For the next few weeks, Franprix will be stocking five of its Paris shops with the famous Krispy Kreme doughnut brand. Identical to those offered in its 19 outlets, the doughnuts are prepared in the workshop of Krispy Kreme’s flagship in the Westfield Forum des Halles, then delivered fresh each morning to Franprix in a branded stand installed at the shop entrance. An ideal way to tempt customers at any time of day. Customers can help themselves to individual items or choose a box of 6 or 12, either pre-packaged, or to mix and match from the recipes that have made the chain such a success since its arrival in France in December 2023. They also have access to limited editions, depending on the events and highlights organised by Krispy Kreme.

The brand experience is therefore similar to that offered by its own outlets. It is a relocated, but not downgraded, experience, reminiscent of department store shops-in-shops, which allow brands that want to establish themselves there to reproduce their identity codes and shopping experience. In five years’ time, if the current test proves successful, there should be almost 500 Krispy Kreme units in supermarkets.

Far from being anecdotal, Franprix’s initiative reveals the kind of local retailer we will see in the future: one offering brands from other sectors as proof of its empathy and ability to capture the spirit of the times. It is a way of enriching the customer’s shopping experience and stimulating unexpected desires that are likely to change their habits.

The new challenge facing the retail sector is to create places of surprise and wonder, rather than just places of familiarity and repetition, driven by the question of price and need. During the health crisis, Franprix had already stood out by housing Hema in order to meet the demand for household accessories from its customers, forced to make do with closed shops… The success of a retailer depends not only on its geographical location and the traffic that it can generate, but also on its ability to avoid always being in the place usually assigned to it.

When a promise is reduced to low prices, consumption is confined to need. When it offers the unexpected, it grows into pleasure and want.

To present its electric Renault 5 E-Tech, Renault has come up with a new distribution concept for the hypercentres of the world’s major cities, which can be seen at 104 boulevard Haussmann in Paris. In addition to its small size and its range of related products (miniatures, clothing and accessories), the uniqueness of the place lies, for those who are observant, in its name: not Renault Service, or even just Renault, but an unexpected RNLT.

In the fashion world, Diesel, DSquared2 and Mango have long been known as DSL, DSQ2 and MNG, and fashion brand Caroll has recently launched a line of sleek, premium leather goods called CRLL. In the media, no-one asks what TPMP stands for any more (especially recently…) and everyone is used to reading or hearing QVEMA (Qui Veut Être Mon Associé?), DAVS (Danse Avec les Stars) and ONPC (On N’est Pas Couché). And more.

This wave of acronyms is no coincidence. Contractions are the order of the day. A phenomenon that can be explained by our distorted relationship with time, which always seems to be lacking, as much as by our insatiable desire to demonstrate our modernity by reinventing what already exists. The explanation can also be found in the new technologies and social media, which have reinvented spelling, punctuation and our habits.

For a brand, reducing its name to a succession of letters means first and foremost changing the way it appears and therefore attracts attention. It is about recognition rather than legibility. The primacy of the concept over reality. It is another way of attracting a new generation of buyers. Renault is a Boomer brand with its historical reference to Louis Renault and his imaginary workers’ struggles associated with a town that was still called Boulogne Billancourt. RNLT is a Gen Z brand whose reference point is Start-Up Nation and Boulogne as the home of the Seine Musicale. A Gen Z that has never hidden its immoderate taste for logos, all destined one day to end up on a hoodie or an XXL T-shirt. After all, it does not seem that complicated for a brand to reinvent itself.

Isn’t a society that displays such a taste for contractions telling us, in its own way, that it is in the process of giving birth to a new version of itself?

Over the years, Paris Fashion Week has become a kind of commercial celebration unlike any other, capable of renewing a genre that was thought to be stuck forever between multiple sales periods and the now ritual Black Friday. While the latter focus exclusively on price, the events organised during Fashion Week emphasise the experience, the moment and the immersion. A far smarter strategy, one that helps to give consumer spending the emotional touch it deserves at a time when the battle for the lowest price seems to be lost in advance for the vast majority of brands and retailers.

Between the plethora of pop-ups and ephemeral cafés promising ‘unique and convivial’ experiences, and the private evenings in unusual places that punctuate Fashion Week (with a strong penchant for museums and galleries, just to give it a cultural edge), the initiative by fashion brand Samsoe Samsoe, although confidential, deserves attention. It consisted of encouraging its customers to let go of their smartphones and make the most of the present moment in exchange for a discount of up to 30% – calculated on the actual reduction in time spent on their screens. All they had to do was turn up at one of the brand’s two Paris shops with proof of their good behaviour.

Called ‘Pay with screen time’, the operation had all the ingredients for success. For customers: a limited timeframe to keep their attention, a personal challenge that could become a source of pride worthy of being featured on social media, and a reward in the form of a discount. For the brand: the opportunity to take up a social issue – digital disconnection – and show a committed face. Hard to beat that. “More than just a good deal, this activation is a cultural statement in the hyper-digital landscape of our daily lives”, lyrically asserted the brand’s press release. We could not have said it better.

The press recently informed us that the Selfridges department stores had just launched an innovative loyalty programme based on rewarding time spent in the shop. The more time I devote to my consumption, the more it becomes a culture and the more my relationship with the brands I frequent deepens. Slowing down is not only virtuous on the roads.

Long given a negative connotation, the word routine has found a sudden and unexpected appeal through the lens of beauty and cosmetics. Better still, it has become a form of modernity, as it is now impossible to consider taking care of one’s appearance without having an appropriate routine : the skincare routine. Once associated with habits and idiosyncrasies, routine has now become synonymous with expertise, to the point of being seen as a form of personal expression, or even an ‘ego-booster’ for personal growth.

Anyone who invents a new routine is immediately rewarded with recognition and the coveted status of influencer, making them a sure-fire hit on social media. Especially with Gen Z, of course. Everyone can try their hand at layering, whether in skincare, make-up or fragrances.

Another virtue of routine is that it knows no boundaries. It can be found in the world of cooking as well as DIY, in the form of ‘tips’ that are dropped in confidence, and which immediately give those who pick them up the feeling of being in a higher category. More precise and rewarding than the usual ‘how to’ advice, routine is the antechamber to professionalism, at the crossroads of tradition (reproducing time-honoured gestures) and innovation (inventing new practices to assert one’s difference).

It embodies an unprecedented mode of appropriation in which consumers cease to be merely those who carry out what is asked of them, and become those who invent their own path, innovate and thus assert their autonomy from brands. This shift is no coincidence, at a time when more and more consumers are questioning what brands are telling them…

According to a study recently published by Klarna, a Swedish online shopping and payment fintech, 94% of French people believe that beauty routines have a beneficial effect on their mental well-being by increasing their self-confidence and self-esteem. We also recently learned that Aroma Zone is now in second place among France’s favourite beauty brands, whereas it was not in the Top 10 even a year ago. Why should we be surprised? Isn’t Aroma Zone the temple of DIY and new skincare routines?

The press recently informed us that, after a high-profile collaboration with his friend Pharrell Williams for the forthcoming Louis Vuitton men’s collection, Nigo, the Japanese designer behind Kenzo and a DJ and music producer in his spare time, has become artistic director of FamilyMart, a Japanese convenience store chain particularly famous for its egg sandwiches…

Founded in 1978, the brand now has over 16,000 shops in Japan and more than 8,000 abroad. So this is far from an ungrounded collaboration between the hip guys of the moment. Nigo will be involved in the design of future shops, ‘strategic product categories’ and the development of marketing campaigns, according to the company, which hopes to best embody Japanese culture and lifestyle. It is worth noting that, contrary to all expectations, he will not be asked to design clothes and accessories… which makes the initiative all the more original.

Some will be quick to point out that Japan is a country like no other, and that the attention paid to detail on a daily basis is far from anecdotal. They will be right. Others will see in this unprecedented convergence the ultimate confirmation, if one were needed, of the disappearance of frontiers between categories and, more particularly, the sign of a ‘fashionisation’ of all markets that is helping to establish self-affirmation as the main expectation associated with consumption.

The future often appears in the form of oddities, through offers designed for Gen Z, the generation born on social media who have mastered aesthetic codes like never before, and who are naturally set to become tomorrow’s mainstream population. So why should we be surprised to see fashion designers moving closer to the mass retail sector?

Of course, price will continue to dominate decision-making, and retailers will not give up their role as cost-killers, but why not consider, here and there, a few alternative supermarket models, based on the idea of a price-style or price-experience ratio, which would break with fifty years of rationality fuelled by price wars and the proliferation of promotions to better serve the immutable price-quality ratio?

Everywhere there is a desire (which could quickly turn into a need) for a more emotional relationship with the world – why should retail be exempt from this?

Whether it is placed in the middle of the table at family Sunday roast, or judged by the way it has been reared – on hormones or grain, in battery cages or in the open – the chicken has always been more of a symbol than an animal.

A symbol of junk food (in the era of The Wing or the Thigh) that has become, over the years, that of a ‘father and son’ farming tradition. And now, thanks to its carbon footprint that is four times smaller than that of beef, it has even become a spokesperson for environmental awareness. Tell me about chicken and I will tell you what period you live in. So what can we say about the current success of fried chicken, the big winner on everything from street food to the Fooding restaurant scene?

That the love for chicken is not waning (and too bad if it is less often of French origin) and that, to achieve this, it has been able to constantly reinvent itself. The recipe for longevity sought by all brands: always being there, but never the same. Whether in US mode, fried and paired with a sauce that will take your taste buds all the way to Louisiana, or in Asian mode, seducing fans of manga, K-pop and Korean skincare, chicken is still going strong. It is just as capable of appealing to youngsters, under the banners of KFC (nearly 400 restaurants), Popeyes (around thirty openings a year) or Out Fry (Korean Fried Chicken, part of the Taster group dedicated to delivery) as it is to their parents, when it is served on a plate laid out on a white tablecloth, like at Michelin-starred chef Mory Sacko’s restaurant… One foot in tradition, the other in novelty: the only way to innovate.

Agile, creative and inclusive, chicken ticks all the boxes of modernity, following in the footsteps of pizzas, burgers, kebabs and even doughnuts, from the ‘trash food’ finger food category, to the new ‘trash good’ with no regard for the balanced diet injunctions that haunt today’s self-righteous discourse. Fried chicken beautifully marinated in Cajun spices and bathed in a variety of sauces – what could be more appealing in a world that wants to have everything under control?

Orthorexics can always make do with eating protein-rich chicken breasts before heading to the gym to pump up their muscles.

Reading the latest brand news can be dizzying. This is how we learn that the famous scooter manufacturer Vespa now has a range of lifestyle clothing and accessories (not limited to a pair of gloves and a neck warmer…), that the hotel Le Bristol recently launched its first ready-to-wear collection (T-shirts, jumpers and pyjamas, as well as hats…), called Bristol Society and adorned with its coat of arms in ‘sublime materials’, and that, to mark the opening of its nail bar, the Ritz is offering a nail varnish designed with Kure Bazaar called Ritzy, a red colour ‘at the intersection of black and bright reds, enhanced by blue pigments, the emblematic colour of the Parisian palace founded in 1898’.

Meanwhile, Club Med published a cookbook of 70 recipes created by its chefs, and last weekend in the Marais district of Paris (of course), Lancôme created a (very) temporary immersive pop-up dedicated to its new Idôle range, where, between make-up sessions, you could nibble on pink popcorn and refresh yourself with cans of the brand’s signature colour. It’s an understatement to say that, at the moment, brands seem to be less concerned with their DNA and territory of origin than they were in the past.

Better still, they are doing everything they can to get out of it. As if a new way to exist in one’s market had become to go ‘elsewhere’. Not necessarily to establish themselves there; just to show themselves, prove that they can be there and, in the process, attract attention and get people talking about them in a different way. As if ‘being yourself’ now meant ‘appearing like someone else’. A conviction that extends far beyond the world of consumerism…

Hence the current appeal of lifestyle, the destination of every brand’s dream. As soon as they set foot there, they are shrouded in the casual aura they were looking for to appear cool, the ultimate Grail. Relaxed luxury here, ‘hospitality experience’ there, everything seems easier and even more fun in the world of lifestyle.

For brands, it is no longer just a question of thinking in terms of collabs or partnerships (seen before, too many times) but of extending their territory towards a lifestyle positioning in order to regenerate themselves and offer new narratives capable of making a difference and nurturing the sense of belonging of their customers, who are convinced that they are what they consume. Who would hesitate?

To understand the psychological state of a country, it is not always necessary to directly talk to its inhabitants – sometimes it is enough to look at what they reach for when they go shopping.

A short while ago, we reported here on the success of plush toys with what is usually described as an adult audience. Now the press has revealed the success of outdoor slippers – neo-slippers that are particularly popular with those who are never behind a trend. Made from hide, rounded, padded or even furry, the outer slipper wears its comfort and softness ostentatiously and now completes an urban look made up of joggers, leggings and a beanie to avoid having to do your hair.

Some will see this as a final effect of the pandemic, a chance to reclaim oneself and one’s home, when it was suddenly possible to no longer make the effort of getting dressed. The first shy excursions in slippers were at the foot of buildings to pick up a Deliveroo bag. Soon, it seemed feasible to keep them on to ‘walk’ the dog and go to the corner shop, as all this was done in lockdown and teleworking mode… As habits quickly take hold, why not stay in slippers all day long? Giving up comfort is not easy.

The easily identifiable UGGs led the way, followed by a whole host of cosy replicas which, thanks to their wide price range, were bound to be a big hit. Lightweight, warm and comfortable, they have become symbols of cocooning 2.0, a world away from the checkered slipper. At the same time, we learned of the great comeback of the hot water bottle, which is now being used as a low-tech form of heating, endorsed by a clear environmental conscience. Especially if it is dry: filled with chickpeas or cherry stones…

If we add the fact that our beautiful country is Europe’s leading market for board games (with annual growth of 4%) and that sales of puzzles for adults rose by 18% in 2024, we have a possible portrait of today’s France. A France where the ever-growing SHC (Slipper-Home-Comfort) figure can become the new GDP…

Even if it is not always the convivial moment imagined by Ricoré and dreamed of by all the morning food brands, breakfast still has an excellent image in France. 80% of French people eat breakfast regularly, often with products such as bread, cereals or dairy. A country’s identity is also shaped by its eating habits.

What’s new is that people are increasingly having breakfast outside their homes, in one of the (very) many coffee-shops… if not while walking, the ultimate sign of urban modernity… Coffee-to-go is thus trying to infiltrate our habits, taking the little black coffee further and further away from the zinc counter where it was born and with which it was thought to be associated forever. “Signature lattes” and other “flat whites” to take away, accompanied by a slice of cake, have appeared on all menus, including the most Michelin-starred, proving that globalisation is first and foremost about standardising tastes and habits.

Faced with the rise of these new practices, bakeries were quick to see takeaway coffee as the perfect growth driver to boost their pastry sales. Breakfast has become a strategic area with great potential, as the acceleration of modern lifestyles and the quest for simplicity generate a search for small pleasures on a daily basis.

Breakfast offers access to restaurants at an affordable price, benefits from a healthy image – as long as you forgo the pastries and opt for a savoury egg-avocado-salmon option – and represents a moment of unconventional conviviality, like a shorter, lighter version of the weekend brunch. It can also accommodate all the latest novelties: hybrid croissants of all kinds, coffees with a host of toppings and flavours, and drinks with constantly renewed promises. Therein lies its appeal, a far cry from buttered toast and white ceramic coffee cups. When will we see a breakfast inspired by other places, of Oriental or Asian inspiration?

There was a time when breakfast seemed to belong only to industrial cereal manufacturers. Soon, it will appear on restaurant menus as a ‘gourmet snack’ or a ‘reinterpreted board’. Our age loves nothing more than to invent new rituals.

The faster the world seems to move, the more everyone feels the need to slow down the game. The ‘slow’ or ‘pause’ option. Similarly, the more sophisticated a market becomes, in terms of both its promises and its offerings, the more there may be a desire for ‘normality’. Normality as a pause in the concept race. But what is ‘normal’ in a space where everything is watched, commented on, analysed and staged? Can anyone still claim to be ‘normal’?

As proof, the word seems so unassuming that it was quickly renamed normcore, in order to give it the appeal needed for style agencies and the fashion press to take notice. The result: everyone is relieved. Those who had no interest in fashion or interior design suddenly feel part of the modern, even trendy, game. And all those who saw themselves as ‘early adopters’, throwing their lot in with dubious aesthetics, feel emboldened in their daring. The worst is yet to come.

And so it is that, after having been reviled and associated with an unforgivable lapse in taste, white socks and football fans’ scarves are back at the top of the pile, provided that the latter is worn like in the old world, on the head like a country woman’s kerchief. White socks, on the other hand, remain (for the time being) on your feet, as long as you do not try to hide them.

As a result of the normcore wave, it is becoming increasingly difficult to tell the difference between ‘good taste’ and ‘bad taste’, or between a history-geography teacher who looks like he is always about to go hiking and a trendy urbanite equipped with the same ‘technical’ attributes in water-repellent gore-tex or heat-regulating techwear. Only the receipts can tell the difference. Decathlon, Vieux Camper or Arc’Teryx?

A sub-family of ‘normcore’, ‘gorpcore’ (from ‘good old raisin and peanuts’, a hiker’s snack consisting of mixed fruits and nuts) captures the technical, streamlined aesthetic of mountain sports, and is now particularly fashionable, much to the delight of outwear brands. This is undoubtedly a diffuse effect of Covid, between the desire to show off one’s shape, the urge for wide open spaces and a penchant for stylish performance. Every office worker is now a potential adventurer. Especially if they travel by bike.