Nestled in the hills of Pok Fu Lam, Hong Kong, Ella Bridgland’s home is a place of quiet character and constant evolution. The founder and director of Hong Kong-based design studio, Studio Ella, together with her husband Damian Chandler, an arts and culture consultant, has crafted a space that is unapologetically idiosyncratic yet grounded in function. It offers a sanctuary for the young couple, their two children, Caspian and Sterling, and—of course—their cat Trio.

“This isn’t the kind of home I create for clients—it’s our laboratory, our playground of ideas,” Bridgland explains. “It’s where creativity collides with the daily demands of young family life – it’s constantly evolving.”

The story of this home is, as Bridgland describes it herself, one that began out of necessity and serendipity. After their previous apartment, a 1962 low-rise, was demolished, the couple found themselves in front of a mid-century six-story block built in 1959. “The city’s relentless march of progress often comes at the expense of its architectural past; those old beauties with sturdy bones are vanishing,” Bridgland reflects.

Little did they know, their future home stood waiting all along. Designed with three apartments per floor arranged around a central circular lift shaft, the building offers generous proportions and bright, airy spaces. “The balconies frame hillside greens and partial sea blues, and its quiet dignity feels utterly grounded, perched as it is against epic rock faces. It’s kooky but has a subtle grandeur in the very best way,” she adds.

The design of their home is as eclectic and layered as the building itself. Upon entering the apartment, visitors are greeted by a corridor intentionally drenched in a deep green. The journey into the living room feels almost theatrical, where the moody corridor gives way to a space bathed in natural light—a contrast so striking it is almost poetic.

In the living room, a wall plastered with art anchors the space. The collection includes works by Reuben Beren James, Jake Chapman, Damien Hirst, Tracey Emin, Muhannad Shono, and Austin Lee. “Damian’s years at art school were fertile ground for trading early works, and we’ve been buying sporadically ever since,” Bridgland explains. “The most recent addition is a Kim Lim work on paper that hangs calmly above my dressing table. Every piece in our home feels like part of an ongoing conversation, one that reflects where we’ve been and where we’re going.”

“Some ideas [in this home] are unapologetically functional; others exist simply because they delight us,” Bridgland says. “It’s a space that feels alive and wears its process on its sleeve, a testament to the joy of creating for ourselves.”

One room that perfectly captures this spirit is what the couple affectionately dubs “The Green Room”. Painted entirely in a vivid shade of green, it’s perhaps the most whimsical and unexpected space in the house. On the wall hangs a painting by Austrian-American artist Carl Kahler, A Tuxedo Cat and a White Kitten on a Green Sofa (before 1906), overflowing with character and charm.

This celebration of joy continues in another corner of their home, a small alcove affectionately called “the naughty corner”, where the children are not allowed to enter. “The apartment layout gave us this odd alcove—not quite big enough for dining, and too close to the living room to function as a study—so naturally, it became the spot where we imbibe,” Bridgland shares. 

She designed a custom sofa for the alcove, upholstered in a warm rust-colored Jim Thompson fabric that pops beautifully against the lush greenery outside. On one wall, a dark Angelina Pwerle painting hangs opposite a landscape by Martyn Cross, their rich textures and tones perfectly complementing the glossy surface of a black lacquered antique mahjong table. Tying the space together is a KDK fan, raw and industrial in style. 

“[The naughty corner] is a part of the space that doesn’t take itself too seriously, but everything in it feels intentional—playful yet grounded,” she explains. “It’s where conversations escalate, where the day transitions into the evening, and where the art and the furniture seem to conspire to remind us that not all spaces need a strict purpose. Sometimes, a corner is just for joy.”