It was bound to happen: after years of immersion in the digital world, seen as a substitute for reality, numerous emerging signs now confirm a sudden appetite for ‘real life’ amongst the youngest generation. Life is a constant cycle.

The current popularity of book clubs and reading parties is the favourite example of all those who would like to see Gen Z read more than they appear to. Just like the Offline Club, founded in the Netherlands in 2022, whose aim is to offer its members activities that keep them away from their smartphones, or the resurgence of chess, played in chess clubs, and board games once considered old-fashioned, such as backgammon or jigsaw puzzles, as a counterpoint to escape rooms.

Walking clubs, running clubs and other urban and sporting activities designed for socialising are also recruiting members like never before, to the point where they are, in their own way, rivalling dating apps. On TikTok, ‘analogue bags’ containing things to keep you occupied without your smartphone (a sketchbook, a pack of cards, or even knitting) were all the rage this summer, proof that desire for the real world is very much present, at every turn. We could also mention the craze for ceramic cafés, the recent openings of stationery shops celebrating traditional craftsmanship (in Paris: Lignon 1895, Papier Royal, Papeterie Koya) and even initiatives by major record labels to organise listening sessions in intimate ‘listening bars’ to mark the online release of their albums.

There have never been so many ways to access reality. Some will see this as a desire to slow down, to step away from social media and the pressure of immediacy. A way of reclaiming the present moment and space through individual practices that are genuinely shared. An act of resistance. Others see it as delayed collateral damage from the pandemic, five years on. Proof of the lingering impact of that episode. In 2020, Gen Z were twenty years old. For them, the present had suddenly stretched out into infinity, space had shrunk and the usual boundaries between inside and outside had been abolished, making it difficult to look ahead. Is it any wonder that they are now seeking to hold on to time through slow, disconnected practices within protective, self-chosen communities?

Amidst the Gare du Nord station, which is crammed with fast-food outlets, a new establishment has just opened opposite platform 12, born out of a partnership between Cafés Richard and Bouillon Service. Café de quartier, as its name suggests, is aimed at a broad, working-class, everyday clientele who come and go through the station at all hours. Historically, every station had its own restaurant. The ‘Buffets de la gare’ and other ‘Buvettes’ were the places where anyone willing to wait would meet – whether to pass the time whilst waiting for someone, a train or simply to let the day go by. Since then, stations have evolved into giant food courts where each outlet offers its own speciality.

The launch of Café de quartier is, first and foremost, a welcome opportunity to reconnect with a diverse range of options at a single outlet. There’s enough to keep you going all day, from coffee and croissants to Dauphiné-style ravioli and sausages with mashed potato, not to mention eggs with mayonnaise, chocolate mousse or rice pudding – not to mention afternoon tea and aperitifs, which have become key times for the restaurant industry. Every product is a moment in itself.

Café de quartier also illustrates the versatility of ‘bouillon’. Originally based on the concept of popular, accessible and cross-generational cuisine, served quickly and enthusiastically in a bustling dining room, ‘bouillon’ has become synonymous with ‘good, fast and affordable for everyone’. A French-style fast-food concept, combined with the promise of an experience. This is exactly what everyone expects nowadays when they go to a restaurant whilst keeping a close eye on their wallet. It didn’t take much more than that for it to become a concept.

This has been achieved with Café de quartier, a fusion of two formats with powerful imagery capable of making desirable things that, elsewhere, would attract little interest (sausage and eggs, egg and mayonnaise, sausage and mashed potato, chocolate mousse). Takeaway food is becoming a takeaway experience. There’s no longer any need for a bar counter, a cosy dining room or attentive waiters; the dishes speak for themselves, as they are a visual language, the expression of skilfully crafted storytelling that brings people together. It would be a shame not to capitalise on this trend. Until 1 November, Picard is bringing together a selection of its great French culinary classics under the ‘façon Bouillon’ label, whilst on the Grands Boulevards, Ma! presents itself as an ‘Italian chic bouillon’ (?!). Bouillons have taken hold of this new era.

What’s a must-see at this year’s Paris Motor Show? The 2CV. Following in the footsteps of the Fiat 500 and the Renault 5, it’s Citroën’s turn to open its family album and pull out the model that sold over 5 million units over a period of more than 40 years. At a time when all the brands are wondering how to rekindle desire among their jaded customers and recreate on social media a sense of excitement all too rarely associated with consumerism, the answer is right there, at the Porte de Versailles.

The new 2 CV is, admittedly, just a concept car for the time being, but it has been designed as a fully marketable vehicle for 2028, if the manufacturer is to be believed. 100% electric and priced at under 15,000 euros. A reality, almost a dream. Nostalgia is, therefore, what it has always been: a driving force behind desire. For some, a desire to escape the banality of a dreary everyday life. For others, a desire to reconnect with happy memories. Who wouldn’t want to climb aboard this 2CV in its pop colours, an ode to optimism and eternal youth? Who wouldn’t want to escape for a moment from those sleek, mainstream-looking cars, all produced by the same artificially intelligent software?

There was a time when the 2000s embodied the future and sparked people’s imaginations. Since then, the future has self-destructed. Back to the past.

The appeal of the new 2CV lies first and foremost in all the memories it instantly evokes. Even amongst those who have never owned one but who recall their parents’ stories. It also lies in the aesthetic impact it makes. One foot in the reassuringly familiar – the recognition of something once known but now forgotten – and the other in wonder, the surprise of a shape rediscovered. To be amazed without losing one’s bearings. It also stems from its ability to spark exchanges and foster conversation. Design that fosters connection. The virtues of intergenerational bonding need no further elaboration here. Finally, the 2CV marks the triumph of simplicity over technical complexity, and of immediate practicality over the endless array of options that will never be used. The 2CV was not designed to change the world, but to serve our world. A lesson in humility.

Whilst we wait to drive an electric 2CV, we can always watch the latest Intermarché advert: a Sunday family meal with a Claude Sautet-style atmosphere, complete with roast meat for everyone, too many guests and dramatic arguments. The only thing missing is a 2CV behind the window.

Paris is no longer just the city of the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower. It is also the city of countless Fashion Weeks. Even though the fashion industry is currently facing a slowdown in consumer spending, its appeal remains undiminished. It is therefore no surprise that brands are tempted to capitalise on the emotional windfall that fashion shows represent – a blend of accessible fascination, collective excitement and the desire to ‘be part of it’.

On the 3rd and 4th of October, Rabanne (formerly Paco Rabanne) took over Café Nuances in the Marais – a coffee shop with a sophisticated, minimalist aesthetic – for the launch of its latest fragrance, One Million Black. A variety of DJ sets, a menu of food and drinks matching the fragrance’s colour scheme, along with the promise of special goodies tailored to the occasion, soon filled the venue to capacity.

A little further along, on the Champs-Élysées, Guerlain’s Maison de Beauté, situated on the first floor of its historic flagship store, hosted the Maurice Sfez Café (another famous coffee shop in the Marais) for a pop-up event in honour of its latest reinterpretation of one of its iconic fragrances: L’Heure Bleue. Two brand-new blue-coloured drinks had been created for the occasion: Bleu Céleste Matcha and L’Heure Bleue Smoothie with vanilla notes, designed to complement those of the fragrance.

For the two brands behind these initiatives, the approach stems from a shared desire to create a sense of wonder and a feeling of connection. In other words, to generate buzz. Coffee shops are the perfect testing ground for achieving this.

Their compact size, the near absence of furniture and the way they naturally extend onto the pavements are their key strengths. A promise of controlled costs. The distinctive aesthetic of both their interiors and their products stands as a mark of modernity. A guarantee of visibility on social media. Just as their strong sense of community ensures a consistency of values and shared interests.

As much as they are places, coffee shops are cultural symbols. Hence their tendency to move away from their original purpose as purveyors of speciality coffee and evolve – whilst remaining true to themselves – into venues for events and communication. These are essential platforms for them, considering that Paris now has nearly 1,500 coffee shops, sometimes right next to one another… And a valuable lesson for all businesses struggling to grow.

To get a sense of what the future of trade might look like, one doesn’t always need to travel to the other side of the world. Sometimes, all it takes is to look closely at what’s happening right on one’s doorstep.

On Rue Pastourelle, in the capital’s 3rd arrondissement, a queue regularly forms outside number 21. Here, however, there is no coffee shop or Instagram-worthy pop-up patisserie, but rather the SimpleRainbow shop, a brand of ballet flats from Shanghai (150 euros a pair) that enjoys a strong following on social media. ‘Sales outlet’ would actually be a more accurate description than ‘shop’, given the (very) small size of the premises, the lack of a shop window and any display – visitors enter through a simple door, and the ballet flats are stored on shelves in individual bags. Customers are let in a trickle at a time, hence the queue on the pavement…

A little further on, still in the Marais district – a veritable open-air laboratory for the retail of the future – on Rue de Saintonge, the cutting-edge brand Satisfy now comprises two shops facing each other: on one side of the street, its range of innovative running clothing and accessories, displayed amongst works of art and personal items chosen by the founder; on the other, a counter dedicated to pre- and post-workout drinks and products, designed in collaboration with a renowned nutritionist.

Finally, in the Galeries du Palais-Royal, everyone will have noticed the presence, since this summer, of an engraving workshop combined with a range of fine stationery (called Papier Royal) in a setting that is deceptively historical but meticulously recreated in the style of Buly. This comes as no surprise, given that this transhistorical concept was devised by the same artistic director. It is a way of capitalising on the resurgence of analogue technology, the ultimate mark of distinction in the face of digital overload.

Three shops, three concepts for the future. The Meeting Point shop, designed for communities of enthusiasts, combining an intimate and private atmosphere. The Wellness shop, where fashion and wellbeing come together to create a stylish, urban approach to sport. And the Heritage Revisited shop, which breaks with all the current trends yet offers a sense of reassurance by celebrating the craftsmanship of the past.

In all three cases, a small-scale shop, without any flashy displays, yet regarded as a destination with strong emotional appeal. A lesson for all brands that dream of having their own flagship store.

Humanists have long dreamt of a universal language enabling everyone on the planet to understand one another. Some see the long-awaited Esperanto in ‘Globish’, which is already well (too well?) established in our daily lives – a stripped-down, simplified form of English, stripped of its nuances, in favour of immediate understanding capable of evoking a sense of belonging to a worldwide modernity. Others might also wonder whether the true universal language is, ultimately, found as much on our plates as in our conversations. Or, more specifically, in our takeaway mugs, given the current proliferation of coffee shops in all the world’s major cities.

Coffee shops are not like other shops. They are as small as their selection is limited; you only socialise with those you know there, and you don’t expect to discover anything new. On the contrary, they are comforting spaces that offer a sense of familiarity in an unfamiliar environment.

Coffee shops are not simply places but territories with their own codes (a bench on the pavement, low stools, no high tables), their own aesthetic (polished concrete, aluminium, wood, marble, mirrors) and their own language. A specific vocabulary that only those who frequent them truly understand.

Whether they’re Korean, New Yorkers, Japanese or German, all coffee shop regulars are well versed in flat whites, avocado toast and banana bread, and each of them knows the different varieties of plant-based milks inside out, just as well as the various types of latte.

Luxury brands face a similar situation, with their collections launched simultaneously across the globe, viewed with envy by people all over the world, and their flagship stores promising experiences that are detached from any local reality. Here, the products serve as a universal language.

We could also mention those vintage clothes shops, which are never far from coffee shops, where logos act as bait and the easily accessible racks encourage ‘effortless’ purchases without any obligation to haggle. Transactions without any personal interaction.

Following on from the brands that have successfully developed their own language, understood only by their users (Apple, Tesla, Thermomix, Ikea), we now see those that are adopting a universal language aimed at people who want to feel at home wherever they are. A brand’s strength lies not only in its territory but also in its language.

We knew that shopping centres and large retail chains were popular meeting places for certain young folks who like to hang out there in groups. During this sweltering summer, we discovered that they could also become climate shelters for anyone living in homes with poor thermal insulation. Now TikTok is revealing the emergence of a new form of tourism: ‘grocery store tourism’, which involves making the most of a trip to another country by popping into its supermarkets to have your photo taken or be filmed in front of the shelves.

Some will see this as a sign that people are seeking authenticity and truth in the face of coffee shops that are so Instagram-worthy they’ve become indistinguishable from one another, flagship stores that have been copied to excess, and hidden gems that everyone knows about.

A stroll through a Korean mini-market or an Italian grocery shop can thus be seen as an experience in its own right, one that tells us as much about the imaginations and lifestyles of a country’s inhabitants as its history or geography. Others will point out that at a time when cultural attractions are becoming increasingly complex (bookings, queues, etc.) and expensive (rising ticket prices), hypermarkets and major retail chains can be seen as viable alternatives that are free, accessible and immersive.

Given that people have long been saying (and, at times, lamenting) that consumption has become a cultural phenomenon, it is hardly surprising that we now visit supermarkets as if they were museums.

This opens up new sales opportunities for retailers, such as showcasing their local producers (their history, their expertise, their sources of inspiration), paying close attention to the design of their products’ packaging to make them ‘Instagrammable’, or offering rare or new products to attract customers seeking exclusivity and content to share. Each product can attain the enviable status of a cultural artefact.

Whilst retail has always been built on choice and accessibility, it is now undergoing a transformation driven by the pairing of discovery and sharing: discovery as the driving force behind sharing for all those seeking to enhance their image on social media. This will enable retailers who know how to capitalise on this trend to set themselves apart and steer clear of the price war that will always drag them down… Consumer tourism has a bright future ahead of it.

To mark Céline Dion’s series of Paris concerts scheduled for this autumn, Pierre Hermé has created a limited-edition range of macarons, which was unveiled in a preview on the 3rd of September at Galeries Lafayette Paris Haussmann before being rolled out to his various shops around the world. It’s sure to delight all the singer’s fans. Smart move. Cultural events of all kinds can provide unique opportunities for brands to make their voice heard, thereby boosting their visibility and reaching new audiences.

For the occasion, the singer has selected eight products from the brand’s existing range – including Ispahan, Infiniment Caramel, Infiniment Framboise and Infiniment Praliné Pistache – linking them to her own tastes and personal memories. With one foot in the brand’s bestsellers and the other in Céline’s personal history, the narrative is set. More original than the usual exercise undertaken by brands, striking a balance between a respectful nod to their origins and an unreserved tribute to their craftsmanship. A birthday cake told through its candles.

Here, Pierre Hermé is not promoting his brand by creating his own event, but is instead becoming part of a major and eagerly anticipated cultural moment that already enjoys significant media and emotional impact. And the celebrity factor plays less of a part in the product’s design than in the story behind it. Pierre Hermé’s legacy remains intact but is temporarily being presented in a new light. This is a marketing strategy much favoured by the fashion world, where an ‘external guest’ is occasionally brought in to design a ‘capsule’ collection or reinterpret an iconic design in order to generate buzz on social media, thereby reigniting desirability and demonstrating that icons are not untouchable.

Little by little, the logic of fashion is permeating that of the food industry and conferring a new status upon it. Expensive in absolute terms but affordable in relative ones, the macarons endorsed by Céline Dion are, in every respect, comparable to the accessories and cosmetics ranges developed by luxury brands: a gateway to entering their world with one’s head held high? For, even if a macaron does not have the same ability to inspire dreams that a handbag or a pair of sunglasses can, its rarity and ‘collectability’ – showcased here in the context of a highly coveted event – go a long way towards enhancing its fantastical appeal. It serves as a reminder that a brand’s true added value is, first and foremost, emotional.

The figure of the tourist, now a familiar sight in every major city, needs no introduction. They are easily recognisable with their designer sunglasses, their smartphone constantly at the ready, and a sense of style that’s never quite right—either too much or too little.

In Paris, it began to emerge towards the end of the pandemic, a time of liberation for everyone and a consumerist comeback for some. It then gained momentum during the 2024 Olympic Games, eventually becoming a fixture in the daily life of certain Parisian neighbourhoods. Luxury shops promising unforgettable experiences, restaurants offering brunch at all hours or over-emphasising the traditions of classic brasseries, minimalist coffee shops and a host of immersive exhibitions all characterise the new trends in tourism.

Whilst cities quickly realised the need to adapt their offerings to these new expectations, brands were content for a long time simply to wait for tourists, convinced that their products alone were enough to attract them. Our regions certainly have got talent, but it would be a shame to rely solely on that. Time to get creative.

Picard thus masterfully paves the way for a marketing campaign that is as original as it is relevant – part patriotic, part tourist-oriented, and also a little kitsch. First with a range of blue, white and red macarons that conveniently appeared around the 14th of July, then with a chocolate mousse Eiffel Tower accompanied by a vanilla mousse Arc de Triomphe, both filled with a centre of red berries and a crunchy praline. Quite the idea! These symbolic and commemorative desserts are sure to appeal to all lovers of France—both abroad and, why not, here at home too. ‘Made in France’ is not the only way to champion French values.

On the fashion front, Etam has just launched a collection of clothing and accessories inspired by the colours of the iconic Parisian café Les Deux Magots. A chic yet relaxed wardrobe designed to ‘celebrate the Parisian art of living’. In the world of home décor, we can observe the success of all these candles—scented to evoke a Parisian park, square or neighbourhood (Diptyque, Kerzon, etc.); they are just as at home in our living rooms as they are in suitcases travelling the world.

We’ve been saying for ages that consumption should leave a lasting impression; now it has the potential to become a souvenir.

Whilst every crisis brings its share of good resolutions, which rarely last long, it also brings about lasting changes to some of our habits and upends our perceptions. What has stuck with us from the health crisis are not the noble decisions in favour of the climate—such as giving up flying or supporting local businesses—or helping those most in need, but rather the after-work drinks on terraces—to the extent that they have emptied restaurant dining rooms.

This sweltering summer has transformed our lives. Our everyday wardrobe has been expanded to include hand fans or portable fans, hats or parasols. Airing out our flats first thing in the morning has now become second nature, as has making sure to angle the fan away from our faces to avoid drying out our airways. Curtains, shade sails, awnings and shutters have become part of our daily thinking. Night markets are more appealing than ever, and all chefs keen to keep attracting customers have come up with cold menus. In Asian restaurants, cold noodles and cold ramen are all the rage. Adaptation is also happening on our plates.

In the city, every air-conditioned space has become an oasis for climate refugees, whether or not they live in energy-inefficient homes: a public library, a cinema, a shop, a shopping centre, or even a co-working space—and even the open-plan office we were so quick to leave behind in favour of video calls. A veritable ‘air-con surfing’ itinerary that can go as far as occupying every ‘social space’ conceived by the architects of modernity: a sofa, two armchairs, a water cooler and a pot plant have suddenly become highly coveted.

Following on from bakeries as community hubs—where people no longer just pop in to buy bread—and shops offering everything at rock-bottom prices where you pop in without a shopping list, it’s time for the shops you visit with absolutely no intention of buying anything. Just to cool off, kill some time or have a quick nap. We’ve been saying for ages that shops are not just places for transactions but for experiences—and here’s one we didn’t see coming.

It is now up to retailers to prepare for future heatwaves by coming up with innovative ideas that can fuel social media and attract passers-by. Behind each of them lies a potential customer who should not be left to sleep for too long.