lot of time to the collection.

Could I possibly call it an obsession?

Do you think you are obsessed? I'm happy with the word obsession.

I don't think obsession is a bad word.

But this is Nick's passion, not Deborah's

and she's had to sacrifice a lot.

I liked our last house.

It was perfect for a small family.

But there we are. So we moved here.

You essentially moved here for the collection. Oh, definitely.

There was no other reason. We wouldn't have moved otherwise.

I would be unhappy to stay here for a long time.

It is a big house so, surely, when we retire,

he will have to look at what he wants to do with the beer cans.

I'm like an ostrich, I'm sticking my head in the sand

and sort of trying not to think about too long-term...

about what's going to happen on that dreadful day

when she says, "Right, you know, this is getting ridiculous,

"there's two of us living in a five-bedroom house

"and, you know, we've got to move on."

Well, there's two of you and 7,500 of something else.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Rapidly expanding.

I guess it's like that Prince Charles thing,

where there's 7,187 of us in this marriage.

So how's it going to work out when you retire, then? No idea.

I don't know what he's going to do.

And I don't think he knows what he's going to do either.

It would really break my heart to, obviously,

have to dispose of a large chunk of the collection.

Both Nick and Deborah seem resigned to the fact

that there is no solution.

Maybe we can help find a way to get them out of this stalemate.

BELL TOLLS

Our next collection isn't just ruling the home,

it's become the home.

I would say my collection started as a hobby.

I would say now it's... it's a lifestyle choice.

33-year-old Ben works as an airline steward

but, when his feet are back on the ground,

he spends his time taking his cottage back to another era.

Ben's turned his home into a shrine to the 1930s and 1940s.

# Don't sit under the apple tree... #

My dream is for people to walk in and not to be able to tell

the difference between my house and a living museum.

This is how they used to live.

Ben's built up his time capsule of the past on a shoestring budget.

And he's saved up for his most extravagant purchase to date -

a coal-fired cooking range typical of an un-modernised wartime home.

But, with funds depleted,

he can't afford to have this finishing touch to his kitchen put in

and his '40s dream home is frustratingly incomplete.

I want to put the Victorian range in.

Little cottages like mine always had a Victorian stove.

And they always used to sit by the fire, like my Nan in the old days.

I'm turning into an old granny! HE LAUGHS

Maybe we're just the couple of '40s throwbacks

to help Ben continue living in the past.

Well, I must say, Mark, you're every inch the Humphrey Bogart.

HE LAUGHS Well, here's looking at you, kid.

Hello there! Hello, Ben.

Oh, look! Oh, my goodness, we're actually matching.

Nice to meet you. Aren't we just?

Oh, look!

That's amazing. I mean, even the light switches, everything.

Literally... And look at this beautiful suite.

I feel quite, sort of, well-behaved, quite demure. Yes. Absolutely.

It's lovely. I mean, you're in the front parlour.

I mean, this was just used for Sundays and Christmas, really.

It's taken Ben four years to decorate every room in his home

and he's meticulous when it comes to detail.

3D wallpaper! Yes, the Art Deco style.

Of course, the height of fashion in the late '30s. Absolutely.

There shouldn't be anything out of character,

down to the cloth-covered wiring of the '30s style.

Wow. And the Bakelite light switches.

I was about to say, that's Bakelite. That's the material of 1,000 uses.

# Pardon me boy

# Is that the Chattanooga Choo Choo? #

Ben started collecting at the tender age of 14,

turning his garden shed into a 1940s-style living room

and hasn't stopped since.

Everything here looks the part

but I want to know just how authentic Ben's collection is.

Can I delve inside your cupboards? Oh, absolutely.

Thank you very much. He always does that. Check his pockets.

Very of its day. Of course, the name... Yes.

BOTH: ..Clarice Cliff.

I thought it was a toast rack!

'No, Mel, this is pure ornament.

'Clarice Cliff was one of the most prolific ceramics designers

'of the early 20th Century.'

When I think of the '40s, I think of literally, you know,

sort of reconstituted egg and... No!

This, of course, came before -

the excitement of the Art Deco age of the '20s and '30s.

Bright colours, jazz, speed, cocktails.

That's what it was all about.

'The marks on these pieces indicate they're reproductions.'

The originals are incredibly scarce,

would cost many thousands of pounds if found.

'In fact, in 2003, an original Clarice Cliff charger

'sold at auction for a staggering ?40,000.

'So it's understandable that his Clarice Cliff ceramics,

'like a large portion of his collection,

'are affordable reproductions

'intended to give the feel of the period.'

I would love originals but they just give a flavour of the era

and just kind of pick up on the sort of Art Deco theme.

'But there's one room for Ben

'that needs to have a genuine '40s flavour.'

Well, welcome to the 1940s kitchen.

Or back living room as they used to call them in those days.

Look at this!

It's a blue one because it was made with plain chocolate

cos no milk was available cos of the rationing, so...

Oh, of course. ..blue to distinguish the different flavour. How amazing.

Where'd you get all these things from?

Oh, lots of antique-y kind of fairs and stuff and, yeah... Right.

Well, they're much more affordable.

You can find some really good lookers for literally a couple of pounds.

Yeah, they are not too bad actually. Oh, really?

I mean, some of them get a bit more pricey.

I did pay ?20 for my dried, powdered milk.

But the condition of the label on that is brilliant.

'For Ben, there's one kitchen essential

'that's just not authentic enough.'

Now, I'm looking at your cooker. Yes. Your cooker, Ben.

This is where we get let down a little bit.

You're hiding, standing in front of it, ashamed of it almost.

I am afraid so.

I have just bought a range but, unfortunately,

I haven't got enough money to put it in

because the chimney needs doing and the flue.

So this is going to go and I shall be sitting

in front of the fire in the nice old Windsor armchair.

What's a Windsor armchair when it's at home?

A very comfortable wooden chair.

Yeah, bit like this, with the arms. Yeah, with cushions, all cosy.

'Ben's not going to get cosy any time soon

'because the range is currently out in the cold, in his back scullery.'

Oh, look! And here is the range. How does it run? What do you put inside?

Is it wood or coal...? Wood or coal, yes.. Oh, both.

You can either put them in through the hob at the top there

or use the little door at the side.

'Ben spent ?1,000 on a reproduction of a Victorian-era range.

'A world away from the wipe-clean mod cons of today,

'to look after cookers like these

'the house-proud '40s family would have to black the lead,

'a polishing process that took hours of elbow grease.'

Come on, gang. Come on.

'Ben's blown his budget on buying this cooker

'and now can't afford to have it installed.

'And that's where we can help.'

'It's going to be difficult to raise enough money

'without ruining the fantastic look Ben's already created.

'The good news is the past few years

'have seen a seismic rise of the vintage market.

'And it's characterised by a new breed of collector

'who, just like Ben, collect as part of their look and lifestyle,

'rather than build up vast collections

'confined to cabinets or shelves.

'The challenge for us is to find the pieces Ben can live without

'but will sell for the funds he desperately needs.'

A lot of the pieces we're looking at,

and you'll well know because you bought them,

won't have enormous value. Yes.

So I think, for me, it's quantity. We need quite a lot of it. Exactly.

There's something very relaxing about this house, isn't there?

It's decluttered. Suddenly, the computer's gone,

the television's gone, the telephone doesn't ring that often.

All of these things that a lot of clutter up our lives

and clutter up our brains... Yeah.

..they're all gone and it's placid and gentle.

'Don't speak too soon, Mark.

'Ben's still a 21st-century boy deep down.'

Ooh, you sneaky devil! Oh, my goodness me.

That's hilarious!

Actually, it's jarring, put it away! I know.

It's a strange thing, I've got quite used to all of this. I know.

Ben's only willing to sell unwanted smaller items

that he's picked up for pennies.

If I'm going to help him

pull up his Windsor chair to a fully fitted cooking range,

I'll have to work pretty hard getting a good price for this lot.

Ben, Nick and Stuart's collections all have a common theme.

They celebrate British nostalgia and feed into our memories

and connections with the past. They might have started out

as practical items to be disposed of after use,

but the food packaging and beer cans

tell us so much about our heritage.

'I've come to the Museum Of Brands to meet director Robert Opie

'to find out how branding has changed

'and what it says about how we used to live.'

So, Robert, this is the Victorian packaging.

Yes, this is like the springboard

of our consumer revolution which is now happening.

This is the kind of fulfilment of a new wave of brands

and promotion material.

'It was in the Victorian era that how we shopped began to change.

'Where once you would have ordered your goods loose and by weight,

'manufacturers began wrapping their products

'and dictating the quantities,

and that packaging could sell the brand.'

These new brands were very kind of personalised.

So the families you see are the very gentrified families,

a bit upmarket because these things were...relatively expensive.

A 2lbs jam pot.

This kind of a product was being sold mainly to the middle classes

because the well-to-do could afford servants

to make their jams and that was much better,

so this type of product was a bit frowned upon.

As the new, vibrant, colourful packs were coming in,

they really attract your attention.

Now, suddenly, Robert, these look less colourful.

We're in that moment of the '40s -

you know, there's a world war going on,

everybody has to be rationed.

They actually halve the size of the label to save on paper.

So the whole effect is very austere.

I've seen there the Heinz vegetable soup.

Sold originally at Fortnum Mason's in 1887,

and the keystone design - that's what is known as -

was part of that emblem then.

And it's familiar, so you feel comfortable with it.

You can feel the warmth coming out.

Oh, let's crack it open!

'But it was in the 1950s that things really started to change,

'with the introduction of the supermarket.'

Wow. Suddenly...

big!

Bright!

Exciting! Powerful!

The self-service store had arrived.

New brands, something like Tide, arrived in 1950,

and they were shouting from the shelves, saying,

"Come over here, I'm here!"

'This packaging just says pure pop art to me,

'with the Lichtenstein-style dots,

'colours and slanted, comic book lettering.'

Were artists actually involved? Very much so.

You go back over the last 100, 200 years

and there have been a wealth, an army of these commercial artists.

Particularly when you look at them in quantity -

a little bit like the Andy Warhol kind of theme -

they have a real power.

'By the '60s, iconic and recognisable characters

'were becoming a more prominent way of cementing the brand

'in the public's eye.'

That could be on our breakfast table in 2013, couldn't it?

Yes. It hasn't changed.

A lot of people actually still think it is

because when we engage with these brands,

that image becomes part of us.

It's more than assault on the eyes,

isn't it, the 60s packaging?

It makes it look a bit...

..tackier, somehow?

Less arty and more...commercial, I suppose.

They're starting to use actual photographs, aren't they,

with the Kipling cakes here?

This, for me, is a very sad moment,

when the photographer takes over from the artist. Yeah.

And I think that's very sad,

and what I celebrate is that amazing artwork.

'It's amazing that we think of so much of this stuff as rubbish.

'It chronicles home life in the 20th Century

'and how branding and packaging helped change the way we shop.'

'And, stepping into the '70s, I'm taken right back to my childhood.'

Oh, Tooty Minties! I remember those.

They were the slightly bleaker end of the Tooty Frooty.

Oh, the Ready Brek! With the glow all round them.

This is like a sort of comfort...

It's my comfort zone.

I love this cabinet, Robert.

OK, I think we've lost Mel.

In Somerset, Nick's the can man who can't.

He can't display any more cans because he's run out of room.

And, having moved home just for the collection,

wife Deborah is no happier.

I don't know how I got persuaded into this madness.

But there we are. He loves his beer cans.

If Nick was to downsize the beer can collection,

he could free up space and create spare money.

But how do you put a value on things

that many people would consider plain old rubbish?

'Nick's archive certainly charts the changing face of beer cans,

'with 70% of the estimated 10,000 beer cans

'ever produced in Britain.'

'And he's not a snob, either.

'Whilst some cans don't have monetary value,

'they do capture a moment in time.

'The high prices lie in Nick's early cone-tops.

'Not just because they're older

'but also because they were a shorter-lived format.

'And their high values reflect their rarity.

'After all, the vast majority were squashed long ago.'

'We'll be finding out later what the entire collection is worth.

'But, for now, I'm giving nothing away.'

'Downsizing isn't the only answer.

'We've wrought Nick and Deborah to Shrewsbury

'to see a different way of housing the collection.'

'But it's not what's inside the house that's important,

'it's what's outside, in the garden.'

Come on in.

Wow.

Wow. This is something completely different, isn't it?

Yeah, one way of using your collection.

Yeah. Not enough cans for my liking. Oh, I'm sorry, Nick.

Hello. Now, Nick and Deborah, this is John and Cheryl.

'This is the brainchild of collector John.

'He started collecting beer bottles two and a half years ago

'and has more than 600.'

Cheryl, you're quite adamant

that you don't want the beer bottle collection in your house. No.

John's theory is what goes on in the shed is his business

and what goes on in the house is up to me.

And the good thing is that if I'm down here, she knows where I am.

Yeah. If I've had a couple of beers, I don't need a taxi home.

THEY LAUGH

And I'm your lady if he needs a taxi! Exactly.

So, Nick and Deborah, how would it float your boat -

a smaller house, bigger space out the back,

and a purpose-built chic chalet/shed?

A chic chalet/shed?

I do like the idea of a purpose-built construction. Yes.

'This could be the perfect solution.

'If Deborah doesn't want it in the house, put it in the garden.'

How big a space do you think you'd need, Nick, compared to this,

to house your beer cans?

If this is 600-plus bottles and I've got 7,000 cans, ten times this size.

That's a large shed! It's a big shed.

'Oh, Nick. Time to divide and conquer.'

I think we were both a bit worried about coming here.

Are you convinced now that you've seen it?

I think he still might have to downsize the collection

because you would have to have a very large bunker

to put them all in!

Unfortunately, cans are much more fragile than bottles.

They are much more susceptible to the elements.

For example, they rust.

There's different ways we can look at it.

Yeah, but you have to choose one soon, Nick.

You've got to do something, haven't you?

Can you see Nick being willing to make this kind of compromise?

If he knew it was something he could have more purpose-built,

so you don't have to have the five-bedroom house

to house your collection. Exactly.

This is good. It's given me ideas and obviously look to different...

you know, things that can be done.

Does it give you hope?

Yes, I think it probably does give me a bit of hope.

I'm quite excited for you. Yeah.

'That's the first time I've heard either of them

'sound like they can find common ground.'

'I wonder if the valuation will stir things up a bit?'

Over 45 years of collecting, Stuart has created

a mad and magical world in his back garden.

But with three enormous and competing collections,

his carefully and beautifully created settings are under threat

from ever-increasing piles of signs and memorabilia.

To help him work out what to do,

I want to delve deeper into his first love, the railwayana.

A lot of the places, they mean something to me.

I've either worked there or had some connection.

It's just a real passion.

Known as totems, Stuart's enamel station signs are hugely popular.

Like Ben's 1940s collection,

they can appeal to a younger, metropolitan crowd

looking for something unique for their homes.

Amongst all these items,

there's heritage, history and financial value.

If you look at any of the old railway films from the '50s,

it's just so...a different era.

Items like these signal box instruments are a niche market,

likely to appeal only to specialist collectors

looking for heritage pieces.

But their age and rarity push up their value.

'Stuart's amassed so much,

'he's had to find inventive ways to display it all.

'It's even in the bathroom.'

It's a shame it's not Waterloo. Well, yes. It would be apt, yes.

But you did get Shepherd's Bush in, which is good. Yeah.

There's a lot of fun that's gone into this, though, isn't there?

Yes, there is.

Sometimes, it gets a bit on top of me,

sometimes I think, "Oh, no, not more!" But it's...

Once it's up, it... You know, you can appreciate it.

'Dawn's hit the nail on the head.

'This collection is incredible but it needs more room to expand.'

So do you feel a bit sad when you see certain rooms,

where the collection is, where it's just all in piles? Yes, I do. Yes.

It's such a shame he hasn't got the wall space

to, you know, put them all up. Yeah. You know, enjoy them all.

But it's just not possible.

'Not least because I keep finding extraordinary things hidden away

'which really should be on display with the main collection.'

This is something I'm extremely excited about.

Oh, hello, is it cutlery? Oh, my Bexhill poster.

I have never seen one in the paper, so to speak.

And it's only been framed for about four months,

so it's been in the cupboard since 1974.

Just, what, folded up? Really? Yeah.

How much did you pay for it, then?

I bought 14 posters for a pound each.

If you were to offer it at auction,

I think you would get somewhere around ?1,500, I suppose.

Ooh, that'd be nice, yes.

'Items like this shouldn't be buried in the back annexe.'

It doesn't look like the south coast of England, does it?

It looks unbelievably glamorous. Like the Mediterranean.

Don't you want to go there? I want to be there.

That is part of the magic of marketing.

Great. Take me back there. Straight away, please.

'Sorry, Mel, it's a first-class ticket for one, I'm afraid.

'Our railways are amazing and tell the story of a changing society.'

By the dawn of the 20th Century, many more of us

were able to travel the length and breadth of the country at speed.

'The late 1920s brought glamour to the railways.

'Almost entirely run by four big companies,

'competition was fierce

'and advertisers wanted to entice high society on to the trains.'

'This was the golden age of steam and it was largely

'the brightly-coloured,

'iconic poster designs

'produced during this period

'that enticed us to jump on board.'

TRAIN WHISTLE SOUNDS

The railway companies sold their services with flair,

fashion and fabulous colour.

They employed great artists and emerging new talent

to channel popular artistic movements of the day,

such as Art Deco and avant-garde modernism.

Advertising luxurious destinations,

they conjured up a glamorous image of railway travel

and had literally one or two seconds to plant that seed

and make you think, "I want to go there."

Tom Purvis designed

this fantastic poster advertising Bridlington in 1932.

And who couldn't resist?

Glorious saturated colours, totally unrealistic

but incredibly sensational.

But where's the steam train?

The grimy engine itself isn't here,

and in fact that's part of the message -

the railways will allow you to escape from the dirty,

grinding daily life of city work

to this fantastic paradise in the sun.

Posters like this today are incredibly popular

and something like this could fetch around ?2,000 at auction.

A sensational piece.

The war years stifled creativity somewhat.

Freight services boomed as holidays took a back seat

to the transport of fuel, weapons, soldiers and food.

In 1948,

the rail service was nationalised

and the big four merged to become British Railways.

'Once again, advertising promoted the delights of holidays at home,

'emphasising a return to pre-war standards.'

Posters of the 1950s and '60s offered the same lifestyle,

but one that was an alternative to the increasing

numbers of package holidays and foreign holidays

that were available at the time, thanks of course to the jet age.

Just look at this 1952 poster designed by Harry Riley.

It's just like the French Riviera, but here, in Britain.

And this fantastically jaunty poster from 1956, designed by the varied

and talented Tom Eckersley, is so very typical of its period.

The 1960s saw the railways refocused and reorganised.

Hundreds of stations and lines were closed.

Diesel and electric trains replaced steam.

And the changing railways, and indeed changing society,

was reflected in the poster design of the day.

Now it was all about work, speed and efficiency.

The railways had to entice customers away from their cars

as the preferred form of transport.

These were factual posters that gave information,

in stark contrast to their rather fictional predecessors.

But it's those striking images

produced all those years ago

that remain immensely popular.

In 2011, an incredibly rare poster,

The Night Scotsman by Russian-born artist Alexandre Alexeieff,

fetched nearly ?35,000 at Christie's.

These historic posters show us a snapshot of Britain

when a railway system opened up

the country to everyone.

With rose-tinted spectacles,

they take us back to a time

when railway travel was glamorous and Britain was our playground.

They were pioneers in the art of marketing

and what they were selling was Great Britain.

Stuart's sold me on the idea of railwayana.

What he's created is truly exceptional.

The great news is, with a little nudge from us,

he's taking action to sort out his buffet.

I started it years ago

and before I actually got in there it's full of clutter again.

So it's full steam ahead as he and Dawn get to work.

I really need to change the floor levels and make it slightly bigger.

Stuart's funded the renovations

by reluctantly selling one or two items.

If you get friends come down, you can take 'em out to the buffet

for a cup of tea and a curly sandwich.

It's progress, but not nearly enough.

The waiting room is still a storage dump and there are piles of signs

stacked up in the underground and garage that should be on display.

For me, the solution is to sell the petroliana collection.

But that won't come easy to the man who can't stop buying.

So in a bid to convince Stuart

I've called in expert Toby Wilson from Bonhams

to help me value this surplus collection.

I've seen similar collections to this in size

but never lived in by a private collector.

He's got some beautiful stuff in here.

And the market's still quite strong for automobilia, isn't it?

The market's very strong for cars, so veteran, vintage cars still

very strong, automobilia's caught on in the flow of that.

What's caught your eye? Well, erm, I really like that.

There's a lot of money in the racing world.

And that means there's a lot of money in a sign

that depicts a horse and jockey.

I think that that sign should be worth

somewhere between about ?1,500 and ?2,000.

Good heavens above. Yeah.

'Toby's spotted plenty of signs that have cross-market appeal.'

The rarity of this is the fact that

it says "motor cycle specialist" on it.

'And inherently that brings more buyers and higher prices.'

?500 to ?700.

Good heavens above. Yep.

'Just like everything else in Stuart's home,

'the petroliana collection is simply massive

'and overflows into another garage.'

The globes are quite stunning.

There's an amazing collection of seven post-war Shell globes

and the Shellmex there is probably worth about 120.

But the piece de resistance in that collection is the Super Shell

is a very rare globe,

Shell Economy upwards of ?300, ?400.

With more than 30 oil cans...

..43 globes,

and 240 signs, there's money to be made.

And, if it all goes, plenty of room for the railwayana to expand.

But will a valuation convince Stuart to sell?

And will I get that pork pie in the buffet?

We're on a mission to help 1940s collector Ben raise the money

he needs to plumb in that Victorian stove.

And he's going to need Mark's best bartering skills.

'Quite rightly, Ben couldn't bear to part with his most precious items.

'Which leaves me with the hard task of trying to raise money

'with items Ben thinks aren't worth very much.'

A lot of collecting is driven by nostalgia.

I think it would be very, very hard

to feel nostalgic about this gas mask.

'But in my view there's one star item.'

It's this that I'm most excited about.

This is a Dansette, and this would have been the dream object,

the must-have, for any teenager in the 1950s and '60s.

'This was the birth of rock'n'roll and the birth of the teenager,

'and it was even portable.

'Yesteryear's version of an MP3 player, perhaps.'

And condition is absolutely vital.

This one has a little bit of fading on the top here

and what I like to think about that is it's a sort of rough square shape,

so I can imagine a pile of records piled on top,

which just really sums up that era for me.

Erm, I think we'll do very well with this

and I'm certainly going to go for ?100.

If we get any more than that I'll be really very happy indeed.

'While Mark's working hard to sell Ben's wares...'

Now, who would like some tea? Vera, do you want some tea? Please. Yeah.

'..I'm doing something much more civilised.'

And I think we're pouring this out of an original '40s pot. Indeed.

'Local resident 95-year-old Vera has popped by for a cuppa

'and to share some memories.'

Do you remember Liquid Stocking?

No... Ooh, you should put the line up the back of the legs! Yeah! Yeah!

'Vera's lived in the area her whole life

'and grew up in a house just like Ben's.'

Looking around, would you say for definite that Ben has got it right?

Do you feel like you're stepping back in time? Yes, definitely.

Definitely. Do you? Absolutely. What's he got wrong?

Well, those taps are bit modern. They're going!

And did you have the range? Yeah.

Yeah. Cos Ben's going to get... Not as posh as that.

No, that's too posh, innit, Vera? The old ones come in black lead.

I'm slightly obsessed, Vera,

with this whole idea of the black lead on the cooker.

What did you have to do exactly? Well, they called it a Zebra.

You had two brushes, one to put the polish on

and then one to shine it.

And then you used a cloth and you could see your face in it.

My mum used to do that every morning.

Every morning? Every morning.

Oh, every morning, gosh. Every morning, it was brilliant.

So, Ben, when you get your top-of-the-range range in...

I'm going to be busy! ..you're going to have to do black lead every day.

Well, yes, I thought maybe it was once a month, but Vera was there, so...

Yeah, every morning. Oh, my goodness. Every day! Yes.

'I've targeted east London to try and get Ben the best prices.

'It has a thriving young urban community that loves vintage.'

Lovely to meet you. Thank you very much.

So I hear you run theatre productions using original props. Yes, we do.

They'll talk into it like that so you get the nice echo effect,

or they're stuck in a cave... that could work.

This I love, this I love. Oh, yeah, for our blowpipe!

I'm seeing these in a whole new light now.

'The boys got a good deal

'and we're a step closer to getting that stove plumbed in.'

Thank you very much indeed.

It does sound, I have to say, like the 1940s was quite hard work.

It was, very hard. Would you go back to those times, Vera? No way!

Really? No way! So what you think of Ben here,

who's so desperate to go back to the '40s?

Do you think he's barking up the wrong tree, Vera?

Do you know what, I've got a lovely flat, gorgeous. All the mod cons.

I'll be honest, I'd rather have my flat than this.

THEY LAUGH

What you think, Ben? I'm going to cry!

Vera might be feeling nostalgic, but I think I've found

a vintage-loving local who's going to be bowled over by Ben's star item.

This is surely a must-have. There we go. An original 1960s Dansette.

That's beautiful. That's in really good condition.

This is the Dansette, I mean, this is a landmark,

iconic object from the 1950s and '60s.

And look at that inside,

the colour is as fresh as the day it was bought. It's amazing.

That's beautiful. You're clearly in love with it.

Have we got a deal? Yes!

'Deal done. All that remains is to break the news to Ben.'

Good afternoon. Hello, Mark. Good to see you again. And you.

What sum of money would make you happy?

I think anything up to ?100 would be fantastic.

I want to buy one of those fireside chairs I was talking about,

so to put the new range in would be fantastic.

I managed to get ?431.

Four... How much?!

Wow, my goodness! That would, er, buy more than a chair.

That would pay to put the range in, I reckon. My God!

Well, the little gem amongst all the items you gave me was the Dansette.

They're a really very collectable item,

and we managed to find somebody who paid ?180 for that.

And do you know, that was one item I was just going to give to

a charity shop. They'd have been a very lucky charity shop.

'But I've got one more surprise up my sleeve.'

If you were to give me, out of your newly gained wad of cash,

?150...I would give you this.

Oh, my God, that's perfect!

It's a really nice, late 19th century... It's original, is it?

Absolutely. Solid oak chair. Perfect.

Oh, fit for a king. Comfy? Yeah, really comfy.

I'm going to be thinking about the things

I've got in my cupboards a bit more seriously in future!

Ben's a step closer to his perfect home, but are Nick and Deborah?

'The chic chalet shed has certainly got them thinking,

'but the other option is to downsize the collection.

'When Nick bought the majority of his cans

'the value was in its contents.

'Now they're empty packages, are they worth anything today?'

You've had the collection valued. Mark knows, I don't.

And, Deborah, how much do you think Nick spent on it?

Well, I suppose, over all this period of time,

must be at least ?10,000.

How much do you think you've spent on it, Nick?

Erm, I would say probably no more than a couple of grand, actually.

Really? Yeah(!)

That's in your world! Perhaps that's just wishful thinking.

Look at the amount of beer cans around here.

But it's certainly seven years' hard drinking, so...

I'd be intrigued to see what figure you come up with.

We feel that if it was sold in an auction house in Britain,

on the open market, your entire collection would fetch

somewhere in the region of ?10,000 to ?15,000.

Right.

As a complete collection, yeah? Mm.

What about the idea that

if you broke it down and sold individual pieces,

say, via the internet to a global audience,

would that increase the value?

As with anything, you get winner's curse. Right.

So you have naturally paid the top price

out of everybody who collects these things in the world.

If you were to resell it,

you're probably going to get a little bit less, perhaps.

It's probably slightly higher than I was expecting.

I'm relatively surprised that it was as much as this.

'Personally I'm astounded.

'?15,000 for essentially... (rubbish!)'

'This isn't rubbish, it's history.

'Take this cone top, brewed for the royal cruise to Australia

'and New Zealand in 1949, which would appeal to royal memorabilia hunters

'as well as beer-can enthusiasts.'

What did you pay for this? Couple of hundred pounds? Yeah. Yeah, it was.

We feel this would fetch in the region of ?300,

but it's primarily due to the fact that it's a cone top

and cross-market interest.

If you've not sort of levelled,

you've probably made a little bit of money there.

'For me the real value in this collection

'lies in the documentation of 80 years of a single industry.'

One of the things I particularly love are cans like this.

Who would have thought to save it?

Me! You. Me. Thank goodness.

This is probably the only one that's like this in this condition.

'But the big question remains - are Nick and Deborah ready

'to confront the fact they're living in a house

'which doesn't suit Deborah or the cans?'

Is anything going to change? I...

Not for the foreseeable future, but obviously, you know,

things can't carry on as they are forever,

so at some point we're going to have to sit down

and have that chat that I've been putting off.

I guess when I retire that's probably going to be the catalyst.

'Nick might be sticking to his guns

'but at least now he's prepared to address the problem.'

I think now there is a chance

that we could downsize

and he would be happy where he could put his beer cans,

so definitely, I think he'd definitely do it now.

In my heart of hearts I know that that decision isn't that

far away, it's probably, you know, three, four' years time. So...

I would counter it by saying that I was collecting cans before

I met Deborah, so to a certain extent the cans came first,

although obviously in our marriage and our future life together

we're going to have to compromise and it can't all be about the cans.

'Progress from Nick,

'but there's still no love for the cans from Deborah.'

Who's going to pay ?15,000 for it?

What would they do with it?

I mean, I can't see why anyone else

would pay that to have this collection.

No. I just personally can't see it.

Having sold a few items, railway enthusiast Stuart and wife Dawn

have been working hard renovating his once junk-filled buffet.

Hi, Stuart! Hello! Still waiting for the 9.14?

Yes, hasn't turned up yet.

'But he's still got way too much stuff,

'so we've come back to reveal what his surplus petroliana collection

'is worth, in the hope he might think of selling it.

'But first I'm ready for my pork pie and curly sandwich.'

MEL GASPS I'm sensing a fresh lick of paint.

Hello! Ohh, Dawn!

Oh, my goodness me. There's a bar! Dawn, hello! Hello!

Nice to see you. This is incredible. Oh, it's gorgeous. It's so cute.

A proper sort of glass cabinet. Wagon Wheels. Child of the '70s!

And a cash register, too. It looks like it's been here forever.

It does, yeah.

'The buffet is a stunning contrast to the clutter-filled junk room.

'Stuart's usual keen eye for detail is evident everywhere

'and there's even a pork pie for me.'

Pork pies are fresh, though.

Are they? They haven't been here for ages. That's a first.

Doesn't it feel nice to have created a new space?

It's taken us four weeks to do. And, Dawn, what do you think?

I think it's absolutely marvellous.

We've worked hard on it and it's as we want it.

You know, all the painting and setting it up,

I'm really made up with it. It's a labour of love.

Oh, yes, and it's got to look right.

You keep coming back to things,

oh, do that bit better, and a bit more paint.

And it's remarkable to think, as well, the very few pieces

that you've sold at auction have paid for all of this. That's right.

This has made us really do the job.

If you both decide to part with the petroliana,

just think what you could do.

DING

'It's a fantastic transformation,

'funded by the sale of just a few items, and I think we're close to

'getting Stuart act on track with his amazing vision.

'So it's time to reveal the petroliana valuation.

'Is Stuart ready to go one step further and sell a whole lot more?'

If I were to deliver you good news... Right.

Would it make a difference to you selling the collection?

I probably wouldn't. Why not, Stuart?

Where do I put the money next? Into railwayana. I could do.

If we were to offer your collection at auction,

we believe your collection would fetch...

..somewhere in the region of ?50,000 to ?70,000.

Good gracious! That's really... I don't... Can't believe it!

That's surprised me. Wow!

That's just for the petroliana.

That's not including the railwayana stuff. Crikey!

Wow!

Stuart, I have to say, you're an amazing collector.

Crikey, yeah, I didn't think it would be anything like that.

Dawn, you're really shocked, aren't you? I am! I can't believe it!

It's amazing. That is incredible! Oh, wow!

'Stuart's been making some fabulous purchases,

'like his Goodwood racing sign.'

That sign, complete with the plates you have,

they fetch around ?1,000 to ?1,500 at auction.

Ooh, crikey. What did you pay for that? 350.

'And it's easy to see how that huge valuation builds,

'as item after item would be expected to fetch

'far more than Stuart paid for them.'

The sign just behind you, you bought that for...

Er, I bought that for about ?70.

It's an exceptionally rare sign, one of the only known examples.

?700 to ?900. Good Lord. Wow.

This is all amazingly exciting but you must promise me,

please, keep the buffet area sacrosanct. Yes, definitely.

Please don't fill it with more signs. No, that will stay as it is.

I just can't believe it.

It's incredible that it's worth that much.

You know, he's got such a keen eye for everything. Just amazing.

'So, is Stuart ready to sell off the surplus stuff?'

I think I would sell most of the petroliana.

It does give me a window of opportunity to either

buy better things for the other collections or extend the buildings.

'It's great news.

'There's light at the end of the tunnel for all that railwayana.'

'All he needs now is the train.'

Shall we get the coach? Mm. Come on. Sounds good.

You bring the trunk. Oh, charming!

Next week, the man who shares his house with over 500 animals.

Never imagined that we'd end up with all this lot.

Two collectors under one roof struggling for supremacy.

My collection's the highbrow collection

and Francis's is the lowbrow!

And the thousand-piece pottery collection that's crashed in value.

Absolutely gutted. That's not selling them, it's giving them away.