In Holland Village, a former gymnast has done what few wellness entrepreneurs attempt: she has refused to separate the body's needs from one another. Anastasiia Cheong, twenty-nine, opened The Calla Project as a deliberate answer to the fragmentation of modern wellness culture — a place where movement, recovery, nourishment, and belonging occupy the same roof, the same afternoon, the same life. Built on the memory of athletes sitting together after training, it is less a business than a philosophy made physical.
Former gymnast opens women-only wellness hub blending movement, recovery and dining
Recovery spaces were where we talked, relaxed and connected
Why did she insist on making Recharge women-only? That's a specific choice.
She wanted recovery to feel accessible and less intimidating than a performance gym. For athletes, recovery spaces were social—where you talked, relaxed, connected. She wanted to recreate that for everyday women, not just elite performers.
But we don't know how many women actually use it, or whether they feel that way. We know the typical visitor is in her thirties or forties, but that's her observation, not data.
The cold plunge at twelve to fifteen degrees—that sounds cold. Why not colder?
She didn't want it to feel unnecessarily extreme. She wanted first-time guests to feel welcome, not shocked. The giggles and squeals she mentions—that's the experience becoming fun rather than punishing.
That's her design choice, and it seems to work for her clientele. But we don't have feedback from actual users about whether that temperature hits the mark or feels like a compromise.
Eight hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money for a cafe and some pools. What was the hardest part?
Building the pools on the third floor. The building is old. Structural and safety requirements for pools are strict. The kitchen and changing facilities had to be built from scratch. Everything else got a major overhaul.
The renovation cost four hundred thousand, equipment and fit-out another four hundred. That's what she estimates. We don't have independent verification of those figures or whether the project came in on budget.
She left coaching in 2025 to do this. That's a big leap.
It is. She spent twenty-four years in gymnastics, then coached, then decided to build something new. The business is her first venture.
We don't know why she left coaching or what her financial situation was that allowed her to invest eight hundred thousand. Those details matter for understanding the full picture.
The name—The Calla Project—that's thoughtful.
It's her favourite flower. Calla lilies symbolise rebirth, beauty, purity. She chose Project because she didn't want the space to feel finished or static, but something that could evolve.
That's her intention. Whether it actually evolves or stays the same is something we'll only know over time.
Le Pouls
- Wellness culture has long scattered its offerings across the city, forcing women to choose between recovery and community, convenience and quality — Cheong decided that trade-off was unnecessary.
- An $800,000 renovation of a former hair salon, including structural reinforcement to support rooftop pools, compressed six months of regulatory approvals and construction into a space that opened just days after its final details were finished.
- The women-only upper floor — sauna, cold plunge, mineral bath, outdoor terrace — is designed to feel social and unhurried rather than clinical or performance-driven, a direct rejection of the intimidating gym aesthetic.
- Visitors in their thirties and forties are arriving not just for physical recovery but for the rarer experience of unscheduled time in a space that feels like it belongs to them.
- The concept is named after a flower symbolising rebirth, and Cheong chose the word 'Project' deliberately — signalling that what she has built is meant to keep evolving, not to calcify into a finished product.
In Holland Village, a former gymnast has done what few wellness entrepreneurs attempt: she has refused to separate the body's needs from one another. Anastasiia Cheong, twenty-nine, opened The Calla Project as a deliberate answer to the fragmentation of modern wellness culture — a place where movement, recovery, nourishment, and belonging occupy the same roof, the same afternoon, the same life. Built on the memory of athletes sitting together after training, it is less a business than a philosophy made physical.
A short walk from Holland Village MRT, up a relocated staircase in what was once a hair salon, The Calla Project occupies two storeys with a clear sense of purpose. Downstairs, a cafe called Nourish is open to all — a place to eat, work, or linger. Upstairs, Recharge is reserved for women: a Finnish sauna, a cold plunge, a mineral bath, a microbubble bath, and an outdoor terrace where movement classes take place and people gather at their own pace.
Anastasiia Cheong built this because she stopped believing wellness should come in separate boxes. A gymnast from the age of four, she spent roughly twenty-four years in the sport before coaching in Singapore and eventually stepping away in 2025 to open her first business. What gymnastics gave her wasn't just discipline — it was the memory of athletes sitting together after training, talking, recovering in company. She wanted to recreate that feeling for ordinary women, not elite performers, and not at the price of a luxury hotel.
The renovation was substantial. Cheong received the keys in late September 2025, navigated months of regulatory approvals, and moved through demolition and construction before opening in May. The fit-out cost roughly $800,000 in total, with the most technically demanding work being the installation of pools on the upper floor, which required structural reinforcement the original building wasn't designed to provide.
Inside, she rejected the clinical look of a sports facility entirely. Pastel colours, curved forms, a pink neon installation, timber-lined sauna interiors, and cool blue lighting around the plunge pool create an atmosphere that is warm rather than austere. There are no strict time limits. Women move between facilities as they choose.
The visitors who come are mostly in their thirties and forties, drawn by different needs — physical recovery, time with friends, or simply a few hours of unhurried space. Downstairs, the cafe menu balances wellness-conscious dishes with more indulgent options, and a small library invites people to take a book or leave one. The name comes from Cheong's favourite flower, a symbol of rebirth — and the word Project was chosen deliberately, because she never wanted this place to feel finished.
A short walk from Holland Village MRT, up a flight of stairs, the noise of the neighbourhood falls away. The Calla Project occupies two storeys in what was once a hair salon. Downstairs, Nourish opens its doors to anyone—a cafe for eating, working, lingering. Upstairs, Recharge is reserved for women: a Finnish sauna, a cold plunge held at twelve to fifteen degrees Celsius, a mineral bath, a microbubble bath, and an outdoor terrace where movement classes happen and people gather.
Anastasiia Cheong, twenty-nine, built this place because she stopped seeing wellness as separate boxes. Movement, recovery, food, connection—she wanted them under one roof so someone could take a class, plunge into cold water, eat lunch, and meet a friend without driving across the city. It's a deliberate architecture, not accidental.
Cheong spent roughly twenty-four years as a gymnast, starting at four years old, then coached the sport in Singapore before stepping away in 2025 to open this, her first business. Gymnastics taught her that recovery matters as much as training. But her strongest memories weren't about performance. They were about the spaces where athletes sat together, talked, relaxed. She wanted to build that feeling for ordinary women—not elite athletes, not the intimidating performance gym, not the luxury hotel wellness suite that costs what a car payment costs. Something accessible. Something that felt less clinical and more like a place where you belonged.
The property itself needed work. The original staircase sat on the opposite side; the layout made the space feel cramped. Cheong relocated it, reconfigured the circulation, and spent almost six months turning the old salon into what it is now. She received the keys in late September 2025, waited for regulatory approvals, then moved through site prep in January, demolition in February, and renovation starting in early March. The day before opening in May, she was still finishing details. The renovation alone cost roughly four hundred thousand dollars. Equipment, kitchen, changing rooms, furniture, electrical work—another four hundred thousand. Eight hundred thousand total.
The hardest part was building the pools on the third floor, which required structural reinforcement and safety considerations that older buildings don't always accommodate easily. The kitchen and changing facilities were built from scratch. Everything else got a substantial overhaul.
Inside, Cheong rejected the clinical look of a sports facility. Pastel colours throughout. Curved forms that soften edges. A pink neon installation that became one of the most recognisable features. Timber-lined sauna interiors sit beside cool blue lighting around the plunge and bath. The outdoor terrace offers another place to sit, away from the treatment spaces. There's no strict time limit. Cheong wanted women to move between facilities at their own pace, not feel rushed through a prescribed circuit.
The visitors who come are mostly women in their thirties and forties, though their reasons vary. Some come after training for physical recovery. Others come to spend time with friends, to relax, to carve out a few hours alone. The sauna and magnesium bath are the most popular. The cold plunge, kept deliberately not extreme, often produces what Cheong describes as giggles and squeals on hot days—it becomes fun rather than intimidating.
Downstairs at Nourish, the menu reflects the same philosophy: balance without restriction. Wellness-conscious dishes sit alongside more indulgent options. Guests linger after their recovery session, working on laptops, reading, meeting friends. A small library lets people take a book or leave one behind. The name itself—The Calla Project—comes from Cheong's favourite flower, which symbolises rebirth, beauty, purity. She chose the word Project deliberately because she never wanted the space to feel finished or static, but something that could keep growing, keep changing. Cheong was raised in Russia by a Russian mother and Singaporean father, moved to Singapore after university to reconnect with her heritage, and has lived here nearly seven years. This is what she built.
Citations marquantes
I see wellness as a combination of movement, recovery, nutrition and connection rather than separate things— Anastasiia Cheong, founder
We don't believe wellness should mean restriction— Anastasiia Cheong, on Nourish's menu philosophy