Dries Van Noten at Chainsaw, the Venezuelan coffee shop in Melrose Hill

The ritual of meeting up and hanging out at a coffee shop in L.A. is a showcase of style filled with a subtle site-specific tension. Don’t you see it? Comfort battles formality fighting to break free. Hiding out chafes against being perceived. In the end, we make ourselves at home at all costs — and pull a look while doing it.

It’s the morning after a night out. Two friends meet up at Chainsaw in Melrose Hill, the cafe with the flan lattes, crispy arepas and sorbet-colored wall everybody and their mom has been talking about.

Miraculously, the line of people that usually snakes down Melrose yearning for a slice of chef Karla Subero Pittol’s passion lime fruit icebox pie is nonexistent today. Thank God, because the party was sick last night — the DJ mixed Nelly Furtado’s “Promiscuous” into Peaches’ “F— the Pain Away” and the walls were sweating — so making it to the cafe’s front door alone is like wading through viscous, knee-high water. Senses dull and blunt in that special way where it feels like your brain is wearing a weighted vest. The sun, an oppressor. Caffeine needed via IV drip.

The mood: “Don’t look at me,” as they look around furtively, still waking up. “But wait, do. I’m wearing the new Dries Van Noten from head to toe.”

Daniel, left, wears Dries Van Noten mac, henley, pants, oxford shoes, necklace and socks. Sirena wears Dries Van Noten blouse, micro shorts, sneakers, shell charm necklace, cuff and bag and Los Angeles Apparel socks.

If a fit is fire and no one is around to see it, does it make a sound? A certain kind of L.A. coffee shop is (blessedly) one of the few everyday runways we have, followed up by the Los Feliz post office and the Alvarado Car Wash in Echo Park. We come to a coffee shop like Chainsaw for strawberry matchas the color of emeralds and rubies and crackling papas fritas that come with a tamarind barbecue sauce so good it may as well be categorized as a Schedule 1. But we stay for something else.

There is a game we play at the L.A. coffee shop. We’re all in on it — the deniers especially. It can best be summed up by that mood: “Don’t look at me. But wait, do.” Do. Do. Do. Do. We go to a coffee shop to see each other, to be seen. And we pretend we’re not doing it. How cute. Yes, I’m peering at you from behind my hoodie and my sunglasses but the hoodie is a niche L.A. brand and the glasses are vintage designer. I wore them just for you. One time I was sitting at what is to me amazing and to some an insufferable coffee shop in the Arts District where a regular was wearing a headpiece made entirely of plastic sunglasses that covered every inch of his face — at least a foot long in all directions — jangling with every movement he made. Respect, I thought.

Dries Van Noten’s spring/summer 2026 collection feels so right in a place like this. The women’s show, titled “Wavelength,” is about “balancing hard and soft, stiff and fluid, casual and refined, simple and complex,” writes designer Julian Klausner in the show notes. While for the men’s show, titled “A Perfect Day,” Klausner contextualizes: “A man in love, on a stroll at the beach at dawn, after a party. Shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, the silhouette takes on a new life. I asked myself: What is formal? What is casual? How do these feel?” What is formal or casual? How do you balance hard and soft? The L.A. coffee shop is a container for this spectrum. A dynamic that works because of the tension. A master class in this beautiful dance. There is no more fitting place to wear the SS26 Dries beige tuxedo jacket with heather gray capri sweats and pink satin boxing boots, no better audience for the floor-length striped sheer gown worn with satin sneakers — because even though no one will bat an eye, you trust that your contribution has been clocked and appreciated.

Daniel wears Dries Van Noten coat, shorts, sneakers and socks. Sirena wears Dries Van Noten jacket, micro shorts and sneakers.

Back at Chainsaw the friends drink their iced lattes, they eat their beautiful chocolate milk tres leches in a coupe. They’re revived — buzzing, even; at the glorious point in the caffeinated beverage where everything is beautiful, nothing hurts and at least one of them feels like a creative genius. The longer they stay, the more their style reveals itself. Before they were flexing in a secret way. Now they’re just flexing. Looking back at you looking at them, the contract understood. Doing it for the show. Wait, when did they change? How long have they been here? It doesn’t matter. They have all day. Time ceases to exist in a place like this.

Daniel wears Dries Van Noten tuxedo coat, pants, scarf, sneakers and necklace and Hanes tank top. Sirena wears Dries Van Noten jacket, micro shorts, sneakers and socks.