Okay, so picture this: it’s a Tuesday, I’m wearing my “I’m not trying but still fabulous” outfit (read: vintage Levi’s, a silky little camel tank, and that cashmere cardigan I definitely could not afford full price), and I’m in SoHo, minding my own coffee-craving business.
Morning Chic Happens
You know how in New York, walking two blocks turns into a full-blown expedition? I was supposed to meet Monica for a quick oat milk latte fix and a post-brunch gossip debrief. But — surprise! — she gets called into work because, apparently, people want their chef at the restaurant during actual open hours (rude). So, I do what any self-respecting New Yorker-slash-former personal shopper-slash-hungry blonde would do: I start roaming.
That’s when I see it. The cutest little hole-in-the-wall café nestled between a high-concept jewelry store and a boutique that looked like it exclusively sold oversized trench coats to Olsen twins. The café? Maison Lune. The aesthetic? French countryside moved to Brooklyn via minimalist Pinterest board. Think exposed brick, hanging brass planters, and coffee so aromatic you’d consider writing it poetry.
I step in.
Wait—Is That a Wind Machine?
Immediately, I’m hit with the scent of real croissants. Like, actual buttery flakes and not the sad kind you get from the cart guy with questionable fingernails. But before I can form a meaningful relationship with a warm almond croissant, I realize something is… off.
There are lights. People. Stylists. Someone shouting “Where’s the Vera scarf with the lemon piping?!”
And then I see her: The model. She’s draped over a bentwood chair, sipping espresso like it’s a performance art piece. She’s in a handmade cream blazer, no pants (because, fashion), and boots that looked like they could pay rent on a Williamsburg one-bedroom.
Long story short, I’d walked into a full-blown fashion shoot.
Do I Turn Around? No. I Order a Croissant.
Look. As someone who once accidentally worked at Ralph Lauren and has spent enough time around sample sales to earn a PhD in Combat Shopping, I know how to handle this. I nod like I belong, walk to the counter, and say with all the confidence of Naomi at a Met Gala afterparty, “One croissant, please.”
And thank God I did, because that croissant? It was warm, flaky perfection. A little sweet almond, a little savory butter, and just enough powdered sugar to make you look like you cannot be trusted in a black turtleneck.
I grabbed the one bistro table that wasn’t commandeered by someone with a camera or a clipboard and settled in. I mean, if you’re accidentally backstage at a shoot, you might as well enjoy the front row seat.
Things I Overheard While Sipping My Latte:
- “Her cheekbones are doing all the work. The blazer is basically just there for emotional support.”
- “Do not put the eucalyptus on the cappuccino. That was for the flat lay.”
- “Can someone move the light? The reflection’s making the croissant look too shiny.”
- Me: “Okay, that’s not a thing. Too shiny croissant? Sir, tone it down.”
Why I’ll Be Back
Besides the croissant-of-the-century and the unintentionally glam surroundings, Maison Lune has this vibe that feels like that tiny Parisian café from Season 7 of my life when I seriously considered going to culinary school (for a full two days). It’s got personality without being pretentious, the espresso is rich without needing a finance degree to afford it, and the lighting? Flattering. Even the napkins were doing something for me.
And, listen—I may have stayed through the shoot. And I may or may not have ended up in the background of one of the shots pretending to examine a very moody art book about 1970s photography (I only knocked over one prop plant, let’s not talk about it).
Final Thoughts (and a Outfit Repeat Confession)
SoHo is full of surprises—some come in the form of croissants, others come with flashbulbs and dramatic sighs from a stylist named Bruno. Either way, I say walk into the scene. Own it. Preferably with layers and lip gloss.
And yes, I wore that outfit again on Thursday. Because in the words of Monica: if no one posted it, it didn’t happen.
xx,
Rachel 💋
P.S. Maison Lune. It’s on Prince and Mott. Get there before the influencers find it. (Okay, too late.)
