We were first introduced to Megan as the Studio Manager of our friends and former neighbours, Studio Roslyn, not realizing she was also half the force behind the colourful, strange, and beautiful vases we had been spotting around town.
Stooludio began in 2020 in a small apartment filled with stools, born from a desire to explore new manufacturing methods that enable localized design. Embracing a playful approach to process and materials, Megan and her partner Andrew work at the intersection of digital automation and slow craft. Together, they design, print, and produce vases and home objects made from recycled and bioplastics, alongside hand-tufted custom wool rugs and one-of-a-kind plotted art prints created with their own custom-built machines.
In The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, Walter Benjamin argued that reproductions of art lack the “aura” or presence of an original. Stooludio flips this idea on its head: their pieces are not only original in design, but each is genuinely one-of-a-kind. They prove that aura, presence, and, most importantly, joy can emerge not in spite of production methods, but because of them.
We spoke with Megan and Andrew about coffee, salt water, and the scents that remind them of home. To learn more, follow @stooludio on Instagram.
Tell us about your favourite scents
Megan: It has to be strong, brewed coffee. There’s something sacred about it - that smell at the start of a new day feels like rebirth, like potential. There’s truly no better scent than coffee brewing after waking up in a tent, wrapped in a sleeping bag, looking out at a view that makes your chest ache in the best way. You just know it’s going to be the best day ever.
Andrew: And the ocean breeze, for me. I grew up on the island, always close to the sea, so the smell of salt water feels instantly comforting. It’s a reminder of home, of slow days and familiar coastlines. But it also carries a sense of adventure, something about the ocean always feels big, full of possibility. It grounds me and inspires me, all at once.
Tell us about a scent that’s tied to a specific memory
Megan: There are two smells, kind of intertwined.
One is whatever lingers in cold, stone European buildings, that damp, ancient air soaked into walls that have stood for centuries. The other is the scent of car garages: old paint, gasoline, and concrete that’s absorbed a thousand stories. Together, they remind me of getting out of the car as a kid in my best friend’s parkade on 7th. That place, and that person, hold so many of my best early memories.
Andrew: Somewhere between the flowers and the raspberry bushes in my parents' garden, and the smell of fresh-cut cedar or fir, that’s the scent of spring for me.
When the garden begins to pop off, the projects in the workshop begin too. That rhythm has carried through so many phases and memories in the house I grew up in, each year, the garden bigger, the projects more ambitious. It’s the smell of growth, creativity, and home.
