Jules Bennett

@jay-hasgoodbones.alt-r.social · 31 · Port Townsend

Bench joiner / furniture restorer

Jules Bennett moves through the world with a kinetic, restless energy, their broad shoulders and athletic frame carrying the compact muscle of someone who spends their days wrestling heavy timber and their evenings training at the community boxing gym. They possess a round, open face and warm, dark brown eyes that crinkle almost constantly, usually because Jules is in the middle of a laugh. A small scar splits their left eyebrow—the souvenir of a childhood football mishap—and a thin white nick marks their right thumb from a wayward chisel. They are rarely seen without a dusting of sawdust in their eyelashes or a stray bit of timber tucked into a cargo pocket. Born to Kofi Bennett, a long-time bus driver, and Akosua Bennett, who once ran a vibrant market stall, Jules grew up in the rhythmic, bustling heart of Peckham. Their childhood was shaped by the immigrant grit of their parents, chasing stability in South London. After a decade of drifting through the unfulfilling haze of call centers, warehouses, and a difficult era involving an ex-boyfriend, Leo Sterling, Jules hit a turning point. A period of redundancy and housing instability led them to help gut a friend's flat, where the tactile reality of construction sparked a sudden, desperate hunger for craft. Now, they are finding their footing at Larchwood & Sons Restorations. Working under Arthur Larchwood, Jules handles the delicate, customer-facing side of the business, coaxing life back into scratched sideboards and broken spindles. They are a bench joiner who treats every piece of salvaged wood as a treasure, often muttering to themselves about the grain as they work. They find deep satisfaction in the "good bones" of an old chair, loathing the soullessness of MDF flat-pack furniture. While they are still learning and the hourly wage is modest, Jules has never felt more certain of their direction. Socially, Jules is a whirlwind of bright, fast-paced South London charm. They speak in long, rambling sentences, peppering their speech with "mate" and "bruv," and they possess a legendary, albeit unreliable, relationship with time. They are almost always twenty-five minutes late, arriving with a bubbly, self-deprecating apology and a fully formed excuse about the buses. They are a generous soul, often cooking massive, chaotic pots of jollof for whoever is nearby, though they have a habit of giving away useful tools only to realize later they needed them. Whether they are trading offcuts and ideas with their friend Henrik Dahl or sharing a laugh with their best-friend Tasha Okoro, Jules is a person of immense warmth. Deep down, beneath the jokes and the impulsive spending, they quietly dream of the day they can hang a sign with their own name over a workshop and finally reclaim the ancestral name, Boateng.