At first I thought it was some kind of uninviting pop-up art gallery inside a former seafood market. After all, the sign on top said The New Fish Market (yes, it was in English, even though I was in Guadalajara, Mexico). There was a bizarre, oversized photo of a donut in the doorway — very artsy. And a nearly life-sized mannequin of a nun in one of the windows, but facing away. When I got closer, I noticed that she had a monster mask for a face. Inside, all I could see was a plain blue wall and a curtain. I continued walking — I needed to get my hair cut.
I decided this deserved investigation. And I soon found out my barber was selling short just how special this donut shop was. It turns out this is part of a tiny, decidedly creative chain called the Secret Donut Society. It’s kind of like if Dunkin’ Donuts teamed up with a contemporary art gallery to create a sugar-filled speakeasy and an interactive art exhibit.
If you’ve ever seen a David Lynch movie (Mullholland Drive, Blue Velvet, etc.), then you’ll understand what I mean when I say that if Lynch ever made donuts, this would be his shop (and if you want to see the video of my visit, click here or scroll to the bottom of this page). The small room was bathed in deep blue paint, and there was not a soul in sight. A circular curtain hung on one side, apparently covering something, and my eyes were drawn to the brightly colored menu hanging on one wall. I began studying the various over-the-top varieties. But there was no counter, no human present. I didn’t know where to order.
Then, suddenly, a tinny voice emanated from a speaker on the wall. “Let me know when you’re ready to place your order,” he said.
Ahhh, so it’s an intercom, kind of like when you order at the McDonald’s drive-through window.
I placed my order for a donut covered with vanilla icing and M&Ms. It was pricey for Guadalajara – about two U.S. dollars.
A blue-painted door in the wall slid open for me to place my money. It closed, and reopened a few seconds later with my change.
“Go to door number 2, behind the curtain, to pick up your order,” the voice said.
I turned to the far wall and saw a small door — about the size of a tray – labeled “1.” I walked past it and pulled open the curtains, where harsh red lighting immediately enveloped me. Dozens of naked Barbie dolls hung from the ceiling above. A neon sign to the right blared “MESSAGE,” with a mirror to the side that nearly made me question my own existence.
“Your order is ready at door number two,” the voice said.
I turned to the wall and saw the door. I pulled it open and there it was: a cutesy, candy-topped donut that looked as innocent as the shop looked ominous. It sat in a cardboard container with a napkin.
I wasn’t sure how to get out but I figured I’d try leaving on the opposite side of the curtain from where I’d entered. There, the deep blues replaced the urgent red. A neon sign with a SYMBOL hung on one wall, next to another door labeled “3.” I wondered what each of these doors were used for, but there was no one to ask. I made my way out, donut in hand, past the monster-faced nun.
The Secret Donut Society has locations in Guadalajara, Monterrey and Mexico City — but they’re not labeled like a normal shop, so you need to know what to look for. Apparently, every location offers a different experience.