On many corners of Mexico City, especially at Metro and Metrobús exits, you’ll find the classic coffee and bread carts. They’re adapted mobile tricycles, serving a simple, popular breakfast highly valued by those who get up early for work. But this everyday image could disappear.
In the Cuauhtémoc borough, several vendors have been removed or restricted, according to social media reports cited by Récord. Journalist Itzel Cruz Alanís explained that she could no longer find a stand near Buenavista.
“A man secretly sold us coffee and bread. ‘It’s just that @AlcCuauhtemocMx won’t let us serve it anymore,’ he said while quickly pouring the drinks so they wouldn’t catch him,” she posted on her X account (formerly Twitter).
Coffee and bread carts are not (and will not be) the only street vendors affected.
In the post, the reporter tagged Mayor Alessandra Rojo de la Vega, questioning the reason for the measure and how it affects vendors in the area. A few hours later, the head of the Cuauhtémoc mayor’s office responded in the post’s comments:
“The measure is to clean the area, floors, etc., which were incredibly dirty. Reorganize and cut down on the overflowing commerce that was impeding people’s access on the sidewalks. All of this through dialogue and negotiations with them,” wrote Rojo de la Vega.
These measures are causing mixed reactions and heated debates, considering that 54.8% of the economically active population in Mexico depends on informal trade, according to INEGI data. While the government insists it only seeks to regulate, testimonies paint a different picture.
The outlook for coffee and bread vendors has changed drastically. They no longer operate freely in traditional areas like Reforma, Insurgentes, or Eje Central. A vendor who has been operating at the famous Esquina de la Información, located at 16 Paseo de la Reforma Avenue, for five years, says they can only sell until 10:00 a.m., and only with special permits.
“Legally, we can’t sell on the street; the mayor’s office is the one that gives us a ‘special’ permit so we can sell until 10:00 a.m.,” he explained to the media outlet De Dinero.
He asserts that they can stay longer on less-trafficked streets without any problems, but traffic drops so much that sales aren’t worth it. In addition to the hours, stalls must measure one meter by one meter and cannot have gas tanks or objects that endanger citizens.
Although they abide by the rules, many feel that the capital’s authorities have not given them a clear explanation as to why they can no longer operate on main avenues. “Well, they haven’t told us the reasons why we can’t sell,” he added.
The reorganization of informal trade doesn’t just affect coffee carts. The modernization of the Modal Transfer Centers (Cetram) has sparked protests among street vendors. The Transportation Regulatory Organization (ORT) maintains that this is not an eviction, but rather an orderly relocation. However, vendors complain that their livelihood is being taken away.
According to official figures, there are 4,458 street vendors operating in 24 Cetrams in Mexico City. In Indios Verdes alone, there are 1,250. Pantitlán has 738, and La Raza 535. Plans call for their relocation, but there are no guarantees that the new spaces will have the same influx or conditions.
In places like Buenavista or El Rosario, informal presence is no longer observed. But in others, like Observatorio or San Lázaro, vendors continue to appear despite official reports to the contrary.
Reforma, Santa María, and “Lord Banquetas”: The Other Side of Street Vendors in Mexico City
On Paseo de la Reforma, the city government reports more than 70% progress in removing street vendors. From 280 vendors in 12 locations, there are now about 70. Undersecretary Adolfo Llubere Sevilla stated: “It will be done as soon as possible. In a few weeks, it will be completely free.”
But while authorities seek to “recover” public space, there is a parallel narrative: one of classism and stigmatization. In Santa María la Ribera, a man nicknamed “Lord Banquetas” was recorded yelling at a vendor selling pinwheels and toys.
“Please move! We don’t want street vendors in my neighborhood!” he demanded. His demands provoked fear among those present, including the vendor’s daughters, who burst into tears. The scene sparked outrage on social media, according to Quinta Fuerza.
Although street vendors can operate legally with authorization from the mayor’s office, pressure from neighbors and rhetoric about “order” complicates their survival. The Commercial Establishments Law allows their existence, but public spaces become a terrain of social dispute.
Between the need to maintain urban order and the right to work of thousands of people, Mexico City faces a complex dilemma. Street vendors, far from disappearing, continue to seek ways to survive amid restrictions, stigmas, and new rules.
Source: emprendedor
