Inside Zoi Vendôme, the Paris Wellness Sanctuary Redefining Medical Care
Designed by Mexico City firm Sala Hars, the 20,000-square-foot flagship trades sterile corridors for sculptural suites, volcanic stone onsens, and a patient-first ethos
In the shadow of Paris’s prestigious Place Vendôme, a discreet black door in a Haussmannian façade opens into a 20,000-square-foot sanctuary casting a positive light on the design of wellness spaces. Conceived by entrepreneur Paul Dupuy as part of a mission to put patient experience at the heart of preventive care, Zoi Vendôme is approaching today’s booming wellness culture through an architectural lens that jettisons the soulless anonymity of standard clinics in favor of atmospherically rich spaces that spark curiosity and engage every sense.
The Paris flagship marks a monumental health-sector debut for Mexico City studio Sala Hars, an eight-year-old firm known for conjuring Michelin-starred omakase joints, luxury boutiques, and bold museum extensions with an eye for clarity and historical reverence. Founders Juan Sala and Douglas Harsevoort, who both studied architecture at Harvard and worked at Herzog & de Meuron and Johnston Marklee before establishing the firm, viewed this uncharted terrain as an opportunity to “create an environment to which a member would want to come back”—a reversal of the medical sphere’s typical “the faster you’re out, the better” mindset.
Their solution was “Neon-Baroque,” a novel design language that distills Baroque theatricality through a contemporary lens. “What inspired us most from the Baroque was its unique condition of impossibility,” Sala explains of the style’s symmetry, drama, and use of light and shadow. “We searched for those conditions in a contemporary way, hiding all thicknesses of materials, of assemblies, almost creating an impossible, plastic architecture—extremely immaterial and material at the same time.”
The journey whisks patients through a luminous colonnaded vestibule where angled wood panels frame a central white walkway, its surface washed in diffuse ambient light. Warm timber tones lend a ceremonial sense of procession that immediately distances visitors from the bustle outside. From here, calm corridors and softly curved transitional spaces beckon inward, plaster walls catching washes of light that subtly dim with each step. Eighteen private examination suites—elliptical rotundas lined in finely grained wood—place the bed at the center like sculpture, with medical equipment concealed in integrated cabinetry and hidden drawers. “At no point shall it feel like prior experiences,” Harsevoort says. “Every examination is brought to you, not you to the room.”
After check-ups, ceilings compress, colors warm, and light dims as the route leads to two Japanese-inspired onsens carved from volcanic stone—one airy and reflective, the other cave-like—both lined in black stone and washed in moody, theatrical light. “For the onsens, it was important to have natural light, but directed,” says Sala. “It’s a darker space of contemplation and restoration.” Envisioned as decompression chambers, they encourage a final exhale before returning to the city.
Materiality underpins this sensory shift. Zoi Vendôme employs volcanic stone for its warmth underfoot and mineral scent, textured plasters whose matte surfaces diffuse light and soften acoustics, and solid wood that releases a subtle aroma and acquires patina with age. “Materials were chosen for their ability to invite touch without fear and anxiety, and to fulfill clinical roles without becoming a vitrine of sterility,” Harsevoort says—a focus shaped by the firm’s restaurant and retail work. “In hospitality and fashion, the goal is to evoke desire or create an emotional memory. In healthcare, it’s different but not opposite. We designed for calmness, trust, and serenity, while still generating the desire to feel better.”
Zoi Vendôme arrives at a moment when preventive care is redefining what patients expect from their surroundings. Luxury hotels are rolling out medical-wellness programs while members-only clubs like Remedy Place and Continuum are reinventing social spaces as immersive self-care retreats meant to counteract white-coat syndrome. “The clinical should be rehumanized,” Harsevoort asserts. “In medical facilities of the next century, the whole journey should be tuned to the body’s psychology as much as its physiology—go from sterile to sensorial, and from fear to peace. Architecture has the power to do that.”
Sala Hars is also designing Zoi’s forthcoming London flagship. “Some might have thought we were taking a bold risk,” Dupuy says of commissioning the firm, a decision that ultimately exceeded his wildest expectations. “Everyone describes a space that is both sublime and deeply functional. This is architecture that goes beyond the visual to deliver a true experience.” If the Paris debut is any indication, Zoi proves the best medicine might just be good design.
