When the Café Slowed Me Down
- Layken Thau
- Oct 7
- 2 min read
Updated: Oct 15
If you asked me a year ago what my Starbucks order said about me, I probably would’ve joked that it said I’m always on the go. I was that girl rushing into a Florida Starbucks between classes — earbuds in, laptop under one arm, answering texts with the other. My matcha latte was my signal to keep moving. It wasn’t some mindful moment — it was just part of my routine, something to hold onto while I kept moving.
But then I moved to Barcelona. And suddenly, the same green logo felt different.

Here, Starbucks isn’t the quick stop on your way somewhere else. It’s where you actually stay. The first time I ordered a matcha here, I remember looking around and realizing how different it felt — people weren’t in a rush. They were actually staying. Reading, chatting, just existing. Even the baristas moved slower, almost like time stretched a little inside those walls. It wasn’t about grabbing a drink — it was about actually being present for a minute.
At first, I blamed it on the culture — Spain just moves slower. People actually take time to talk, not scroll. But after a few visits, I realized even Starbucks itself leans into that. The whole setup feels softer — quieter ads, simple menus, low music. No giant signs or flashy promos, just a place that lets you breathe. It’s the same brand, but it feels entirely different — more local, more human.
I started sitting by the window, no phone, no rush — just me and my matcha. I’d swirl the spoon, watch the green blend into the milk, and zone out watching people pass. It stopped being about the drink and started being about slowing down. For the first time, Starbucks felt like a pause button instead of a play one.
Back home in Florida, Starbucks feels fast — it’s built for movement. Drive-thrus, digital menus, mobile orders stacked on the counter. Everything screams efficiency and trendiness. You’re supposed to hurry up and consume.
But here, it’s different. The pace matches the people. It’s slower, intentional, even comforting.
And it made me think — maybe marketing shouldn’t always be about grabbing attention. Maybe the best brands, the ones we actually trust, make space for quiet moments too.
Lately, more Gen Z consumers are craving that kind of simplicity. We’ve grown up overstimulated — constant notifications, endless scrolling — and we can tell when a brand is trying too hard. What actually stands out now are the ones that don’t. The ones that give us room to just exist.
That’s what I felt in that Barcelona café. A brand that wasn’t trying to sell me a lifestyle — just giving me a moment within it.
When I go back to Florida, I know I’ll fall into old habits — rushing between classes, sipping matcha through a straw on the go. But something’s changed. Now I miss that peace — the kind that sneaks in when you finally stop rushing. My matcha here didn’t give me energy — it gave me clarity. And maybe that’s what I’d been needing all along.
With Love, Layken



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