C'EST NOUS IN PARIS

Paris smells like coffee and butter.  Like that first croissant you eat standing up before hopping on the bike and heading to the pop up. 
Every morning started like this: cold air, half-empty streets, and the feeling that everything was about to happen.

Maybe one of the reasons we love coming to Paris is because it doesn’t disrupt our routine.
 People who travel often will understand this, not every city makes it easy to keep the small habits that make you feel like yourself.
 Here, somehow, everything fits.  We like to start the day running, even if it sounds contradictory.
 We often say we’d like life to move slower, but we love to run.
 Maybe it’s that balance we’re always chasing: moving, observing, feeling like we’re part of the city’s rhythm instead of just passing through.

We’ve already been to Paris four times this year, and each trip had its own rhythm.
 The first was in February, for Irati’s birthday.  It was also the first time we came as a brand.
 Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence, starting here on a day that also marks a beginning.
 As if the city was celebrating us, too.

We came back in April.  Everything felt easier, more ours.
 We already knew how to move, when to slow down, which corners to take.
 We have that gift for romanticizing things: by the second time we visit, we already act like locals.
 We walk with our music on, greet the barista on the corner, and move around like we’ve lived here all our lives.

In July, I came alone.
 It was hot, the kind of heat that stays with you all day, and on the first morning, my phone broke.
 A small thing, but it felt big.  That device that, somehow, keeps us close even when we’re far.
 I spent the week without a camera, without messages, without being able to share anything.
 And it was strange, because so much of what we do lives through a screen. 
But that week I understood something: it’s not about the tool, it’s about what you manage to transmit.
 In the end, our work is about connection, about telling stories, about making the person on the other side feel part of what we do.
 And when it’s genuine, it always finds a way to reach people.

That week I shared the pop up with Alfonso from Boras.
 We shared long hours and short talks.
 Some people inspire effortlessly, and he’s one of them.

In October, we came back once more, right in the middle of Fashion Week. 
Between chaos and inspiration, Paris somehow stays calm.
 Everything is full, everything moves fast, and still, there’s beauty in every corner.
 After long days, the kind that blur together, we always found time for wine and cheese.
 Loursin or Rojo.  They never fail.
 And if we were lucky, a table at Chez Janou, which already feels a bit like ours.

Breakfast was usually at Café Berry.
 The best croissant, at Sain Boulangerie.
 And when we needed a pause, Cortado was our go-to spot at any time of day.

Between trips, the same ritual repeated: getting lost in vintage stores.
 Paris has a way of hiding treasures, and we always end up finding something, or a few things.
 We say we won’t buy anything, and we always end up packing as if we weren’t coming back for months.

Each trip leaves us with the same feeling.  That pop ups aren’t just work, they’re encounters, stories, people who come to see what we do and end up telling us about themselves too.
 They remind us why we started, and why we keep going.

And maybe that’s why our latest campaign is called Paris as a Gallery.
 Because every time we leave, the gallery on our phones is full again.
 Because here, everything is worth photographing. 
Because Paris itself is a gallery. 


A city that reminds us that design, like life, is about balance: between movement and stillness, between structure and spontaneity.