Why Yo-Chi Matters More Than You Think

Welcome to the first Friday Feature.

Each week, I’ll be breaking down a place, project, or idea shaping the built world — with a sharp lens on vibe, design, and the business behind it. Real stories for real operators.

Let’s kick things off with a frozen yoghurt shop that might just say more about the future of our cities than we think.

On a Friday night in Hawthorn, the line outside Yo-Chi snakes past shopfronts, weaving through the scent of bubble tea, charcoal chicken, and leftover student chatter. Inside, it’s sugar, sound, and motion — neon lights, a mirror ball, Drake’s “Feel No Ways” on the speaker. There’s laughter. One person’s balancing a mountain of froyo while unpacking a break-up. Another’s mid-divorce chat with their lawyer (true story). It’s ridiculous. And it’s exactly what we desperately need: a third place that isn’t a bar, a gym, or on a screen.

What Is a Third Place, and Why It Matters Now

Sociologist Ray Oldenburg coined the term “third place” in his foundational text The Great Good Place published in 1989. First is home, second is work or school. The third place is the wild card. The glue. The neutral zone where people gather not out of obligation, but out of craving for something softer than hustle. Cafes, barber shops, old pubs, corner stores. Places with no agenda except to be there, among people. The problem, as Oldenburg saw it, is that modern life has systematically wiped these places out. Malls replaced main streets. Netflix replaced the pub. Cities grew up, but forgot to grow wide, forgot the importance of regular human places. And young people? They’ve been quietly left with nowhere to go.

Yo-Chi as Social Infrastructure

Enter Yo-Chi. An unlikely hero in a world of vacancy.

This isn’t just a frozen yoghurt joint. It’s a high-vibe neutral zone where the social architecture is stronger than the physical one. It’s noisy. It’s alive. It’s packed with teenagers, uni kids, a few too many young couples who can’t keep their hands off each other, and the occasional parent who just came along for the ride. Everyone’s in hoodies and Uggs like it’s the dress code. The music thumps. The staff never rush you out. The seats are always full. You can linger. You should linger. It’s a come as you are kind of place.

Oldenburg’s criteria are almost laughably well-suited here: open and inclusive? Check. Low cost, high sociability? Absolutely. No pressure to consume beyond your own impulse? Yes. People aren’t there for the yoghurt. They’re there for each other, the yoghurt is just the currency of entry.

Designing for Belonging

The design helps. Neon signage and mirrored walls give it a low stakes, feel good club energy. There’s no waitstaff. You build your own bowl. You choose your toppings. You pay by weight. There’s one cup size. Everyone’s equal. Everyone’s busy making something. It's part ritual, part performance, part sugar high. The experience feels democratic and a little absurd, which is to say, human.

Location as Community Catalyst

Location matters too. Glenferrie Road (my local spot) is a corridor of youth. Elite private schools, Swinburne University, Lido Cinema, public transport, cheap eats. Yo-Chi slots into the area like a keystone. You can arrive alone and still feel part of the mix. You can show up late and still find life buzzing at 10pm. In a strip full of food but short on gathering, Yo-Chi offers a public living room disguised as dessert bar.

A Softer Alternative to the Bar Scene

Compare that to your average café, closed by 4. Or the bar scene, loud, somewhat exclusionary, 18+. Even food courts feel sterile now. Yo-Chi is something else. It's soft power. It’s accessible cool. It gives kids and uni students a low commitment, high energy way to be in the world without being swallowed by it.

Third Places and Mental Health

This isn’t just good business, though Yo-Chi has scaled fast across the country. It’s good urbanism. Good mental health strategy. Good culture.

We know that regular access to third places reduces loneliness, boosts emotional resilience, and improves community bonds. According to the ABS, in 2022, 25% of Australians aged 15–24 reported feeling lonely, a notable increase from 19% in 2002. Meanwhile, the 2024 Mission Australia Youth Survey found that 55 percent of young Australians believe alcohol is a major problem, while 73 percent say the same about drugs. The same survey reported that many youths are searching for social settings that feel inclusive, healthy, and safe. In short, your “college bar” isn’t the vibe anymore.

Health Trends and the New Social Landscape

Yo-Chi’s rise is also in step with changing health consciousness. As younger generations move away from binge drinking and fast food, they are seeking out social options that align with wellness goals. Frozen yoghurt has somewhat of a “health halo” — lighter than ice cream, often linked to probiotics and customisation. Combined with non-alcoholic choices, open late hours, and no pressure to party, it becomes a gathering space for people who want balance. The venue’s build-your-own format lets people control their sugar intake and portion sizes, making it compatible with contemporary attitudes around mindful eating and body autonomy.

Basically, it’s the sweet treat that never leaves you feeling guilty.

The Global Return to Third Places

The New York Times recently reported that “third places” are now a focal point in corporate strategy. Even Starbucks, once the poster child of third spaces, is working to reclaim that identity by reintroducing ceramics, comfortable seating, and encouraging in store lingering to combat its slump in sales and relevance.

But unlike these efforts to retrofit third place energy, Yo-Chi has it baked in from the beginning. These places matter because they are neutral sanctuaries in a hyper-capitalised world, and offer somewhere to exist without spending too much, performing too hard, or feeling surveilled. Third places are where culture, not commerce, leads.

The Vibe Is the Product

Melbourne’s hospitality scene is saturated with technically perfect venues that miss the vibe. Yo-Chi flips that: the product is good, but the vibe is the real product. It’s a space designed for community, not just consumption. And that’s why it wins.

Be honest — do you remember the food you ate last night, or the conversation you had over it?

The Future of Retail Is Hybrid and Human

Looking ahead, retail analysts predict a widening gap between transactional retail and community driven experience spaces. In an economy where traditional high streets are fading, with the UK losing 37 shops a day in 2024, according to the UK Centre for Retail Research, concepts like Yo-Chi point to the future: hybrid retail social hubs that offer both product and place.

As McKinsey’s Colleen Baum argues, these experiential spaces need higher upfront investment, longer fit-out timelines, and prime visibility to succeed. They work best in dense, walkable precincts with complementary tenants, where the retailer becomes part of a broader ecosystem of shared foot traffic and placemaking. The payoff? Higher in-store engagement, stronger omni-channel performance, and the ability to structure leases based on holistic value, not just square meterage.

The Most Important Shop on the Strip?

Yo-Chi didn’t invent the third place. But it understood the assignment. It reclaims the milk bar and the corner diner, while learning from the late night kebab shop. It gives us all somewhere to go that isn’t private or performative. And in doing so, it reminds us of what retail, and city life, is supposed to be about: people. Not productivity. Not transactions. Not churn. Just people. Together.

So yeah… it’s frozen yoghurt. But it’s also the most important shop on the strip.

Thanks for reading. Hit reply if this sparked anything. And forward it to someone who’s thinking about what the next generation of spaces should feel like.

Have a restful weekend.

Catch you in the dirt,
— Team DIRT

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