In Chinese culture, certain numbers — like 4 — are generally considered unlucky because of how they sound. I don't speak Mandarin or Cantonese, but as I understand it, 4 sounds similar to "death." And this is even more the case in Cantonese.
Four sounds exactly like death, fourteen sounds like "definitely die," and forty-four is the equivalent of "die, certainly die." (Please correct me if I'm wrong.) It is for this reason that in certain real estate markets, and in particular Cantonese-speaking markets like Hong Kong, 4-related numbers are often avoided whenever possible.
This can also be the case in other markets. Before we launched sales for One Delisle, the team made the decision to be mindful of this superstition and skip floors 4, 14, and 44. The result is that the homes on floor 4 became suite 501, 502, 503, and so on, and the building itself went from having 44 floors to 47 floors.
We did this so that nobody would be buying on the "die, certainly die" floor, and so from a marketing perspective, I think these strategies can make a lot of sense.
But what I would also say is that, from a development perspective, you should avoid this whenever possible. It adds coordination complexity. What we saw happening early on was that someone would say suite 501, and then you'd have someone else question whether they were talking about the suite on architectural/construction/legal level 5 or the suite on marketing level 5.
To solve this, we had to be extremely draconian about how levels and suite numbers were allowed to be communicated. Firstly, there's no such thing as a "legal" suite number. Suite numbers are purely a marketing thing — a number that goes on a front door. The legal description of a condominium suite involves a legal level and a legal unit.
So what we did was call a meeting and tell everyone the following: Any and all communication regarding suites needs to include the legal level, legal unit, and suite number, and failure to use all three numbers means you will be liable for any mistakes. We then updated the drawings to reflect this nomenclature.
Building buildings requires some assholes.
My first boss used to tell me that development is the closest thing to being in the military. Never having been in the military, I can't say whether this is accurate or not, but it should give you an indication of what it can feel like to build. Sometimes skipping floors is just what you need to do. But if you can avoid it, it's one less thing you need to be an ass about.
Cover photo by Christian Lue on Unsplash
I came across this tweet the other night showing Toronto's Yonge Street.
Tall buildings now line up along Yonge Street in behind the low-rise commercial storefronts that have lined the street for decades. In this image looking northwest across Yonge at the corner with Wellesley Street by UrbanToronto Forum contributor Lachlan Holmes, the new
In Chinese culture, certain numbers — like 4 — are generally considered unlucky because of how they sound. I don't speak Mandarin or Cantonese, but as I understand it, 4 sounds similar to "death." And this is even more the case in Cantonese.
Four sounds exactly like death, fourteen sounds like "definitely die," and forty-four is the equivalent of "die, certainly die." (Please correct me if I'm wrong.) It is for this reason that in certain real estate markets, and in particular Cantonese-speaking markets like Hong Kong, 4-related numbers are often avoided whenever possible.
This can also be the case in other markets. Before we launched sales for One Delisle, the team made the decision to be mindful of this superstition and skip floors 4, 14, and 44. The result is that the homes on floor 4 became suite 501, 502, 503, and so on, and the building itself went from having 44 floors to 47 floors.
We did this so that nobody would be buying on the "die, certainly die" floor, and so from a marketing perspective, I think these strategies can make a lot of sense.
But what I would also say is that, from a development perspective, you should avoid this whenever possible. It adds coordination complexity. What we saw happening early on was that someone would say suite 501, and then you'd have someone else question whether they were talking about the suite on architectural/construction/legal level 5 or the suite on marketing level 5.
To solve this, we had to be extremely draconian about how levels and suite numbers were allowed to be communicated. Firstly, there's no such thing as a "legal" suite number. Suite numbers are purely a marketing thing — a number that goes on a front door. The legal description of a condominium suite involves a legal level and a legal unit.
So what we did was call a meeting and tell everyone the following: Any and all communication regarding suites needs to include the legal level, legal unit, and suite number, and failure to use all three numbers means you will be liable for any mistakes. We then updated the drawings to reflect this nomenclature.
Building buildings requires some assholes.
My first boss used to tell me that development is the closest thing to being in the military. Never having been in the military, I can't say whether this is accurate or not, but it should give you an indication of what it can feel like to build. Sometimes skipping floors is just what you need to do. But if you can avoid it, it's one less thing you need to be an ass about.
Cover photo by Christian Lue on Unsplash
I came across this tweet the other night showing Toronto's Yonge Street.
Tall buildings now line up along Yonge Street in behind the low-rise commercial storefronts that have lined the street for decades. In this image looking northwest across Yonge at the corner with Wellesley Street by UrbanToronto Forum contributor Lachlan Holmes, the new
In the foreground are small, two-storey main street—type buildings. And behind them are tall buildings. This is very Toronto. What you're seeing here is a condition that occurs all around the city. Though in many ways, it feels counterintuitive. I mean, shouldn't the tallest buildings be right on the main street?
In my opinion, this condition is happening for at least two reasons.
The first is that Toronto's historic main streets tend to have a fine-grained lot fabric, which means they're more challenging to assemble for larger developments. Assemblies are a complex art, and they get exponentially more difficult the more property owners and feuding siblings you add into the mix. So the path of least resistant is larger and chunkier sites.
The second reason has to do with context. We tend to want to preserve the feel of our historic main streets. One Delisle is an example of this. The podium of the tower is scaled to exactly match what was there before — an Art Deco-style facade from the 20s that will return to the site.
However, we didn't have this same constraint on its other elevation (Delisle Avenue) and so we fought not to have your typical podium + setback tower. Instead, we wanted a street level experience that had more presence and urban grandeur.
This, to me, is an important distinction to consider. Are we setting height back because of history and context? Both of which are important. Or are we setting it back because we're pretending to still be a provincial Anglo-Protestant town? Sometimes it seems like it's because of the latter.
Yesterday, February 28, 2025, the team installed the first piece of unitized curtain wall at One Delisle (on level two facing the outdoor amenity terrace and beside the indoor pool). Last year I was going around telling everyone that we would have glass up on the building in the first quarter of this year, and so I'm really glad that I was not made out to be a liar. Thanks team. This is a milestone date.
For those of you who maybe aren't familiar, there are two types of window systems that are commonly used in high-rise residential buildings. They are usually referred to as window wall and curtain wall. The former is more common in Toronto because it's, well, the cheapest; but there are curtain wall buildings other than One Delisle. Sometimes the same building might also use both systems. (In saying this, I'm specifically referring to the upper floors, because curtain wall is often used for ground-floor commercial spaces.)
The key difference is that window wall systems sit between floor slabs and get anchored at the sill and the head (the top of the slab on the bottom and the bottom of the slab on the top). Curtain wall systems, on the other hand, get anchored to the exterior slab edges and also "bypass" them. You can see that in the above photo. There are advantages and disadvantages to both systems, but generally speaking, curtain wall is viewed as higher quality, and the more expensive option.
In the case of One Delisle, we explored and were open to both options during the design process. But ultimately window wall just didn't seem like the right system to realize the unique geometries of this building. So we went with curtain wall, worked through a lengthy design-assist process with the subcontractor, built a bunch of mockups to make sure everything looked and worked well, and now it's being installed on site.
Level two is likely going to be the most challenging floor because of the double-height pool area. So I'll be sure to share more photos once it's all enclosed.
In the foreground are small, two-storey main street—type buildings. And behind them are tall buildings. This is very Toronto. What you're seeing here is a condition that occurs all around the city. Though in many ways, it feels counterintuitive. I mean, shouldn't the tallest buildings be right on the main street?
In my opinion, this condition is happening for at least two reasons.
The first is that Toronto's historic main streets tend to have a fine-grained lot fabric, which means they're more challenging to assemble for larger developments. Assemblies are a complex art, and they get exponentially more difficult the more property owners and feuding siblings you add into the mix. So the path of least resistant is larger and chunkier sites.
The second reason has to do with context. We tend to want to preserve the feel of our historic main streets. One Delisle is an example of this. The podium of the tower is scaled to exactly match what was there before — an Art Deco-style facade from the 20s that will return to the site.
However, we didn't have this same constraint on its other elevation (Delisle Avenue) and so we fought not to have your typical podium + setback tower. Instead, we wanted a street level experience that had more presence and urban grandeur.
This, to me, is an important distinction to consider. Are we setting height back because of history and context? Both of which are important. Or are we setting it back because we're pretending to still be a provincial Anglo-Protestant town? Sometimes it seems like it's because of the latter.
Yesterday, February 28, 2025, the team installed the first piece of unitized curtain wall at One Delisle (on level two facing the outdoor amenity terrace and beside the indoor pool). Last year I was going around telling everyone that we would have glass up on the building in the first quarter of this year, and so I'm really glad that I was not made out to be a liar. Thanks team. This is a milestone date.
For those of you who maybe aren't familiar, there are two types of window systems that are commonly used in high-rise residential buildings. They are usually referred to as window wall and curtain wall. The former is more common in Toronto because it's, well, the cheapest; but there are curtain wall buildings other than One Delisle. Sometimes the same building might also use both systems. (In saying this, I'm specifically referring to the upper floors, because curtain wall is often used for ground-floor commercial spaces.)
The key difference is that window wall systems sit between floor slabs and get anchored at the sill and the head (the top of the slab on the bottom and the bottom of the slab on the top). Curtain wall systems, on the other hand, get anchored to the exterior slab edges and also "bypass" them. You can see that in the above photo. There are advantages and disadvantages to both systems, but generally speaking, curtain wall is viewed as higher quality, and the more expensive option.
In the case of One Delisle, we explored and were open to both options during the design process. But ultimately window wall just didn't seem like the right system to realize the unique geometries of this building. So we went with curtain wall, worked through a lengthy design-assist process with the subcontractor, built a bunch of mockups to make sure everything looked and worked well, and now it's being installed on site.
Level two is likely going to be the most challenging floor because of the double-height pool area. So I'll be sure to share more photos once it's all enclosed.
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