Want to Network in Silicon Valley? Bring a Bathing Suit

When tens of thousands of software engineers, tech enthusiasts and salesmen descended on San Francisco for the annual Salesforce megaconference in September, startup founder Jari Salomaa had an idea: What if he rented out a sauna?

Salomaa was looking to pitch his startup Valo, which has built an artificial-intelligence tool that helps users on Salesforce’s platform. But an anti-alcohol movement that’s sweeping through the tech industry is disrupting work gatherings that revolve around drinking or eating. That’s leading Salomaa and others to try “social saunas,” where networking happens inside a steamy 200-degree box. In bathing suits.

The experience can take some getting used to. Bathrobes and bikinis can be distracting. It’s also very sweaty.

But investors and venture capitalists say it’s refreshing to have someplace other than a bar to gather and that business is getting done everywhere from a pop-up sauna in a Napa vineyard, to an 80-person sauna in New York.

Salomaa, 46, grew up in Finland where the sauna was part of everyday life and at his first job for Nokia in Helsinki, saunas were built inside the offices.

“There are more saunas than cars in Finland,” he said. “As many saunas as toilets.”

Still, he worried how Americans would react to hanging out in their bathing suits for a corporate event. “Scandinavians are more at ease with body images than the average American,” he said.

He thought about having one event for women and another for men, but the planning soon got complicated. In the end, Salomaa decided on a sort of social experiment: a coed gathering in San Francisco. He wound up with a wait list of 100 guests.

Salomaa imposed some sauna etiquette—bathing suits required and stay hydrated. And he started the event like any other investor pitch, by giving a PowerPoint presentation to an audience clad in bathrobes.

Attendees shared images of the event on social media, and soon Salomaa was fielding calls from friends in the tech industry, asking how they could do a similar event. He’s eager to help, but maintains some reservation about moving too much work inside the sauna.

“If it’s all talk about work, it kind of kills the vibe,” he said.

New social saunas have popped up in San Francisco, New York and Colorado this year.

They are built with stadium seating to fit more people—usually around 20 to 40 people—and conversation is often encouraged.

At Othership, a new sauna facility that opened in New York City’s Flatiron district in July, the sauna can fit up to 90 people. Lined with ambient lighting that can switch from warm red to neon pink, the sauna looks more like a nightclub than a place of tranquility.

Founder Robbie Bent, 40, said young tech founders make up a large part of his clientele. “They want to be healthier, meet like-minded people, and often don’t want to be out late,” he said.

The company hosts founder nights, as well as events for investors and founders to mingle. Othership says tech companies big and small are considering offering its services as a benefit to employees.

Othership has also offered to organise complimentary “team sweats” as team-building exercises. But according to Bent, they received pushback from human resources at companies across tech and Wall Street. Colleagues congregating in bathing suits wasn’t going to fly.

In response to these critiques, Bent designed a “corporate swimsuit”—basically a full-body rashguard for people to wear in the sauna.

Will Drescher, 29, built a social sauna in Boulder, Colo., after going to one in Minneapolis this year. “Neither me nor my co-founder drink,” said Drescher. “And we just thought, why don’t we have this?”

They built Portal, a “more DIY” option than the saunas popping up in New York and San Francisco, said Drescher.

“We wanted to bridge what’s happening in the coasts with what we’re seeing in the middle of the country,” said Drescher.

Venture investor Helene Servillon, 35, proposed a meeting with a founder of a tech company at Portal.

The meeting lasted an hour, which allowed them to cycle in and out of the sauna for three sessions. After learning more about the startup, Servillon said she plans to invest in it soon.

“VCs socialise a lot. If we only have two options—have a drink or a meal—that can just get really exhausting,” she said. When founders or investors ask to meet for happy hour these days, she will often counter-propose with a sauna or a hike.

Fintech investor Sheel Mohnot, 42, co-hosted an August social sauna event in San Francisco and attended an investor event in Napa, where a mobile sauna was wheeled on to the vineyard.

“The reality is there are always chances for people to feel uncomfortable, and more people are feeling that way about drinking,” Mohnot said. “We just didn’t have great sauna options here before.”

Not all tech workers have bought in. Laila Danielsen, chief executive of an AI software company, was invited to a social sauna event in October. She enjoyed the event and the environment it provided to have conversations, but she didn’t go into the hotbox.

“I don’t know if I’d necessarily put on my bikini to go out and pitch a VC, you know what I mean?” the 55-year-old said. “I’ll consider meeting them at the sauna after we close the deal.”

Every year, thousands of Australians make the decision to pack up life overseas and come home.

After years, sometimes decades, building careers, accumulating assets, and growing families in places like Dubai, London, Singapore, or Hong Kong, the pull back is understandable.

What most don’t appreciate until it’s too late is that the return journey is often far more financially complex than the departure.

Leaving Australia is, financially speaking, a relatively clean event.

You depart, you potentially become a non-resident for tax purposes, and a new set of rules applies.

Coming back, however, means reconciling everything you’ve accumulated offshore with an Australian tax system that hasn’t been standing still waiting for you.

The Tax Residency Trap

The first and most costly mistake is misunderstanding when Australian tax residency resumes.

Many returning expats assume residency only kicks in once they’ve formally re-established themselves, signed a lease, updated their address, started a job. The ATO doesn’t see it that way.

Under Australian tax law, residency can recommence the moment you land with the intention of remaining. That means any taxable events, investment income, asset disposals, foreign account distributions that occur after that point are potentially assessable in Australia, even if they’re sitting in offshore accounts you haven’t touched.

Superannuation: The Clock Doesn’t Stop

One of the most underappreciated issues for returning expats is what’s been happening inside their superannuation fund while they’ve been away.

Contributions may have paused, but fees, insurance premiums, and investment volatility haven’t. Some returning clients are genuinely shocked by how much ground their super has lost to fees during periods of lower balances or inappropriate investment settings.

The more strategic issue is what to do on the way back. If you hold foreign pension arrangements, a UK SIPP or QROPS, a 401(k), and international savings schemes, the question of whether and how to repatriate those funds requires careful planning before you return.

Once you’re a tax resident again, distributions from certain foreign structures can be assessable as ordinary income, and the window to manage that exposure closes.

Offshore Investments Don’t Disappear

Returning to Australia doesn’t sever your obligations in the countries where you’ve been living.

Foreign-held shares, managed funds, or investment accounts will be picked up by Australian tax reporting requirements from the moment residency resumes.

The Foreign Investment Fund rules, transferor trust provisions, and the reporting obligations under Australia’s tax information exchange agreements mean these holdings need to be declared and, in some cases, restructured.

Leaving investments sitting offshore in structures that made sense as a non-resident but create compliance headaches as a resident is one of the most common and expensive mistakes we see.

The restructuring cost, if it’s even possible post-return, typically dwarfs what it would have cost to plan properly in advance.

Property: Both Sides of the Balance Sheet

There are two distinct property problems for returning expats.

The first is what they’ve held while away, an Australian property rented out during the absence.

Depending on how long the property was the main residence and how it was treated during the rental period, the CGT calculation on eventual sale can be complex.

The six-year absence rule provides some relief, but it’s not automatic and has conditions that are frequently misunderstood.

The second is re-entry into the Australian property market.

After years of asset accumulation offshore, many returnees assume they’re well-positioned to buy.

The challenge is that their financial picture, including foreign income history, offshore assets and currency, doesn’t translate neatly into Australian mortgage serviceability.

Lenders read foreign income conservatively, and what looks like a strong balance sheet can create unexpected borrowing capacity issues.

The Fix: Plan Before You Land

The single most effective thing an expat can do is start planning the return 12 to 18 months before departure.

That timeline allows for managed asset disposals under non-resident rules where advantageous, superannuation catch-up strategies, foreign structure rationalisation, and property decisions that aren’t being made under time pressure.

The irony is that most Australians sought financial advice before they left on how to exit cleanly.

Far fewer seek the same rigour on the way back in. Given the complexity involved, that’s an expensive oversight.

Coming home should be a financial clean slate. With the right planning, it can be. Without it, you’ll spend the first few years back unwinding decisions that didn’t have to be problems at all.

Brett Evans is the founder of Atlas Wealth and the author of The Expat’s Handbook.