Koneko Sweet Stand

How did this place come about and what made it different from the start?
From the start, I wanted to open a shop inspired by Japan. I’ve always been drawn to spaces where the aesthetic and the everyday coexist naturally. When I traveled to Japan, I noticed that many boutiques offered tea or coffee within the same space, and it felt like a very intimate way to welcome people. Not just to sell something, but to invite them to stay.

The original idea was simple: to offer tea, coffee, or matcha while people shopped. We opened with that quiet, almost understated intention. But something unexpected happened. Suddenly, lines started forming; we began receiving Instagram messages for reservations, and many people showed up asking directly for “the café.” It got a little out of hand… and it was beautiful.

What started as a small gesture became a meeting point. The team had to grow, we reformulated drinks, organized our processes, added small tables, and adapted the space into something that was taking on a life of its own. I think what made it different from the beginning was that genuine intention to create experience before volume. We never set out to open a café as such; we simply wanted to share something we loved.

What part of the day, space, or creative process do those who work here enjoy the most?
Every moment has its charm. There’s something special about the calm before opening, and also about the movement when the space fills up. But if we had to choose, it would probably be the moments when we experiment with new recipes. When there are no customers and we can test drinks, adjust flavors, and play with ideas. The space becomes almost like a creative lab: we spend time together, talk, laugh a lot. It’s a very “ours” kind of moment.

And of course, we also love when the “house” is full. When the tables are occupied and the room fills with conversations. Our community gives life to the space. Without that shared energy, it wouldn’t be the same.

If someone is coming in for the first time, what should they not miss?
It’s hard to choose just one thing, because the space is full of small details that tell stories. But if we had to point something out, it would be the matcha bar. It was made 100% by hand by my sisters, who are ceramic artists. Each tile was shaped and painted one by one, featuring illustrations of our little cat, Koko-kun. It’s not just a functional bar, it’s a piece of art that inhabits the space. It’s family, it’s time invested, it’s identity turned into matter.

And of course, you can’t leave without trying the matcha latte. It’s the heart of the place. The first sip captures everything we are: care, intention, and a small shared ritual.

What has been an interesting challenge that has made you rethink something about the project?
When the project grew faster than we ever imagined. The lines thrilled us, but they also created stress. There were moments when we simply couldn’t keep up, and the space began to feel small.

That unexpected growth forced us to rethink our processes, timing, and internal dynamics. We learned that public enthusiasm is a gift, but sustaining it requires structure and care. It was challenging, but necessary in order to grow without losing our essence.

What influence, idea, or reference continues to shape the way you work today?
I find inspiration in every trip I take. Each country leaves me with something: a texture, an idea, a different way of inhabiting spaces. I always return with new references and the desire to reinterpret them through our own identity.

But without a doubt, Japan remains the main inspiration. Not only for its aesthetics, but for its understanding of detail, respect for process, and the beauty found in everyday life. That sensitivity continues to guide our decisions, from spatial design to the way we prepare each drink.

What place, project, or person has inspired you recently and why?
Curiously, what has inspired me most lately is the project itself. Watching it take its first steps and continue evolving has become a constant source of motivation.

There’s something very special about accompanying a process that is still under construction. I’m excited to see what it will become, how it changes, and how it finds its own voice. Sometimes the greatest inspiration doesn’t come from outside, but from what is growing right in front of you.

If your space could invite someone to collaborate for a day, who would it be and what would you do together?
Along the way, we’ve been fortunate to invite many friends and colleagues to collaborate, and it always turns into a meaningful experience. My sisters have been fundamental, but we’ve also worked with designers, even from Japan, and each collaboration has brought something unique.

Rather than thinking of just one person, I’m excited by the idea of continuing to keep the door open. This little place has allowed me to meet countless creative and sensitive people. I love that the project can be a meeting point where ideas blend and take shape together.

Is there an object, corner or detail of the place that has a story that few people know?
Every figurine, every magazine, every object has a story. The space works almost like a living collage of everything that inhabits and inspires me. But there’s one detail few people notice. When the handmade ceramic bar was installed, we handled every tile with great care. Still, during installation, one broke. It wasn’t easy to replace, each piece was unique. We decided to repair it and leave it as it is. It has a small visible “scar.”

For us, it became a quiet symbol: in every process, unexpected things happen. Sometimes there are fractures, but there is also repair. And continuing forward is part of the beauty.

If this project were a city, a book, or a record, which would it be and why?
If it were a city, it would be Shimokitazawa in Tokyo. It’s a creative, intimate neighborhood filled with small spaces that have their own identity. It was one of my greatest inspirations and carries that mix of nostalgia, independence, and aesthetic sensitivity that feels very close to the spirit of this project.

If it were an album, it would be Visions from Grimes. There’s something experimental, feminine, and free about it, yet also very intentional and detailed. That balance between sensitivity and structure resembles what we try to do here.

And if it were a book, it would be a manga by Ai Yazawa. Her stories blend fashion, emotion, and complex characters. There’s style, but also depth. That duality between aesthetics and inner world is something that has always interested me and also lives within this space.

Answers by Lucinda Herrera, fundadora y directora creativa de Koneko