Pilates and movement studio
Needed class information and a booking flow that works on a phone between sessions.
Nakedcore is a Pilates and movement studio. Their customers do not sit down at a laptop to book a class. They decide in a gap: after work, on the bus, lying in bed at eleven at night, usually right after something reminded them they meant to start.
That decision has a short shelf life. If the class times take more than a few seconds to find, or if booking means sending a message and waiting until morning, the person closes the tab fully intending to come back. Most never do, and the studio never learns it happened.
The old setup asked people to hunt for the two things that mattered most: when the classes actually are, and how to get into one. Both sat a few taps deeper than they should have.
There was a second problem underneath it, and it was the quieter one. For a beginner, walking into a Pilates studio is an intimidating purchase. They are not only checking the timetable. They are working out whether they will be the least fit person in the room, whether they need to bring anything, whether it will be obvious they have never done this before. A site that only lists times answers none of that, and the people it loses are exactly the ones a studio most wants to reach.
The schedule is the front page, not a page you go and find. Class times are the first thing on screen. Not behind a menu, not two taps down. Someone opening the site at eleven at night wants one thing, and the layout hands it to them straight away.
Booking that finishes on a phone. The whole path from picking a class to being in it happens on the screen the person is already holding. No callback, no messages back and forth, no waiting for the studio to open. The gap between deciding and being booked is where this kind of business quietly loses people, so the job was to make that gap as short as it can be.
Class descriptions written for someone who has never done it. What the class actually is, who it suits, what to bring, what happens when you walk in. Plain language, no jargon. A confident regular does not need any of this. The nervous first-timer does, and that is the person who was leaving.
The intro offer where a new person will actually see it. For a studio, the first class is the whole sale. Everything after that is keeping them. So the trial sits in the path of a first-time visitor rather than parked on a pricing page they may never open.
Built for the phone first, then widened. Nearly all of this traffic arrives on a phone, often one-handed, usually in a hurry. Every decision, from the size of the booking button to how far you scroll before you reach a class time, was made for that screen and adapted upward rather than the other way round.
A calm look that matches the room. Generous spacing, quiet type, real photography. A studio selling a considered, unhurried experience cannot have a cluttered website. How it looks is part of what people are buying.
The studio now takes bookings around the clock without anyone there being involved. That was the point. A class booked at eleven at night is a class that used to depend on somebody remembering the next morning.
The questions that used to arrive as messages, what the class involves, whether it suits a beginner, what to bring, are answered on the page. So the people who do get in touch are already further along, and the ones who only needed reassurance book without needing to ask at all.
First-timers arrive knowing what to expect, which matters more in this business than it looks from the outside. The nervous beginner who books anyway is the customer a studio grows on.
It sits alongside Luma Aesthetic and L’Essence d’Épure in my work as the same lesson in a different industry. When the decision happens on a phone, late, inside a small window of intent, the website is not a brochure. It is the front desk.
Twenty minutes, free, no pressure. Tell me about your business and I'll give you a clear plan.
