If you’ve ever wondered whether the Berts are children’s characters or works of art, the answer is: yes.
They’re both. They have to be, because that’s how they were born.
The truth is, Weebert’s World wouldn’t exist without the sculptures.
And the sculptures wouldn’t exist without Andy.
And, as it turns out, neither would the stories without me.
This whole adventure began with a drawer of old aviation parts, a workshop, and one man quietly creating something from nothing.
Andy served for 27 years in the Army, working in aviation, and then 16 more years in the civilian world helping to keep helicopters safe in the skies. But behind all those years of service, structure, and precision, there came a moment when everything caught up with him.
Following a breakdown, Andy started making robot sculptures to help save his mental health. Not to sell. Not to show. Just to steady himself. He took scrap, old helicopter parts, clock springs, camera lenses, and gave them new life. One thoughtful creation at a time.
Then he made the biggest decision of all: to retire from aviation entirely, so he could focus on his artistic side. After being risk-averse for over 40 years, now was the time to do what his heart wanted him to do.
What began as a private form of healing became something quietly extraordinary: beautiful, one-of-a-kind robot sculptures, built entirely from reclaimed and recycled parts. Each one hand-built. Each one a story.
These sculptures are more than just objects, they’re stories in three dimensions. Some are sold as one-off originals through our online shop. Others, like Bootneck Bert, are commissioned pieces, designed to reflect a person’s story, trade, or service history.
And now, one of our largest sculptures; Bigbert, is being exhibited this summer as part of the Shrewsbury Arts Trail. We’re beyond proud that what started in our workshop is now being recognised as art by the wider community.
Each sculpture is hand-built by Andy. No two are the same. They bridge the generations, connecting veterans, artists, tinkerers, children, and collectors alike. Some people display them proudly in their homes. Others use them to spark conversations about identity, service, or resilience.
If you’d like to own your own Bert, you can browse the unique pieces available in our shop, or commission a custom-built sculpture with parts and stories that mean something to you.
I wouldn’t have written a single story if it weren’t for the sculptures.
I was watching Andy one day, placing a tiny spy camera onto a pair of opera glasses. He looked up and said, “This would make a great robot head.”
That little robot became Weebert, and something in me lit up.
I sat down and wrote: “Weebert was bored.”
And just like that, our kitchen table turned into a launchpad for stories, animations, dreams of cuddly recycled plastic toys, colouring sheets, and gentle stop-motion films. Now, we’re growing a whole children’s brand, but the heart of it is still the same.
Everything we do comes from the scrap.
People often comment on how well we work together.
The truth is, we’re very different, and that’s exactly why it works.
Andy sees form, balance, structure. (He is an engineer to the core!)
I see story, possibility, feeling.
The sculptures give me characters to write about.
The stories give his sculptures a voice.
It’s a real partnership. Not just between us, but between the art and the imagination.
Between the world of grown-ups who value craftsmanship, and the children who fall in love with the characters.
Whether you’re looking for something unique to display, a gift with meaning, or a custom piece with military or personal history built into it, there’s a Bert waiting to be made.
And if you’re here because of Weebert’s stories, or a child who coloured in a Cuddly Bert this week, now you know where it all began.
From scrap to sculpture.
From sculpture to story.
From one kitchen table, out into the world.
That’s Weebert’s World.
Lotty x
