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.

When temperatures rise, ice cream becomes the object of everyone’s desire – for consumers and brands alike. As a result, during this sweltering summer, creativity in the world of ice cream has reached new heights.

Just as we were starting to get used to the clash of unlikely flavours, with olive oil, yuzu and matcha leading the way, but also gherkins, onions, oysters, Camembert, hay, shiso, Espelette chilli, aromatic herbs and even croissants at The French Bastards, a new ice age is dawning on our taste buds: that of ‘fashion ice cream’. Fashion logic taken right down to ice cream cones, somewhere between collaborations and concepts. Inevitably Instagrammable. It was bound to happen.

This summer, at Amorino, customers could try two summer fruit sorbets – low in sugar, vegan and gluten-free – created in collaboration with Benefit Cosmetics; whilst at La Samaritaine, Maison Aleph offered an orange blossom, rose and vanilla ice cream, inspired by the new Henry Jacques fragrance. Quite the idea. At Pierre Hermé, signature ice creams and pastries came together to offer new sensations that were both familiar and original, whilst at Vuitton, the brand’s signature motifs were reimagined as LV-monogrammed shortcrust cones and a chocolate reinterpretation of its flower mascot as a topping – All done with the utmost discretion. Enough to turn every ice cream into a fashion accessory.

The product has become a symbol and, as such, a source of immediate added value. This change in status is by no means coincidental. Gone are the days of ice creams that merely refresh; make way for ‘enhanced ice creams’, which also promise to amaze, create a buzz and flatter the ego by giving the feeling of gaining access to a world of exclusivity.

This new generation of ice creams – more expensive and more creative – perfectly embodies those little affordable luxuries, both beautiful and delicious, sought after by today’s consumers, who have become budget-conscious but are determined not to sacrifice their enjoyment. Desire never dies. The desire to buy can outweigh purchasing power in times of crisis, provided that products manage to combine surprising affordability with a status symbol, thereby keeping the reality of the price at bay in favour of perceived emotional value. One need only look at the success of €8 lattes and €10 individual pastries to be fully convinced….

Between soaring fuel prices – and consequently the cost of airfares – the financial pressures currently facing households, and rising temperatures, it is an understatement to say that the tourism industry is in the midst of a major transformation. Two emerging trends are already worth noting. Both have Anglo-Saxon-sounding names, which helps to give them greater prominence in French-speaking countries.

The first is called ‘Coolcation’ (a portmanteau of ‘Cool’ and ‘Vacation’). It refers to a new trend towards temperate destinations, driven as much by the desire to escape the heatwave (and thus the crowded beaches and inaccessible outdoor cafés) as by the idea of spending time in an unspoilt environment. This is reflected in a surge of interest in regions that, until now, were not regarded as genuine holiday destinations: Normandy, the Channel Coast, the Alabaster Coast, the Vosges and the Massif Central, which are now becoming viable holiday destinations thanks to their milder temperatures and unspoilt natural surroundings. Or take Sweden, for that matter, as the press reports that bookings for trips to that country from France have risen by more than 50 per cent in 2025. Temperature is a key factor in this choice. There was a time when going on holiday meant ‘heading down south’…

The second trend is called ‘Lux-scaping’. It involves treating oneself to just one night (usually at the end of one’s holiday), a meal or even a brief experience (a spa treatment, a cocktail, afternoon tea) at a prestigious hotel. A taste of luxury. A unique experience capable of creating lasting memories, providing content for social media and, by extension, a boost to one’s ego. It mainly appeals to younger consumers (inevitably), who tend to be more at ease with luxury establishments. According to a study conducted by Marriott International, 46 per cent of French people say they have already tried Lux-scaping, a figure that rises to 69 per cent among those under thirty.

Do these two phenomena – which are still marginal – not ultimately reflect the same longing for somewhere else? A reassuring and soothing ‘elsewhere’ in one case, a disruptive and exceptional ‘elsewhere’ in the other. To escape, even for a brief moment, from what others are going through, to give oneself the feeling of having taken back control of one’s life and thus asserted oneself. As a way of reminding oneself that life is as much about how we feel as it is about reality.

Following the difficulties faced by some food courts, dark clouds are now beginning to gather over the world of pop-up stores. These are two symbols of the retail revival. In recent years, pop-up shops have proliferated so much in certain neighbourhoods – and particularly during the various Fashion Weeks (of which there are more and more…) – that it is hardly surprising to learn they are now causing some backlash. Are they on the verge of becoming the Airbnbs of the retail world?

In Paris, residents of Rue Nazareth have already voiced their dissatisfaction at the growing number of pop-up shops, which they accuse of contributing to the decline of traditional high-street shops and causing noise due to the various events organised there. Events which are, in fact, the very reason these spaces are rented in the first place… For small brands that have emerged on social media, these short-term rental shops serve not so much to generate sales as to generate buzz and secure visibility online. It is a model designed to foster an emotional sense of community rather than a business model driven by profitability. The result: DJ sets, live music, queues, beer kegs, deckchairs in car parks and, sometimes, at the end of the event, piles of rubbish. Enough to fuel resentment.

This anecdote is revealing of the transformation of cities as much as it is of the transformation of commerce. The commerce of tomorrow will (also) take the form of a succession of temporary activities in the same location, depending on the seasons and current events. The long term will be the sum of short-term periods. Entire, clearly defined neighbourhoods will be primarily aimed at visitors, just as certain Parisian shops, restaurants and cafés already are, thereby contributing to a standardisation of offers and aesthetics. As if a part of the city were being privatised, removed from the public interest. As for the pavements, traditionally reserved for café and restaurant terraces, they will become highly coveted spaces – potential sources of conflict – viewed as outdoor extensions by all coffee shops, pop-up stores and even, now, bakeries.

The city of tomorrow is taking shape before our very eyes, driven by transience rather than permanence, selectivity rather than inclusivity, and the idealisation of moments spent on a terrace.

Having first set foot in the interior design sector, then in the hotel and catering industries, the luxury sector is now turning its attention, like an ogre, to the world of wellness—the final frontier to be conquered. Following in the footsteps of Dior and Burberry, it is now Balenciaga’s turn to enter this promising market with a stylish and high-performance TechWear range and a unique, limited-edition food offering, created in collaboration with a renowned global fitness studio.

Here, the names and design of the products (branded Balenciaga Bodies) have been carefully crafted: the smoothies are called Main Character, with marine collagen; Momentum, with peanut butter enriched with cordyceps (a super-mushroom); and Back to Life, with mango and matcha infused with ashwagandha (an Indian adaptogenic plant); and the fresh juices, the detoxifying ‘Green Flag’, the antioxidant ‘Red Alert’ or ‘Glow with the Flow’, rich in vitamin C. All of these can be enhanced with boosters such as vitamin-enriched oil, protein or creatine.

Whilst Balenciaga’s proposal may well seem far-fetched to many, it can also be seen as confirmation of the renewed ambition of a luxury sector that is struggling and seeking new sources of growth. As a marker of social status, wellness perfectly meets the current expectations of its customers, who are driven more by the prospect of an experience than by that of ownership.

It also embodies an elitist lifestyle that is in every respect comparable to that promised by luxury, but one that is more focused on self-transformation and optimising one’s body and health, which makes it more acceptable than the display of wealth.

Ultimately, it enables luxury brands to continue generating desire through bold design (from clothing to drinks) and highly appealing functional promises that the ‘happy few’ will see as essential to their lifestyle.

Finally, let us not overlook the competitive aspect of luxury—one that is all too rarely taken into account—which is taking on a new dimension here, as it is no longer so much a question, for luxury buyers, of owning items that are ever more expensive than those of others, but rather of living better and longer than them. Taking part in sport (i.e. running, yoga, Pilates or fitness) is no longer just about strengthening the present; it is also about preparing for the future. This is a new narrative from which many brands could benefit.

A few years ago, in the So-Pi area of Paris, we discovered the first little stall (barely a room in size) serving smash burgers—the ultimate oddity that only foodies know how to pull off. To offer a fresh take on something everyone thinks they know, sometimes all it takes is to change its appearance. Not the recipe, just the presentation and the way the main ingredient is cooked. A lesson to remember.

The smash burger was thus first presented as a burger that had been flattened using a press on a sizzling griddle. This was a way of maximising the volume of meat from a limited quantity, enabling faster cooking and, above all, creating an instantly recognisable caramelised outer crust. Crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside: a whole new taste experience. And a new texture also means new seasonings and, by extension, new ways of eating it. This provided the perfect basis for accessible storytelling, allowing foodies to showcase themselves easily.

Is it any wonder, then, that we’re now seeing a proliferation of smash burgers in all major cities? Dumbo and Junk have made them their speciality, Five Guys offers them, but McDonald’s doesn’t yet. Their success has certainly inspired other sectors, as we can now find smash cookies, smash croque-monsieurs and even smash croissants topped with burrata, thanks to the boundless inventiveness of enthusiastic TikTokers.

This smash hit is no fluke. First and foremost, it reminds us that a product is not just about its shape and recipe. It’s also about a gesture and a texture. These are two ways of changing an established relationship, reigniting waning interest and strengthening customer loyalty. Especially when it comes to a simple gesture that anyone can easily replicate.

This success also highlights the importance of a well-chosen word. ‘Smash’ sounds far better than ‘écrasé’ (crushed), even though the latter had its moment in the spotlight when it helped to breathe new life into mashed potato… ‘Smash’ has a crisp, snappy ring to it; it’s a word associated with a gesture and a sound that conjure up the speed of tennis. A symbol of modernity and power aimed at Gen Z, for whom the burger is as old as their parents – if not their grandparents. What product will be ‘smashed’ next?