Le Perron

F*ck fake authenticity
Pinterest is packed with images of bakeries claiming to be authentic. But line them all up, and you’ll start noticing the same cues: black steel, reclaimed wood, subway tiles... When Dutch bakery concept Le Perron came to us, we knew we had to take a few steps back before we could move forward. To build a strong identity, and a story that actually feels true, we needed to start from scratch.
F*ck fake authenticity
Pinterest is packed with images of bakeries claiming to be authentic. But line them all up, and you’ll start noticing the same cues: black steel, reclaimed wood, subway tiles... When Dutch bakery concept Le Perron came to us, we knew we had to take a few steps back before we could move forward. To build a strong identity, and a story that actually feels true, we needed to start from scratch.
F*ck fake authenticity
Pinterest is packed with images of bakeries claiming to be authentic. But line them all up, and you’ll start noticing the same cues: black steel, reclaimed wood, subway tiles... When Dutch bakery concept Le Perron came to us, we knew we had to take a few steps back before we could move forward. To build a strong identity, and a story that actually feels true, we needed to start from scratch.
F*ck fake authenticity
Pinterest is packed with images of bakeries claiming to be authentic. But line them all up, and you’ll start noticing the same cues: black steel, reclaimed wood, subway tiles... When Dutch bakery concept Le Perron came to us, we knew we had to take a few steps back before we could move forward. To build a strong identity, and a story that actually feels true, we needed to start from scratch.
F*ck fake authenticity
Pinterest is packed with images of bakeries claiming to be authentic. But line them all up, and you’ll start noticing the same cues: black steel, reclaimed wood, subway tiles... When Dutch bakery concept Le Perron came to us, we knew we had to take a few steps back before we could move forward. To build a strong identity, and a story that actually feels true, we needed to start from scratch.
The result? Interior design, product design, packaging, customer journey, branding, photography… And even a language of their own.
“From bakery-washing to bakery-realness.”
The result? Interior design, product design, packaging, customer journey, branding, photography… And even a language of their own.
“From bakery-washing to bakery-realness.”
The result? Interior design, product design, packaging, customer journey, branding, photography… And even a language of their own.
“From bakery-washing to bakery-realness.”
The result? Interior design, product design, packaging, customer journey, branding, photography… And even a language of their own.
“From bakery-washing to bakery-realness.”
The result? Interior design, product design, packaging, customer journey, branding, photography… And even a language of their own.
“From bakery-washing to bakery-realness.”




















Product design: from dough to design
The interior of Le Perron is filled with subtle nods to the world of baking, without falling into cliché. Menu boards mimic rolling pins. Pastry moulds double as product displays. Even the lighting takes cues from the texture of freshly baked bread.But we didn’t stop there. What if we actually baked part of the interior? Turns out, the process of making tiles isn’t all that different from baking bread.
So we rolled up our sleeves, headed to the kitchen, and experimented with salt dough until we ended up baking our own tiles.
Product design: from dough to design
The interior of Le Perron is filled with subtle nods to the world of baking, without falling into cliché. Menu boards mimic rolling pins. Pastry moulds double as product displays. Even the lighting takes cues from the texture of freshly baked bread.But we didn’t stop there. What if we actually baked part of the interior? Turns out, the process of making tiles isn’t all that different from baking bread.
So we rolled up our sleeves, headed to the kitchen, and experimented with salt dough until we ended up baking our own tiles.
Product design: from dough to design
The interior of Le Perron is filled with subtle nods to the world of baking, without falling into cliché. Menu boards mimic rolling pins. Pastry moulds double as product displays. Even the lighting takes cues from the texture of freshly baked bread.But we didn’t stop there. What if we actually baked part of the interior? Turns out, the process of making tiles isn’t all that different from baking bread.
So we rolled up our sleeves, headed to the kitchen, and experimented with salt dough until we ended up baking our own tiles.
Product design: from dough to design
The interior of Le Perron is filled with subtle nods to the world of baking, without falling into cliché. Menu boards mimic rolling pins. Pastry moulds double as product displays. Even the lighting takes cues from the texture of freshly baked bread.But we didn’t stop there. What if we actually baked part of the interior? Turns out, the process of making tiles isn’t all that different from baking bread.
So we rolled up our sleeves, headed to the kitchen, and experimented with salt dough until we ended up baking our own tiles.
Product design: from dough to design
The interior of Le Perron is filled with subtle nods to the world of baking, without falling into cliché. Menu boards mimic rolling pins. Pastry moulds double as product displays. Even the lighting takes cues from the texture of freshly baked bread.But we didn’t stop there. What if we actually baked part of the interior? Turns out, the process of making tiles isn’t all that different from baking bread.
So we rolled up our sleeves, headed to the kitchen, and experimented with salt dough until we ended up baking our own tiles.




















Then we thought: why stop there? So we baked a lamp, too.
Then we thought: why stop there? So we baked a lamp, too.
Then we thought: why stop there? So we baked a lamp, too.
Then we thought: why stop there? So we baked a lamp, too.
Then we thought: why stop there? So we baked a lamp, too.
























































































Nederfrans: a language of its own
Our Dutch colleagues in Eindhoven order kwassants and drink jus doranch. It made us laugh and then it inspired us to create a new language: Nederfrans. Nederfrans is a playful, slightly absurd, feel-good language that tips its hat to the French boulangerie but keeps its feet planted firmly in the Netherlands. Not perfect, but full of charm. Like a Dutch tourist in the South of France, explaining things with hand gestures and a grin.
Nederfrans: a language of its own
Our Dutch colleagues in Eindhoven order kwassants and drink jus doranch. It made us laugh and then it inspired us to create a new language: Nederfrans. Nederfrans is a playful, slightly absurd, feel-good language that tips its hat to the French boulangerie but keeps its feet planted firmly in the Netherlands. Not perfect, but full of charm. Like a Dutch tourist in the South of France, explaining things with hand gestures and a grin.
Nederfrans: a language of its own
Our Dutch colleagues in Eindhoven order kwassants and drink jus doranch. It made us laugh and then it inspired us to create a new language: Nederfrans. Nederfrans is a playful, slightly absurd, feel-good language that tips its hat to the French boulangerie but keeps its feet planted firmly in the Netherlands. Not perfect, but full of charm. Like a Dutch tourist in the South of France, explaining things with hand gestures and a grin.
Nederfrans: a language of its own
Our Dutch colleagues in Eindhoven order kwassants and drink jus doranch. It made us laugh and then it inspired us to create a new language: Nederfrans. Nederfrans is a playful, slightly absurd, feel-good language that tips its hat to the French boulangerie but keeps its feet planted firmly in the Netherlands. Not perfect, but full of charm. Like a Dutch tourist in the South of France, explaining things with hand gestures and a grin.
Nederfrans: a language of its own
Our Dutch colleagues in Eindhoven order kwassants and drink jus doranch. It made us laugh and then it inspired us to create a new language: Nederfrans. Nederfrans is a playful, slightly absurd, feel-good language that tips its hat to the French boulangerie but keeps its feet planted firmly in the Netherlands. Not perfect, but full of charm. Like a Dutch tourist in the South of France, explaining things with hand gestures and a grin.




















Packaging: honest & unfiltered
The Nederfrans spirit runs through every touchpoint, including the packaging. We kept things simple. The goal? Let the product speak. No layers of marketing fluff, just honest bread and clear communication. That, too, is a step towards real authenticity.
Packaging: honest & unfiltered
The Nederfrans spirit runs through every touchpoint, including the packaging. We kept things simple. The goal? Let the product speak. No layers of marketing fluff, just honest bread and clear communication. That, too, is a step towards real authenticity.
Packaging: honest & unfiltered
The Nederfrans spirit runs through every touchpoint, including the packaging. We kept things simple. The goal? Let the product speak. No layers of marketing fluff, just honest bread and clear communication. That, too, is a step towards real authenticity.
Packaging: honest & unfiltered
The Nederfrans spirit runs through every touchpoint, including the packaging. We kept things simple. The goal? Let the product speak. No layers of marketing fluff, just honest bread and clear communication. That, too, is a step towards real authenticity.
Packaging: honest & unfiltered
The Nederfrans spirit runs through every touchpoint, including the packaging. We kept things simple. The goal? Let the product speak. No layers of marketing fluff, just honest bread and clear communication. That, too, is a step towards real authenticity.








































Photography: an honest cut
Transparency ran all the way through to photography. We literally sliced through the products to show what’s inside.That cut wasn’t random. It’s based on the coup de lâme, the scoring on top of bread that acts as the baker’s signature.
Photography: an honest cut
Transparency ran all the way through to photography. We literally sliced through the products to show what’s inside.That cut wasn’t random. It’s based on the coup de lâme, the scoring on top of bread that acts as the baker’s signature.
Photography: an honest cut
Transparency ran all the way through to photography. We literally sliced through the products to show what’s inside.That cut wasn’t random. It’s based on the coup de lâme, the scoring on top of bread that acts as the baker’s signature.
Photography: an honest cut
Transparency ran all the way through to photography. We literally sliced through the products to show what’s inside.That cut wasn’t random. It’s based on the coup de lâme, the scoring on top of bread that acts as the baker’s signature.
Photography: an honest cut
Transparency ran all the way through to photography. We literally sliced through the products to show what’s inside.That cut wasn’t random. It’s based on the coup de lâme, the scoring on top of bread that acts as the baker’s signature.


































From the fake South of France to the real North of Amsterdam
If you want to impress someone these days, make sure it’s the havermelkelite in Amsterdam Noord. They’re picky. They’ve seen it all. And they’re exactly the people Le Perron had to win over.The café sits at the base of a residential building. The idea was to make it feel like an extension of the living room. So when we visited recently and saw people working, calling, gathering, catching up, we knew it worked. One group shared a laptop. Two friends sipped flat whites. Some came to talk, others to tune out.It’s a space that adapts to whoever walks in. Which is exactly what we designed it to be.
From the fake South of France to the real North of Amsterdam
If you want to impress someone these days, make sure it’s the havermelkelite in Amsterdam Noord. They’re picky. They’ve seen it all. And they’re exactly the people Le Perron had to win over.The café sits at the base of a residential building. The idea was to make it feel like an extension of the living room. So when we visited recently and saw people working, calling, gathering, catching up, we knew it worked. One group shared a laptop. Two friends sipped flat whites. Some came to talk, others to tune out.It’s a space that adapts to whoever walks in. Which is exactly what we designed it to be.
From the fake South of France to the real North of Amsterdam
If you want to impress someone these days, make sure it’s the havermelkelite in Amsterdam Noord. They’re picky. They’ve seen it all. And they’re exactly the people Le Perron had to win over.The café sits at the base of a residential building. The idea was to make it feel like an extension of the living room. So when we visited recently and saw people working, calling, gathering, catching up, we knew it worked. One group shared a laptop. Two friends sipped flat whites. Some came to talk, others to tune out.It’s a space that adapts to whoever walks in. Which is exactly what we designed it to be.
From the fake South of France to the real North of Amsterdam
If you want to impress someone these days, make sure it’s the havermelkelite in Amsterdam Noord. They’re picky. They’ve seen it all. And they’re exactly the people Le Perron had to win over.The café sits at the base of a residential building. The idea was to make it feel like an extension of the living room. So when we visited recently and saw people working, calling, gathering, catching up, we knew it worked. One group shared a laptop. Two friends sipped flat whites. Some came to talk, others to tune out.It’s a space that adapts to whoever walks in. Which is exactly what we designed it to be.
From the fake South of France to the real North of Amsterdam
If you want to impress someone these days, make sure it’s the havermelkelite in Amsterdam Noord. They’re picky. They’ve seen it all. And they’re exactly the people Le Perron had to win over.The café sits at the base of a residential building. The idea was to make it feel like an extension of the living room. So when we visited recently and saw people working, calling, gathering, catching up, we knew it worked. One group shared a laptop. Two friends sipped flat whites. Some came to talk, others to tune out.It’s a space that adapts to whoever walks in. Which is exactly what we designed it to be.





















































