“Sauna culture is like dumplings: It’s everywhere,” says Leonid Khanin, project manager of World Spa, a new 50,000-square-foot mega-spa in Brooklyn. Khanin, an architect whose resume includes designing libraries and museums internationally, has the fresh, glowing complexion of someone who spent the last five years designing the largest bathroom in New York City.
On December 8, World Spa opened in a massive new postmodern Brutalist building (concrete with Scandinavian wood cladding) in a former parking lot in suburban Midwood. In its first week, more than a thousand visitors walked through what Kanin called “the glittering gateway to pleasure” (the front door). The spa barely needed any advertising — the women of TikTok did it for them.
The three floors of the complex offer spa treatments inspired by traditions from around the world, including a Moroccan hammam, an Eastern European steam room, a Japanese seawater onsen, and a snow room that mimics the Finnish tradition of sledding on fresh snow. Treatments range from traditional CBD-infused facials and body massages to more exotic concepts like venik-platsa, an ancient Russian bath ritual that involves tying leaves from aromatic branches into bundles for detoxification. There are three dining options on site, with menus including coffee tiramisu with caviar, truffle grilled cheese, chia seed pudding, cherry pie, and something called “beer jerky.” This self-proclaimed wellness oasis is a one-stop shop, offering a wide range of services at affordable prices. Four hours of use cost $85 (Monday-Thursday before 4pm), $100 (Monday-Thursday after 4pm) or $115 (Friday-Sunday and holidays). Each additional hour costs $25.
A woman on my Explore Instagram page invited me to “come to World Spa.” As I watched a woman in a hooded robe share a bowl of edamame with a friend before stepping into a eucalyptus steam room followed by infrared light therapy, I was reminded of a passage from Rem Koolhaas’s 1978 manifesto, “Mad New York,” which describes a 534-foot-tall building with a Turkish bath, swimming pool, massage parlor, tanning station, restaurant, and a luxurious lounge where men can escape the city’s bustle and eat oysters naked. Koolhaas says the “full range of institutions [repairing] the human body” and the “fantastic combination of their activities” create “an endlessly unpredictable conspiracy that celebrates total surrender to the absolute precariousness of urban life.”
Could World Spa help me surrender completely to the uncertainty of city life? I had to try. So on Thursday afternoon, I hurriedly shaved most of my body hair and took an Uber to 1571 McDonald Avenue. I plan to surrender for 4 hours. OK……
At 4 p.m., I headed to Eastern Europe. The small bathroom had been made in Russia and then shipped to Brooklyn in a container. “This is one of the cleanest bathrooms you’ll ever find,” Kanin said, stroking a wall of crystallized pine from a Finnish bog. He opened the Brazilian stone housing of a German heater and poured water on the stone, which can withstand temperatures 25 times greater than ordinary stone. Velvety warmth filled the salon. “This is something special,” Kanin said, “but if you want something special…” We walked down the hall to the Great Bathroom, the largest bathroom in North America. The notebook got too hot for a minute, and I made the mistake of burning my hand and touching the metal clip of the pen cap.
16:15 After your shower, to cool off, you can (a) splash your face with crushed ice, (b) pull a rope to release a stream of icy water, (c) step into a glass snow room where a ski machine sprays out tons of fresh powder, or (d) jump into a cold pool. Kanin loves the pool, but says, “There are too many hippies swimming in there. They’re like, ‘Great! It’s an anti-inflammatory,’ but guys…” Three minutes max.
16:20 The Himalayan Salt Room features transparent walls made from three types of international salt (Siberian, Himalayan and Polish) and panels with microclimates from the thousand-year-old Wieliczka Salt Mine. Loungers are arranged on a bed of pink salt crystals under the cleansing breeze of a medical salt generator. Inhaling salt aerosol can reduce inflammation, increase serotonin levels and improve immunity, due to negative ions and osmotic pressure. A guest in a Speedo hit a gong hanging by the door.
16:45 Outside the Clay & Hay sauna, Khanin grabs a tablet. “Music is key,” he says, playing intense ambient music he calls “iconic and Nordic.” The sauna is a dark, womb-like space with thick adobe walls, reminiscent of Central American sweat lodges. Over the sound of drums, Khanin says we’ve been transported back thousands of years, when sweat lodges were used to cleanse the body and soul. He hopes it will feel spiritual. He wants to teach his staff to recite poetry.
5:00 PM The infrared sauna features a curved alder bench with therapeutic light sticks positioned perfectly behind the spine. Regular exposure to infrared light is thought to help treat a variety of health issues, including high blood pressure, arthritis, and even dementia. Kanin suggests finding a specific spot on the bench to take a selfie. Since the weather was dry and mild, I stayed nearby while three Russian men in their 30s told me about the telepathic rabbi who was the father of their fiancée.
17:45 For a heat wave, head to a hammam in Morocco or Turkey. “You don’t want to know how hard it was to get those tiles from Marrakech,” Kanin said of one of the gleaming, all-mosaic rooms. With humidity reaching 80 percent, a young woman photographs a Carrara marble chromotherapy ball sculpture. I peered into a private hammam, where guests reclined on plush stone slabs and enjoyed steaming black seed soaps, lime mud masks, body scrubs, aromatic oils, and more.
At 6:00 p.m., I lay face down on a wooden frame and underwent a venichnik, a traditional Russian bathhouse procedure in which the body is rhythmically beaten with birch branches to improve blood circulation and capillary activity in the epidermis. My massage therapist (the same one who did Keith Richards, only Keith Richards had more collagen) had immigrated from Ukraine three months earlier and didn’t speak much English, but I was sure he understood me. Yaroslav gently placed a bunch of cold oak leaves on my face. He patted and stroked my thighs with the leaves, slowly massaging them up my spine. I imagined myself driving down the road. It was exciting and magical. After about 10 to 30 minutes, Yaroslav poured a bucket of water over my head and led me into a pool of cold water. I was anxiously awaiting the cold water, but the masseuse answered with a simple, wise “yes,” and, as a newbie, led me into the 105-degree water. We rolled around together for a while, and then the word “rebirth” came to mind. Yaroslav led me to the Himalayan salt room. “Five minutes,” he said, stepping on salt crystals. I later learned from translated information that stimulating acupressure points on the soles of your feet can release energy blockages throughout your body.
19:00 The onsen room is a circle of small hot springs of varying temperatures, inspired by Japanese onsen. You’re supposed to walk around three pools to experience the contrast between hot and cold water, but since there was a couple cuddling in the hot pool, I practiced deep breathing in the 52-degree pool.
19:45 I’ve been rushing for too long and am late for my Ultimate Platinum HydraFacial and HydroPeptide Booster. The therapist is efficient. She expertly performs three toning treatments, a steam and lymphatic massage, then introduces me to the latest in Syndeo’s intelligent facial technology. The congestion in my T-zone is programmed into a $50,000 touchscreen computer. A straw sucks out my pores. A bottle of what’s called a booster infuses my skin with Tasmania lanceolata leaf extract and glucosamine hydrochloride. Finally, the therapist pulls out a bottle from her machine. “I’m going to show you what’s on your face now,” she says, handing a measuring bottle filled with cloudy liquid to a line marked “Is It Very Slippery Today?”
At 9pm, I had planned to try wagyu beef at the hotel’s Michelin-starred restaurant, but after the exfoliation I was feeling relaxed and hankering for vegetarian food, so I decided to grab a bite to eat near the sauna. Still in my robe and wool sauna cap/World Spa bath cap (obsession), I ordered a beet salad with goat cheese and pecan dressing, avocado hummus, pita bread, and a freshly squeezed turmeric-carrot-ginger juice. Nearby, Russian friends in the infrared sauna were serving chicken gnocchi.
10:45 PM I’m crossing the East River back into town, my face slathered in hyaluronic acid-rich antioxidant serum, the last of the hummus in a takeout bag on my lap. It was so good, I couldn’t stop eating it.
Subscribe to Vogue’s Beauty newsletter to get all the insider beauty and health guides
The Vogue Runway app just got bigger! Update to the latest version to access all of Vogue’s content, plus new features like Runway Genius quizzes, group chats, and posts from Vogue writers.
© 2025 Condé Nast. All rights reserved. Vogue may earn a share of sales from products purchased through our site as part of our partnerships with retailers. The material on this site may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, cached or otherwise used, except with the prior written permission of Condé Nast. Advertising Choices