Type began in Iranshahr in 2017.

For years, this neighborhood in Tehran was mostly known for printers, office equipment, paper, office workers, daytime traffic, and quiet nights. But over time, another story began to take shape here: livelier evenings, street music, groups of friends, crowded gatherings, long conversations, and eventually, a shared culture of café-going.

Type may have been one of the places that gave life to this quiet shift — while also being shaped by it.

Not through claims or noise.
Not by forcing the neighborhood to change its face.
But by creating an inviting space where people and neighbors stayed, returned, met, talked, and experienced Iranshahr differently.

We did not design Type merely as a café for consumption.

For us, tables, chairs, distance, light, and sound are not just elements of a space. They should all help people sit together more naturally; let conversations form more easily; make encounters possible; and sometimes, let a new friendship begin where no one expected it.

At Type, architecture is not meant to show itself off.
It is meant to work — comfortably and thoughtfully.

To bring people a little closer, without disturbing them.
To create a gathering, without turning liveliness into disorder.

Days at Type are brighter and more focused.

In the morning and afternoon, the space has a calmer rhythm — for work meetings, short pauses, more precise conversations, sitting alone, or finding a few good minutes in the middle of the city.

Nights at Type are livelier and closer.

The light changes, voices and music begin to blend, the tables feel warmer, and the space becomes more like somewhere people choose to stay. Type is busier at night, but it is not meant to become chaotic. It is spirited, but not without boundaries. It knows how to enjoy itself, without becoming shallow.

Type may look like a café, and it also has a museum.
But that is not the whole story.

If you only look at the café, you have seen only part of it.
If you only visit the museum, you still have not seen it all.

Type happens somewhere between the two: where people sit, meet, and leave a trace of their presence in the space.

Type is not entirely classic, nor is it trying to look modern.

Something of the past remains in it, but it does not stay in the past.
Something of today is present in it, but it does not resemble the rootless, overly polished spaces of today.

Type lives between the two — where old signs, people of today, sound, music, movement, and conversation begin to make sense together.

At Type, we are all ordinary and valuable people.

Familiar faces and unknown guests sit beside one another, but the standard of hospitality remains the same: respect, attention, and the quality of experience for everyone.

No one is meant to be seen more simply because they are more recognizable.
No one is meant to matter less simply because they are unknown.
We all have equal value here.

We do not belong to spaces that are more about display than experience.

Not soulless luxury.
Not intellectual posturing.
Not mechanical service.
Not a place built only for photographs.

Type should remain alive — with people, sound, music, movement, bright mornings, conversation-filled nights, and moments that truly happen.

Type Café Museum is for experiencing moments with quality.

For meetings that do not end in a hurry.
For conversations that find their own way and become deeper.
For the times when the city pauses a little, feels freer, and its people come a little closer to one another.