It’s Always Golden Hour in Emily Yates’ Byron Bay Bungalow

There’s a famous sign you pass when driving into the Australian Shire of Byron that reads, “Welcome to Byron Bay – Cheer Up, Slow Down, Chill Out.” Since the 1960s, the area has become synonymous with laid-back living and a free-spirited rhythm – and the atmosphere inside photographer Emily Yates’ coastal home is no exception.

As a photographer, Emily’s work is defined by a dreamy, sunlit coastal quality – sparkling oceans and golden shores. This earthy-yet-elevated aesthetic informs her world, so naturally when a mid-century beach shack entered the market just minutes from the seaside, she had a clear, intuitive vision of what it could be. For Emily, that vision wasn’t about grandeur – it was about creating something that felt true to its setting, “We really wanted to lean into the '70s beach vibe. We live in a tiny surfing community, and I didn’t want the house to stand out too much from all the other heritage-style homes in the area,” she says.

The result is a home that feels completely grounded – a soulful space shaped by light, texture, and a deep respect for place.

Renowned Japanese architect Tadao Ando once said, “I don’t believe architecture has to speak too much. It should remain silent and let nature in the guise of sunlight and wind.” Emily may not have followed a strict architectural philosophy, but her approach to renovating echoes the principles of contextual design – creating a home that responds to its surroundings, from the natural landscape to the feel of the neighbourhood. With a considered touch, her house doesn’t shout for attention; it simply belongs – softly rooted in the community she’s made her own.

“Both Will and I are really inspired by Japanese architecture,” says Emily. “We didn’t want the house to look Japanese because that wouldn’t suit the area, but we drew a lot of inspiration from natural materials – wood, woven textures. It gives the space a warm, lived-in feel.”

“I want it to feel warm and homely – lived-in and loved. I didn’t want it to look like a new build. We reused as much as we could: furniture, original wood, recycled materials. The floorboards are spotted gum, which we uncovered under the lino. We matched all the window trims, decks, and exterior cladding to that wood. We wanted the house to feel new but still part of the community, not an eyesore.”

As Emily, her husband Will and their two children Fox and Yumi have eased into their new hometown, they’ve felt embraced by the long-established community surrounding them. “The town is really proud and close-knit. All the older neighbours have stopped to tell us they love what we’ve done. It’s been sweet – we’ve kind of proven ourselves,” she laughs.

This isn’t Emily’s first foray into coastal living or undertaking a renovation project, but it’s the one that feels most like home – a natural culmination of everything that came before. “Will and I have both always lived on the coast. We built a house in Byron before this one, on the hill overlooking town – technically hinterland, but only a 15-20 minute drive to the beach. He grew up sailing and surfing with his three brothers, so being near the ocean was a big part of his life. When we sold that house, his dream was to be close enough to walk to the beach.”

That dream has become a reality – along with their desire to create a space that reflects the season of life they’re in. Rather than sleek minimalism, there’s a wabi-sabi sensibility. Instead of sharp lines and curated order, there’s warmth and ease. “Our last house was beautiful but not practical – it felt like a big white museum,” says Emily. “It wasn’t built for kids or family life. This time, we wanted a home that made sense for a young family. I didn’t want anything to feel too precious. I wanted it to feel warm, lived in, and functional.”

For those planning their own renovation or new build, Emily’s advice is simple but wise: Always test for asbestos. “You’d be surprised where it shows up!” she warns. “Also, pick a central theme for your home and stick to it. Stay true to the era and the area you’re building in. Don’t try to mix too many styles – it just gets confusing.”

Years of trial, error, and experience have shaped Emily’s perspective. “It’s still a work in progress. We’ve made it liveable, but it’ll take another couple of years to finish,” she says. “I didn’t want to rush it. I wanted it to evolve organically – to find the right vintage pieces, choose things we love, and build it practically, step by step. That’s the opposite of what we did with our last place, and it’s been really nice.”

While life in a sleepy beach town might conjure an idealised vision of barefoot bliss, it’s not all breezy mornings and ocean dips. “We have a three- and five-year-old, so ‘slow living’ is a stretch – sometimes we’re surviving, not thriving! But we do live in a tiny beach town with a strong sense of community, so I think we naturally live a slow, community-based life. It’s not intentional, it’s just how things have evolved here.”

This conscious way of living extends to the small details – blooms snipped from Emily’s backyard cut garden, produce grown just steps from the kitchen, and a home full of second-hand treasures thoughtfully restored and accumulated over time. It’s also alive in the daily routines and rituals that anchor their days at home, “We play a lot of music. The record player is central to the house. Music makes everything – cooking, cleaning – more enjoyable. We also burn a lot of candles and incense,” says Emily. “I love the idea of my kids having nostalgic smells that remind them of home. I always burn the same incense and use the same candles. The house has a specific scent now, which feels really comforting.”

Her favourite feature is a surprisingly practical one. “Will is a plumber – and he didn’t want a pot filler in our last house, but I really wanted one,” she says, referring to the swing-out faucet installed to easily fill pots with water. “So this time I got it. It’s so funny because every single woman who comes over comments on it. I'm always like, ‘See, I told you, Will!’ I’m really happy with that pot filler,” she laughs.

A more sentimental highlight is the art that fills their home. “All the art in the house has been collected over time from our travels. Will always brings back a piece of art, so he’s constantly scouting markets and shops. Everything we have, art-wise, has been collected along the way.”

“He went to Italy last year and brought home two really beautiful, old Sicilian prints of shells. They’re in vintage frames I found at the antique market in Brunswick. They’re my favourite.”

The finishing touches are yet to come – a woven bamboo ceiling to complete the kitchen and a new fireplace to cosy up the living space. Pending approval by the council (Byron Shire time is a limbo they know all too well), the bathroom will be finished by the end of the year. Never one to sit still, Emily has already set her sights on a new project, this time in Tasmania, where a cooler climate and lush green land awaits. “We’re about to start a new build in Tassie. We’ve got another little beach shack there and I want to do a Swedish summer house vibe. Honestly, that one might be finished before this one!”

Emily’s eye for capturing beauty is honed and instinctive, which reveals itself in every detail of her home. Hers is a sanctuary designed for family and connection — a place where golden hour lingers a little longer.