What if mum’s not home? It’s a moment every child has dreamed of: a taste of freedom and mischief, when everyday rules seem to fade away, even just for a while. That same playful spirit lives on at Mum’s Not Home, a cozy upstairs hideout tucked away in Yau Ma Tei.
Just a block away from arthouse cinema Broadway Cinematheque and its accompanying bookstore-café, Kubrick, Mum’s Not Home is tucked away in a tong lau, surrounded by electronics shops and residential buildings. But it’s hard to miss, thanks to a colourful mural of its mascot, Faye Faye — inspired by the Cantonpop diva Faye Wong’s iconic Bantu knots — with the shop’s name boldly painted against a lively blue background.
Climb up to the first floor and ring the doorbell; Mum’s Not Home will open its door, and you’ll be greeted by its two owners: Chow Kong-chuen, a fashion designer; and Ma Chun-kui, a visual artist. In 2015, the duo founded the shop after returning from a working holiday in Australia. “I remember as a kid, whenever my mum went out for groceries, my brother and I would go wild at home,” Ma chuckles, explaining the shop’s name. “We drew from that childhood memory and used ‘mum’ as a metaphor for life’s constraints. Mum’s Not Home is our way of breaking free to do what we love.”
More than a café
Chow and Ma run the café full-time. More than just a place for homemade cheesecake and drinks, it’s an art studio where the duo can bring their otherworldly ideas to life. Over time, this roughly 600-square-foot venue has hosted boutiques, yoga classes, live music gigs, art jamming sessions, wedding shoots, podcasts, exhibitions and even haircuts.
“We started out as a fashion store, selling our handmade clothing, jewellery and lamps,” says Chow. “As more people came in, they started suggesting we try this and that. For example, the haircut service was because I enjoy giving people haircuts. And the music gigs began when performers approached us, asking if they could sing here. We didn’t expect people would be so open to our ke4 le4 (騎呢 kooky) ideas.”
Indeed, the philosophy of the shop might seem out of place in Hong Kong, whose mainstream culture emphasises stability and financial success. In fact, Chow and Ma had originally planned to open it in Australia and were even applying for their work visas. Then, one day, they stumbled across this empty tenement building during a stroll through Yau Ma Tei. Out of curiosity, they contacted an agent and arranged to view the unit that very night.
“It looked horrible,” the pair say in unison. “It was being used as a warehouse, and the electricity and water had been cut off. At night, it was completely dark – nothing more than a ruin,” recalls Chow. It’s hard for them to explain exactly why they chose the place, but they clearly saw its potential. After months of work, they transformed it into a colourful, dreamy space. The first things that catch the eye are items of handmade clothing, followed by travel souvenirs and quirky trinkets. Further into the space is a free seating area adorned with an eclectic mix of vintage furniture, paintings, plants, and mirrors.
An ever-changing space
Each piece was either a gift from friends or salvaged from the street, then lovingly restored and styled by the duo.“Nearly 90 percent of the furniture was collected from the streets. No two pieces are alike. What others saw as trash, we saw as treasure,” Ma laughs, introducing the shop’s décor.
That includes the café’s vintage chairs: wooden ladder-backs, bent bamboo, rattan and folding chairs that exude Hong Kong charm. Perhaps the most iconic among them is the rattan. Often handcrafted by skilled artisans, rattan furniture was a household staple throughout the last century, with most homes owning at least one or two pieces. By the 2000s, however, rattan had begun to fade from everyday life in Hong Kong, due to changing tastes, the rising cost of production and the ever-shrinking size of Hong Kong flats. This May, one of the city’s last remaining rattan furniture stores, Rattan Art Co., closed its doors after 43 years. Chow and Ma have breathed new life into such vintage pieces by repairing and redecorating them with colourful cushions and playful touches.
And the space is never static – they change the setup from time to time. “After we come back from a trip, we’ll usually change the furniture and theme of the shop based on what inspired us during the journey. People even ask if we change it too often,” says Chow cheerfully. One time, they removed all the chairs and invited guests to sit on the floor in a Japanese tatami-style setup. Another time, they arranged a single long table with high chairs for communal sharing. Most recently, the shop was transformed into a wedding banquet, with a round table draped in a red tablecloth at the centre, surrounded by smaller seating areas for intimate groups.
“It was because a friend we made here said they wanted to host a wedding banquet, so we spent a month brainstorming and decorating Mum’s Not Home with wedding bouquets and pom poms,” explains Ma. “We’re a bit ‘passively proactive’. It’s like going on a trip and getting inspired by what you see; we’re always driven by the people we meet here and the requests they make.”
A home for kindred spirits
For Chow and Ma, Mum’s Not Home is about creating a space where they could truly be themselves. They didn’t expect this personal, quirky little home would grow into a community – a chosen family of friends who have shared life’s highs and lows together. “You don’t usually walk into a random shop and tell a stranger your life story. But because we’re not hired staff, we’re the owners, people feel more at ease,” says Chow. “That familiarity builds quickly. By the second visit, it already feels like we know each other.”
The owners recall how, during the pandemic, despite strict social distancing rules and growing competition from a surge of new cafés in the city, people still chose to come support them. “I remember asking them, ‘Aren’t you afraid [of getting COVID]?’ And they all said no,” says Chow.
“They were more afraid we would close the shop,” adds Ma, recalling when his father passed away recently, people sent comforting messages and even condolence money. “In that moment, I truly felt there was love in the world. We’ve been really lucky – we’ve met so many kind, genuine souls. The furniture and products are just material things you can let go of, but human connection and warmth. That’s something truly rare to find as you grow older.”
More than a decade in, Chow and Ma hope Mum’s Not Home will continue to grow and evolve. “It would be great if the brand can become a lou5 zi6 hou6 (老字號, a time-honoured name), like PMQ, something that can stand the test of time,” Ma says playfully, adding that their plan is just simply to “go with the flow.”
“At this stage, we’re mostly doing collaborations and dabbling in things that interest us,” says Chow. “We’re very driven by our feelings,” adds Ma. “One thing we have learned from our travels is that plans can never keep up with changes, just like when we first started the shop. If one path doesn’t work, we try another. We never insist on doing just one thing, which is why this place is always evolving.”
Mum’s Not Home is located at 1/F, 302 Shanghai Street, Yau Ma Tei.
Photography: May James for Zolima CityMag
Correction: An earlier version of this article inversed the occupations of Chow Kong-chuen and Ma Chun-kui. It has since been amended.