&Daughters is a Vancouver-based design studio led by Emma Sims and Darcy Hanna. The two met while completing their Master's of Architecture at the University of British Columbia and founded the studio in 2017, building on backgrounds in commercial, hospitality, and residential design. Working fluidly across architecture, interiors, and retail, their projects span homes, restaurants, and independent spaces, each shaped by its surroundings rather than a fixed aesthetic. Grounded in collaboration, their work focuses on material, light, and layout with a sense of restraint, resulting in spaces that feel considered, lived-in, and built to hold up over time.
Wonders and gravitypope met up with them at their studio, and took a look at two of their favourite and most recent projects, AMA and Selene.
Read the interview below.
Who are you, and what do you both do?
We’re Emma and Darcy, and we run &Daughters, a Vancouver-based design studio. Our work spans interiors, architecture, and furniture, and we take a multidisciplinary approach to each project. We’re interested in creating spaces that feel both practical and expressive—grounded in how people actually live, but also carrying a certain clarity and a more subtle, poetic quality.
Conceptual exploration is really the backbone of our work. Early-stage research and pre-design thinking help us frame each project—looking closely at site, history, context, program, and use—and that process shapes everything that follows. It allows the work to develop from a strong internal logic, while still leaving room for moments that feel intuitive or atmospheric.
Material choices and formal decisions grow out of that foundation, so each project feels specific and intentional. We’re also really motivated by working within limitations, whether that’s budget, regulations, or existing conditions. Those constraints often become generative, pushing us toward solutions that are resourceful, enduring, and environmentally responsible.
How did you two first meet?
We met while doing our Master’s degrees at UBC’s School of Architecture and Landscape Architecture, where we were sat next to each other in our first studio and ended up working closely together pretty quickly. Throughout school we worked on a lot of projects together or side by side—we did a month-long design-build in Naramata, and later completed our thesis projects alongside each other as well.
In the summer after our first year, one of our first projects outside of school was designing elements for The Cheaper Show in Vancouver—building a bar out of CMU blocks, an entry screen from shipping pallets, and some furniture. It was very hands-on and collaborative, and really set the tone for how we still like to work.
What inspired you to start &Daughters together?
It felt like a natural extension of how we were already working—collaborative, intuitive, and very aligned in how we think about space. We wanted to build a practice where we could have more control over the kinds of projects we take on and how they’re executed, and where we could stay closely involved in carrying ideas through from concept to completion.
At the same time, it was important for us to shape a way of working that felt sustainable. Starting our own studio gave us more agency over our work-life balance—how we structure our time, how we take on projects, and how we prioritize both the work and everything outside of it. That flexibility has been just as important as the creative control.
What are some of your favourite places in Vancouver to spend time?
I have a three-year-old, so a lot of our time is shaped around that. We spend a lot of time at Granville Island—especially Siegel’s for bagels after Arts Umbrella. Fabrique St George is a favourite for a drink or a celebration—I even had my baby shower there—and I’ll often go to work as well. It’s one of those places that’s just as good for settling in for a few hours as it is for seeing friends.
Les Faux Bourgeois is my favourite restaurant. It’s down the street from where I grew up and has been around for a long time. It’s consistent and so good. I used to live in Paris, and it’s the closest thing we have to that kind of classic, unfussy French bistro experience in the city.
How would you describe your design practice in a few words?
Considered, material-driven, and quietly expressive. Our work is typically grounded in a clear conceptual framework that guides decision-making from the outset, helping each project develop with a strong internal logic. We place a strong emphasis on material longevity and often look to regional materials and methods, aiming to create work that feels both contextually grounded and built to last. We try to avoid anything that feels arbitrary—everything has a reason, whether it’s how a space flows, how materials meet, or how light is handled.
What’s your favourite kind of project to take on?
Projects where we can be involved early and think holistically—from planning through to the smallest details. We’re especially drawn to spaces that have a strong experiential component, like restaurants or homes, where how something feels day-to-day really matters.
A big part of what makes a project successful for us is the team and the client—having a shared mindset and level of trust makes it possible to push ideas further and enjoy the process along the way. We also really value opportunities to contribute to the cultural fabric of the city, which is something we’ve found especially meaningful in hospitality projects, where spaces can become part of people’s everyday rituals and collective experience.
What are you listening to in the studio lately?
A mix—I listen to a lot of older music, especially things I grew up around through my parents, mixed with some from my own youth. Lately that’s been Σtella, Graceland by Paul Simon, Giuni Russo, Dire Straits, Ladytron, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Pulp.
How do site and context shape your design decisions?
They’re fundamental. Context isn’t just physical—it’s cultural, social, and even emotional. We try to respond to what’s already there rather than impose something unrelated. That might come through in materials, scale, or how a space connects to its surroundings.
Sometimes context also includes the less obvious conditions—like budget, existing constraints, or elements that aren’t working but can’t easily be changed. In the case of AMA, the starting point was really the existing room and its limitations. We were working within a tight budget and trying to resolve some awkward conditions, including elements we wanted to minimize or conceal. That led to a more controlled approach—we chose to remove the windows and totally control the lighting conditions, which allowed us to create a more cohesive and intentional interior experience.
In that way, constraints and context often become the drivers of the project, shaping decisions in a way that feels both practical and conceptually grounded.
Any other local or national artists, designers or architects that inspire you or you'd like to shout out?
We’ve long been admirers of Scott & Scott—their approach to material and their willingness to do things a bit unconventionally is really inspiring. We also really like what Ivy Studio and Futurestudio are doing.
In terms of shout outs, we always want to mention Ste. Marie—Craig’s a visionary, and we find his studio and the way they approach their work incredibly inspiring. We also want to shout out some of our amazing contemporaries like Miki Blain (who recently joined our studio!!!), Shiloh Sukkau, Claire Saksun of Saksun Studio, and Aidan from Things From Gardens.
What role do materials play in telling a story within your projects?
Materials are a huge part of how a space communicates. They carry texture, warmth, and weight, and have a way of shaping how light moves through a room and how a space is experienced over time. We think a lot about how materials age, how they’re used, and how they come together at transitions—how one surface meets another can say as much as the material itself.
We try to be deliberate and restrained in how we use them, allowing a more focused palette to create a clear and cohesive atmosphere. Too many materials, or poorly considered ones, can make a space feel scattered. When they’re used thoughtfully, though, materials can quietly tell a story—one that unfolds through touch, light, and time rather than anything overt.
