On paper, food courts ticked all the boxes. They promised conviviality around shared tables, the discovery of quality products from small producers, and all kinds of entertainment… Exactly what Millennials looking for places to hang out, families with children, and hipsters, who are as attracted as they are impressed by new urban experiences, are (or will be) looking for today. The fantasy of living together, fuelled by the prospect of an El Dorado for ghost town city centres, deserted historic market halls and run-down shopping centres.

Today, food courts are closing one after another: Rouen Food Hall, Lille Grand Scène, Lyon Part-Dieu, Paris-Montparnasse… What is the problem? Admittedly, inflation and the gloomy economic climate have played a part, and perhaps the entertainment on offer was not compelling enough to compete with television series and social media. The venues were undoubtedly sometimes too selective, and the dishes did not always live up to their price.

Some will even point out that all these food courts are enclosed spaces, whereas the image of conviviality is sunny, fuelled by the emotional and social virtues of outdoor terraces. Others will point out that food is no longer so central (prices, dietary restrictions, the weight of habit) and that real motivation now lies more in aperitifs, which are inclusive and bring people together, for which there are already plenty of places in town.

Could the future of food courts lie in responding to this demand by becoming ‘drink courts’, a new format combining super cafés and small performance venues? These would be spacious, accessible venues designed to welcome groups and communities, offering a wide variety of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks and a limited food selection. In line with the XXL neo-beer and wine cellars that are proving popular in the suburbs, but with a regular programme of events (concerts, DJ sets, IRL meetings for influencers, comedy clubs).

The most critical minds among us may also see the difficulties faced by food courts as an act of resistance on the part of consumers who are tired of places and occasions where everything has been designed for them and not by them. These are places designed by developers, not residents. Like those coworking spaces or hotels that are so perfect that they no longer allow for any sense of ownership and no longer inspire wonder. Yet these are the two conditions for true conviviality.

When experts are asked to imagine the retail environment of tomorrow, some envision it as a place of experiences and novelty, somewhere between an art gallery and a showroom, while others see it as entirely devoted to new technologies, open 24 hours a day and equipped with every conceivable chip, camera and barcode to make it appear autonomous. The CES in Las Vegas is often the birthplace of these visions. On the one hand, there is the emotional aspect; on the other, the technological aspect. And in both cases, humans are given a fairly limited role, reduced to a mere presence, devoid of any relational role.

But it is also possible to imagine the future by paying attention to the present. This year, Action, Leroy-Merlin and Decathlon are among the top three favourite brands in France. Picard, Leclerc, Ikea and Grand Frais are not far behind. Action’s rise (absent from the rankings in 2019, 9th in 2020, 7th in 2021, 3rd in 2022 and in first place since 2023) in a tense economic climate cannot be ignored. Could the keys to its success also be the keys to the future of commerce?

Limited assortments, constant renewal, original offers, surprises with every visit: these are the conditions for turning every visit into a purchase. What if not knowing what you’re going to find in a shop became the key insight for tomorrow’s retail industry? This is the polar opposite of the image of a rational consumer who plans their shop visits and the techno-predictive ideology based on data control…

We could also mention the good health of the bakery industry, which is whetting the appetite of investors of all kinds at a time when the retail sector as a whole is undergoing a serious crisis. With a multitude of formats and locations, and a diverse range of products and concepts, bakeries are multi-purpose, offering many reasons to visit. With its appealing smells, flavours and colours, it is a place of pure sensory indulgence, accessible to all and, without doubt, the last remaining retail outlet to promote social diversity. You can have a coffee, breakfast or lunch there whenever you want, as its opening hours are as flexible as its prices. Better still, you don’t always know in advance what you’re going to buy, as the decision is made when you see what’s on offer. 

Bakeries are not so far removed from Action, all things considered…

Between post-holiday detoxes, Dry January and Veganuary, January isn’t just the month for New Year’s resolutions, it’s also an opportunity to try foods that you wouldn’t dare put on your plate the rest of the year.

After sugar-free pastries, gluten-free bread and alcohol-free wine, why not plant-based cheese, the latest chapter in our country’s gradual food transformation? Camembert made without animal milk is starting to make a name for itself and is sought after by those who have decided to stop eating cheese for ethical, environmental or health reasons. According to experts, the plant-based cheese sector is set to experience strong growth and is already being divided into fermented, unfermented and matured categories. Artisanal, French and organic brands are now available on the market (Violife, Jay & Joy, etc.), and books on how to make these cheeses yourself from almond, cashew or soya milk have appeared on bookshop shelves. Will vegan raclette be the ‘hit dish’ of 2028?

Rather than a desire for conversion, which is undoubtedly too radical, these good resolutions for the new year (September and January being peak times for ‘personal resets’) reveal above all a desire to experiment, to discover, to take a break from our habits by venturing into new territories with the prospect of self-transformation and, perhaps, succeeding in becoming someone else. Who knows? A counterintuitive sign of consumer vitality in these gloomy times.

They also confirm the importance of rituals in consumers’ lives. Rituals enrich every action, whether it be beliefs, meditation, sports or consumption. They make time appear, enrich it, structure it, and encourage awareness and attention to actions. They create a unique psychological moment that fosters attachment, which all brands could leverage to renew their narratives.

In the world of cosmetics, this ritual is called a routine and has been quickly adopted by younger generations, who see it as a welcome respite from the incessant flow of social media. In the world of food, breakfast is the main ritual, helping us get the day off to a good start. Why should it be limited to this one moment?

At the end of last year, McDonald’s launched a unique and highly clever campaign called Happy Doggy, offering four exclusive toys for man’s best friend. Each toy was inspired by one of the brand’s star recipes: the Chauss’Pom, the Fly’Bun, the Sundae’Ball and the Fun’Fries. Those who are familiar with the brand will recognise them. Given that one in three French people own a dog, it is easy to deduce that McDonald’s saw a large number of ‘dog parents’ walk through its doors.

A restaurant chain that appeals to animals through toys is unusual enough, but when the design of these toys is inspired by its menu, one can only applaud the uncensored nature of such inspired brainstorming. It’s a way for the chain to ensure its playful image remains in people’s minds on a daily basis. Soft power in action.

Between town centre pet shops (Animalis, Moustaches, Maxi Zoo, etc.), pet-related products (anthropomorphic food, clothing, accessories, perfumes, etc.), and dog-friendly hotels and restaurants, it is no exaggeration to describe the pet market as a highly lucrative niche. Given that the birth rate is falling, there are openings to be filled…

With the campaign devised by McDonald’s, a new brand logic is taking shape. This is not just another predictable collaboration (coffee shops with logos, opportunistic clothing lines, pseudo-arty pop-ups) designed to appeal to a specific community, but a real step off the beaten path for a brand: a fleeting appearance in an unexpected arena with the sole intention of surprising, entertaining and proving its vitality. Another way to foster a sense of complicity with its buyers.

At the end of November, Maison Kayser offered a baguette to owners of R 5 E-Tech cars to highlight its baguette holder installed on the dashboard. Recently, Make Up For Ever showcased its makeup colours through signature drinks at one of Paris’ Nuances coffee shops, and the Hoxton Hotel offered an exclusive cookie developed with the Pepite Cookie brand. Most recently, Dop launched a range of shower gels inspired by Oasis’s favourite flavours: Apple Blackcurrant Raspberry, Apple Pear and Tropical… All of these fleeting brand appearances herald a bright future for light-hearted, but not so trivial, marketing campaigns.

While the theme of festive dining traditionally features prominently in end-of-year magazines, it would be inaccurate to say that it always returns in the same way, unlike the best nursing homes ranking. This recurring theme is also a reflection of our times.

Since the menu for these tables seemed set in stone for eternity (oysters, foie gras, capon, Yule log), articles dedicated to them have long focused on their decoration. Can we dare to use mismatched plates on Christmas Eve? And why not a monochrome table? More recently, the focus has shifted to the contents of the plates, with veganism and new food trends taking centre stage, with the aim of helping to maintain family unity around the table. The festive menu is now torn between respect for tradition and the desire to keep up with the times. What can replace meat in a Christmas menu? Would it be acceptable to cook only vegetables on this occasion?

All these challenges to tradition and potential sources of conflict would only grow, given that today everything can be instantly called into question. So it’s no surprise that this year, in the press and on Instagram, the figure of the reactionary uncle has emerged as the catalyst for tension around the dinner table. This role was traditionally attributed to the grandfather, whose missteps were readily forgiven due to his advanced age, but he has been rejuvenated, proof that conservative ideas have spread to a new generation. Something to keep in mind.

To prevent family gatherings from turning into confrontations, recommendations reminiscent of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs abound: avoid controversial topics, do not respond to provocations, anticipate disagreements, know how to change the subject quickly, and if necessary, do not hesitate to leave the table under the pretext of fetching something from the kitchen. Once a place for aesthetics and gastronomy, the festive table has now become a source of controversy. An almost natural evolution in these digital times.

So many precautions before a family tradition—worrisome as to our ability to live together—confirm that the family meal is undoubtedly the last place where everyone can still experience otherness and contradiction, engulfed by social media dominated by cliques and converging points of view. An observation that some may find regrettable, as the clash of ideas can prove constructive.

Created by Intermarché, the story of a wolf who wants to become someone else, set to a tune by Claude François that we thought limited to karaoke, recently captured the attention of the entire planet. Quite unusual for what is merely an advert. Such media hype can be taken as a form of admiration, justified by the quality of the execution, which conveys an emotional accuracy that is difficult to resist. It can also be seen as a cry of relief: AI will not triumph anytime soon, and brands that think they can do without human talent may regret it.

While Intermarché’s images were praised, those produced by McDonald’s and Coca-Cola, created using AI, were immediately condemned. Using AI is like being caught at the Shein checkout on the fifth floor of the BHV department store. Thanks to its wolf, Intermarché reinforces the strength of its mission, as it is capable of adapting to everything from mini romantic comedies to social films and cartoons, without ever growing tiresome.

We all have good reasons to start eating better. For our own good and for the collective good, just as a wolf that gives up meat can change the atmosphere in the forest. This message is more unexpected than those constantly reminding us who is the cheapest. And it is more concrete than all the brand slogans full of words ending in ‘-or’: creator, initiator, activator, generator, accelerator…

Intermarché is also responding in an unprecedented way to today’s expectations for meaning. Like all manufactured products, images also derive their meaning from how they are produced: at a slow pace (eighteen months) and by a French studio run by representatives of Gen Z. A highly virtuous ‘Made in France’.

The success of this advert finally reminds us of the power of emotions in advertising, particularly regressive emotions that reveal a desire to feel protected. This is a lesson for all brands that favour supposedly informative rational arguments, interjections intended to create complicity, or celebrities, for lack of arguments. This year, even Cartier has abandoned them in favour of mischievous little panthers that look like stuffed toys.

While celebrities may inspire identification, animals always provoke emotions. And, in the end, it is the brand that wins.

What brand today doesn’t want to show itself in a new light by setting foot in markets it never imagined it could enter? While collaborations have become so commonplace that they struggle to attract attention, brands’ growing attempts to venture outside their home territory could well represent a new form of expansion.

For them, it is not a matter of finding new growth opportunities, but rather of surprising their regular customers and creating buzz by demonstrating their ability to reinvent themselves without losing momentum. While collaborations embody shared values and expertise, cross-sector extensions allow brands to showcase their ability to achieve the coveted status of ‘lifestyle’ brands. This is a response to consumers’ desire to express their identity through their purchases.

This temptation naturally affects luxury brands first and foremost, as their strong image allows them to be considered in every possible aspect of daily life. After investing heavily in the (highly profitable) eyewear and cosmetics sectors, they are now turning their attention to hotels, restaurants (Dior, Vuitton) and even food: in California, the fashion brand Von Dutch is already developing immersive coffee shops with its own range of spirits, soft drinks and coffees.

Meanwhile, hospitality companies are showing an interest in fashion, with the Ritz now offering a line of cashmere clothing and chic sports accessories. Luxury car manufacturers are no exception. Bentley is investing in real estate projects bearing its name, while Porsche is targeting everyday life through its recent partnership with Italian appliance manufacturer Smeg to offer a retro-style refrigerator with a handle identical to that of an old 911, as well as a coffee machine, toaster, kettle and blender in its iconic colour palette.

To think that there was a time when marketing experts only talked about DNA when it came to expanding territory… DNA is something that brands need to break free from as quickly as possible if they don’t want to find themselves trapped and ultimately die from an inability to create surprise. Time for disruption, shifting and amazement.

Not long ago, in the heart of the Haut-Marais (where else?), the beauty brand Make Up For Ever teamed up with the mini chain of Instagrammable coffee shops Café Nuances to offer a unique event over a long weekend at its fifth location in the capital. In this neighbourhood, as in all those that attract overtourism, coffee shops are so numerous that they have outnumbered the traditional bars that have contributed to the capital’s image. A side effect of globalisation.

Never far from each other, sometimes directly opposite one another, coffee shops engage in fierce competition using similar tactics, which is not that common. Not all of them will emerge unscathed. To meet the need to attract attention, entertainment takes on a strategic role. The aim here is to convey the idea that coffee shops are not simply places to consume but opportunities to meet and interact. This is an added emotional value that goes beyond their aesthetics.

The event organised by Make Up For Ever at Café Nuances is, from this point of view, entirely relevant. It is an experience that is both indulgent and visual, providing the brand with an opportunity to showcase the caffeine-inspired shades of its iconic products, such as the Artist Colour Pencil lip liner, through exclusive ‘signature drinks’ with evocative names: Anywhere Caffeine, Wherever Walnut and Limitless Brown. Naming should never be overlooked in a social media campaign. Finally, the icing on the latte was that throughout the weekend, the first 50 visitors of the day were given a full-size Super Boost Lip Gloss. Hard to resist.

Feminine, young, connected, narcissistic… and enthusiastic, coffee shop customers are a dream for all brands. Provided they satisfy their appetite for exclusivity and uniqueness. Limited-time promotions to encourage people to visit, rewards for the most motivated to create competition, and stories specific to each point of sale to give value to each location: coffee shops are reinventing retail networks.

Yesterday it was based on repeating codes to establish a universe, tomorrow it could be defined by difference to promote the local environment. ‘One shop, one story’ rather than ‘One story, many shops’.

The Fooding guide is celebrating its 25th anniversary. How time flies! Tomorrow’s historians will say that in France, there was a before and after Fooding. Before, there were Le Guide Vert and Michelin guide, and culinary television programmes hosted by unique chefs chosen for their regional accents. With the Fooding guide, coolness triumphed. A concept that was still little known at the beginning of the century, it would become a lifestyle that even found its way onto our plates.

Coolness is the primacy of brotherly horizontality over paternal verticality, the revenge of the small local player over the international giant, the consecration of gesture and know-how in the face of industrialisation, intention as proof of sincerity. An ideal society made of humanity and kindness. Time for small plates, small producers and still wines.

The Fooding was initially a matter of vocabulary and grammar. New, invented words, rich in imagery and, above all, capable of rendering obsolete those we had known for too long. A way of demonstrating one’s difference. Dining in a bristroquet does not have the same flavour as dining in the local bistro. A natural or artisan wine does not tell the same story as a cépage.

It also marked an aesthetic break with tradition. Destructured, deconstructed, fusion dishes gradually became the norm. Graphic, airy, photogenic and then Instagrammable, they revolutionised presentation and expectations, allowing a generation to make its mark by pushing the boundaries.

The Fooding guide now counts many Boomers among its readers, raising the question of where the next generation of diners is. Faced with a restaurant sector that is struggling to remain attractive (high prices, fierce competition leading to standardisation of codes and offerings, ‘photocopied’ storytelling), the vitality of coffee shops, alcohol-free or low-alcohol wines and fermented drinks is striking.

Unprecedented shapes and colours, insider vocabulary, new ways of consuming, refined and renewed aesthetics, ethical discourse: promises of exclusivity that are reminiscent of the origins of the Fooding. Except that today, the movement is no longer in the hands of specialised journalists but passionate influencers who are not looking to do better, but differently. Proof that our relationship with food is primarily generational.

The evolution of commerce often drives the evolution of cities. Yesterday, city centres were deserted following the establishment of out-of-town shopping centres; today, fast food chains are multiplying in city centres, to the detriment of convenience stores. A third chapter is now being written: that of community shops frequented by the same type of consumers.

They may be tourists, from here or elsewhere, foodies and enthusiasts for a particular lifestyle, or influencers lost in the real world, searching for a physical home base. Some neighbourhoods are now characterised by an excessive presence of coffee shops, Instagrammable neo-bakeries, shop windows displaying signs in English (sorry we are closed), establishments offering breakfast all day long, cafés with facades covered in plastic flowers and fake Bouillons with carefully crafted storytelling. Conversely, certain long-established establishments may suddenly find themselves on the map of desirability (the ‘secret’ addresses), causing new tensions with residents whose habits are being disrupted.

Among the new figures in community-oriented urban commerce, we can also mention pop-up shops, always associated with the promise of unique experiences, shops that are merely storefronts for e-commerce sites, and stores that target only a wealthy international clientele, at home anywhere in the world but indifferent to local realities. Finally, let’s not forget ethical brands, which sell citizenship, and those entirely devoted to low prices, end-of-line items, drop sales, clearances, second-hand goods, knock-offs and fast fashion, which are becoming increasingly numerous and ultimately constitute a parallel world where everyone experiences the exhilarating feeling of having been smarter than everyone else.

A new snapshot of commerce is forming before our eyes and shaping our future. Some will see it as a sign of its vitality and its ability to constantly invent new codes and new fantasies, far from the uniformity of the flagship stores that futurologists had predicted. Others will regret the impenetrability of each of these forms, which leave little room for mixing, discovery and encounters, which are the very essence of commerce.