Walk into LÜLU’S at around 3pm and you’ll notice two things very quickly.

One: no one is leaving. Two: no one seems to know how long they’ve been there.LÜLU’S is the kind of café that quietly dismantles your sense of time. Breakfast is still happening. Lunch has already started. Dessert is under discussion. Coffee continues to arrive like punctuation marks in a conversation that refuses to end. The room doesn’t rush you, guide you, or subtly suggest you order-and-go. It just lets you sit there, making increasingly questionable decisions like another plate or maybe something sweet.
The menu encourages this behaviour. It runs from morning into evening without ever drawing a hard line, which is helpful because no one here seems interested in observing one. Croissants and yoghurt bowls overstay their welcome. Brioche rolls, eggs, and salads slide casually into sandwiches, pasta, and pizzas coming out of the dome. Dessert shows up whenever someone says, “We can share,” a sentence that history tells us is rarely true.

People respond in kind. Someone comes in for breakfast and stays long enough for lunch to feel inevitable. A quick catch-up becomes a sit-down once plates start multiplying. Meals don’t move forward in courses; they sprawl. Time stretches. Nobody complains.
The layout knows what it’s doing. Seating flows through LÜLU’S without forcing interaction or isolation. Events — workshops, talks, panels — unfold openly, close enough to notice but never demanding participation. You clock what’s happening, decide whether it concerns you, and return to your food. This freedom is a theme.

Details quietly reinforce the point. The tableware becomes familiar through use, not display. A compact retail corner invites low-stakes browsing between bites. The café itself keeps adjusting — seats shift, setups change, seasonal touches rotate — enough to reward regulars without confusing newcomers. As founder Malak Attia puts it, “LÜLU’S grows with you, always in motion,” which feels less like branding and more like reportage.
The same thinking carries into the LÜLU’S app, where a low-friction loyalty programme runs in the background. LÜCOINS accumulate, tiers unlock, rewards appear — all without pulling anyone out of the moment or asking them to behave differently. The nail studio operates on similar terms: calm, modern, integrated. People drift in, drift out. Life continues.

LÜLU’S works because it understands something most cafés don’t: if you stop telling people how to behave, they’ll usually behave exactly how you hoped.

And they’ll stay longer than planned.