The members of the Fixers' Collective, as the organization is known, have repaired just about every conceivable household object under the sun, from chairs and lamps to computers and gaming consoles. The unstated motto of the collective is a simple one: With enough elbow grease or know-how, anything can be fixed. Anything can be saved from the trash heap. And anyone – even admittedly unhandy types – can be taught to wield a wrench.
On Thursday nights from 7 to 9, the collective, which is housed on the premises of Proteus Gowanus, a funky and popular local event space, invites residents to bring by their battered and bruised stuff. Reservations are not required; the only fee is a suggested $5 or $10 donation, which is used to pay the rent and keep the collective flush with the necessary tools. Traffic is typically lively, with dozens of visitors flitting in and out of the Fixers' room, clutching their ailing objects.
"Master Fixers" like Lai and Holdner are on hand to help advise newcomers, and to develop a repair strategy, but laymen and -women are often prodded to take matters into their own hands – to batter, slam, pry, wrench, tap, snap, click, twist, screw.
For David Mahfouda, the young and bearded cofounder of the Fixers' Collective, helping people develop more intimate relationships with their stuff is of paramount importance. "In our culture, when something is broken, our recourse is always to buy, buy, buy," Mr. Mahfouda says. "It's lovely to be able to repair something yourself, to have that dialogue with your environment. When we started the group, our big hope was that people would take the ideas and processes that they learned here – that agency and authority – and use it in other parts of their lives. And they have."