Fox + Kit | Tumbling Towards Joy
“Coffeehaus + Playground”
When I first entered Fox + Kit, my two children in tow, I quickly placed a mental bet with myself: How long would it take us to (1) break something beautiful, or (2) be kicked out entirely?
The cafe felt, distinctly, like somewhere grown-ups like me weren’t allowed to enjoy anymore. Live plants, marble tables, swinging rattan chairs, gorgeous modern furniture in dusty pinks and deep blues. They must not know how sticky we are (?), must not know that I have a 3-week-old banana in my purse, just waiting to tumble out.
The baby-pink-clad barista (a detail I would be remiss to overlook) standing beside a bevy of drool-worthy pastries (another key fact) didn’t appear to share my hesitation. With a smile, he asked if we’d been in before, if he could get a coffee started for me, and if the kids would be heading into the play space.
And, that’s when I saw it … a giant glass wall cordoning off what can safely be considered the most aesthetically-pleasing play area I’d ever seen. Custom woodwork, faux-grass, plush stones, stackable cushions, cozy corners and caves, space for reading and running and dress-up (and whatever other weird things kids do when they are loosely-supervised). We were awestruck, our feet moving forward before our brains could catch up.
So, I stumbled through my coffee order and we continued toward the play space. “We’ll put it in a tumbler for you, so you don’t have to worry about spills in there,” they called after me. I didn’t know exactly what a tumbler was, and the kind, pink barista clearly didn’t know that I’d fully resigned myself to any discomfort associated with spilling things in public (but I was very excited for a special cup). I wanted to drop into my most gravelly voice and tell him, “You don’t know the things I’ve seen…” but I already had the rotten banana to deal with, so I thought it best not to press my luck. (It was the kid’s job to get us kicked out, after all. Wouldn’t want to steal their glory.)
Entering the play space was like entering another world; a world where quality design meets functionality, a world where the color palette doesn’t send your eyes darting back and forth seeking reprieve, a world where kids slide happily down hills with nothing more than pirate hats, books and one another to entertain them. Miraculously, my kids (ages 5 and 10) were both instantly hooked. I grabbed my coffee (a cool, copper tumbler, with a spill-proof lid that I still can’t quite understand the dynamics of), gave them kisses, told them I’d be in the cafe, then left.
Walking back in to the cafe felt illegal.
Can I sit here? Are these swinging chairs for the VIPs? When my kids come running out, loudly-insisting that I come see their half-heartedly executed tumbles, is that when the jig is up? When does the shame part start???
But…it never came.
The kids played, ran in and out, insisted that I meet their new friends and watch their questionable gymnastics feats, took a short break for croissants and chocolate milk (their little mini-tumblers even cuter than mine)…and they played, and I worked (and breathed, and relished in the beauty of the space).
The novelty of this might be lost on someone who hasn’t spent the better part of a decade feeling excluded from the spaces they once found comfort and solace in. And, of course, no one is really *actively* telling you that you can’t enjoy the spaces you once occupied (that would be discrimination) but there is certainly an air of “your crying baby is ***really*** fucking up the vibe and if you don’t leave on your own volition, we might be forced to hipster-stare you into oblivion.” Sometimes just because you’re “allowed” to be somewhere, doesn’t mean you’re welcome there.
When husband and wife designers David and Kyoko Westberg set out to create a space for parents and children, they considered every detail, most notably, a way to make guests feel comfortable, content and accepted for what they are: very nice people (with very loud smaller people, in tow) who all just want some good coffee and yummy snacks.
At Fox and Kit, we’ve found a space that makes us feel both welcome and at ease, even productive. (No one even mentioned the banana.)
Website www.foxandkit.com / Facebook @foxandkitmarin / Instagram @foxandkitcafe
