By Aliyah Olowolayemo
There was a time not too long ago when Lagosians treated food as something functional. Fast food? Enjoy it discreetly. Brunch? A guilty pleasure best kept off the radar. Even those who loved food often downplayed it, acting like indulgence was something to be ashamed of. Eating out was about convenience, not clout. But that Lagos is long gone.
Today, brunch has emerged as a full-blown lifestyle phenomenon. And it’s no longer just about what’s on your plate—it’s about where you’re eating, what you’re wearing, who you’re seen with, and how good the lighting is for your Instagram Story. Somewhere between the outfit planning and the food photography, brunch in Lagos quietly became the city’s most stylish social ritual.
This transformation didn’t happen by accident. Over the past few years, Lagos’ relationship with food has undergone a cultural shift. Food has gone from necessity to statement. The once-casual act of dining out has morphed into a curated experience. Much of this shift has been fueled by social media and the rise of a new kind of tastemaker or, better still, influencers who helped shift the way Lagos engages with food—infusing it with energy, style, and a strong dose of personality. With witty captions, curated aesthetics, and a flair for storytelling, they made it fashionable to celebrate meals, not just consume them. Suddenly, a plate of fries wasn’t just lunch—it was content. Dining out became part of personal branding, and food moved from the sidelines to the spotlight.
What followed was a full cultural shift. Reviews began to go beyond taste—now, ambience, décor, service, and lighting were just as important. A single viral post could turn an overlooked café into the weekend’s go-to spot. In a city that thrives on momentum, food quickly became part of the lifestyle conversation—an experience to be rated, styled, and shared.
Naturally, restaurants adapted. Cafés, lounges, and even fast-food spots began to double as aesthetic playgrounds—filled with velvet chairs, pastel walls, curated playlists, and menus designed to look good on camera. Instagrammable plating became the norm. Drinks arrived with smoke, glitter, or edible flowers. Even the humble jollof had a glow-up.
But it’s not just about what’s pretty. In Lagos, food has become a kind of social currency—a way to connect, to belong, to express taste (both literal and cultural). Recommending a new brunch spot is the modern love language. Tagging your friend under a post with “we need to go here” is the new weekend invite. Eating together is a soft kind of intimacy.
And it goes deeper. For Lagos’ creative set, brunch has become the new networking table. Music execs, stylists, editors, tech founders, and influencers are skipping formal meetings and linking up over pancakes and peppered snails. It’s where conversations begin, collaborations are born, and soft introductions happen in linen shirts and vintage sunglasses. The best deals in Lagos might just be sealed over brunch.
Fashion brands have also entered the chat. Brunch is now a low-pressure platform for designers to show collections, influencers to style looks, and guests to shop between bites. It’s no longer unusual to attend a brunch that doubles as a soft runway, complete with models weaving between tables and racks of clothing positioned just so for impromptu fittings.
And, of course, there’s the unspoken Lagos brunch dress code. For women: breezy dresses, muted tones, dewy makeup, hair laid, nails fresh. For men: linen shirts (wrinkled just enough to look expensive), leather slides, discreet designer sunglasses, and cologne that lingers. No one says it, but everyone knows—you dress to eat like you’re stepping onto a music video set. And if the meal doesn’t end with a photoshoot in front of the café mural, did it even happen?
Location matters too. A check-in at The Observatory, Sketch, Cactus, or RSVP carries cultural weight. These are not just restaurants—they’re lifestyle markers. Posting a picture from the rooftop at The House or inside the dreamy interiors of Knowhere Lagos doesn’t just say, “I had brunch.” It says you’re part of the scene.
In all of this, something fascinating has happened: food is no longer a backdrop to Lagos life—it’s part of the main event. It’s no longer about hiding your cravings or pretending you don’t eat. It’s about showing up, serving looks, sharing bites, and living well. And in a city that has always known how to put on a show, brunch just happens to be the latest stage.
