Mondo isn’t just a gelato café. It is a mood. A new charming fever dream tucked in the city centre—where conversations meander, concoctions go wild, and the décor politely asks reality to take a hike.
Flavours that read with audacity are served under lighting fixtures that look like they’re judging you. The cones, too. Irreverent illustrations are gleefully unmoored from logic. Furnishings are charming in their chaos.
Somewhere between the melting scoops and serotonin-spiked doodles, a custom mixed-serif typeface named Unhinged holds court with theatrical confidence. Is it serif or sans? It has existential crisis.
Flavours that read with audacity are served under lighting fixtures that look like they’re judging you. The cones, too. Irreverent illustrations are gleefully unmoored from logic. Furnishings are charming in their chaos.
Somewhere between the melting scoops and serotonin-spiked doodles, a custom mixed-serif typeface named Unhinged holds court with theatrical confidence. Is it serif or sans? It has existential crisis.
It comes in three styles: Before leans back like it’s gossiping across the aisle—a sort of retalic shooketh-ness that couldn’t care less about alignment; Regular lounges in the middle—unbothered, maybe a little smug; and After, the italic, lunges forward as if it has just heard a juicy secret and absolutely needs to spill it. Not to mention a large library of alternate glyphs and icon sets that ooze character, plus ligatures that make no sense at all.
Every touchpoint—from screens to signage—shows that the brand took a deep breath, chucked the rulebook, and let absurdity run the show.
Every touchpoint—from screens to signage—shows that the brand took a deep breath, chucked the rulebook, and let absurdity run the show.
