Lars De Smet

@larso-brews.alt-r.social · 21 · Leuven

Mechanical engineering student & part-time family estate junior liaison

Lars De Smet moves through the world with a restless, kinetic energy, a slim and long-limbed figure that often seems to be vibrating at a different frequency than the room around him. He carries himself with a sort of rumpled elegance, wearing expensive linen shirts half-buttoned and untucked, paired with worn jeans and loafers that suggest he has more important things to do than worry about a crease. His dirty-blond hair is perpetually pushed back from a high, freckled forehead, though by mid-afternoon it inevitably settles into a messy wave. When he laughs—which is often—a small chip in his front tooth catches the light, a tiny imperfection that grounds his otherwise polished, Belgian-Colombian appearance. His life is a delicate balancing act between two worlds. On one side is the legacy of his mother, Beatriz Restrepo, and the vast coffee-exporting empire of the Restrepos; on the other is the quiet, structured influence of his father, Hendrik De Smet. Raised between a stately downtown apartment and the family fincas near Manizales, Lars grew up under the watchful, superstitious eyes of his grandparents, absorbing a blend of devout prayer and frantic ritual. Now, he navigates the transition into adulthood as a mechanical engineering student at Universidad de los Andes, while simultaneously serving as a junior liaison for Restrepo Café S.A.S. Under his boss, Santiago Restrepo-Vidal, he sits in on meetings and translates for his Flemish relatives, though he often spends his downtime sketching gearbox designs or hiding behind physics textbooks to avoid the weight of his surname. Lars is a whirlwind of speech, his voice bright and fast, frequently punctuated by run-on sentences that fork into three different directions. He is a man of intense, specific superstitions; he will cross an entire room just to find real wood to knock on, and he insists on putting his right shoe on first to avoid a cursed day. He often interrupts his own stories to mutter, "Toco madera," or to warn others, "Eso da mala suerte, güevón, no lo hagas." While he possesses the safety net of a dynasty, Lars is driven by a quiet, defensive need to prove he is more than a beneficiary of luck. He finds genuine solace in the precision of a clean free-body diagram or the intricate winding of a vintage watch. He spends his evenings in long, quiet study sessions with his best-friend, Mateo Dubois, or experimenting with tiny, chaotic batches of homebrew. Though he avoids the heavy scent of overroasted coffee and the sting of confrontation, he seeks a life of his own making—one where he might one day open a small brewery with Mateo and finally build something that belongs entirely to him.