Building a business that also helps underprivileged women 'an uphill task' but these Singaporeans have done it

A local survey by entrepreneurship experts e27 reported that 30 per cent of startups here fail within the first two to five years. 

It tells you one thing about building a successful business in Singapore: It’s the farthest thing from a walk in the park. 

Yet, at least two Singaporean businesses have not only survived their first five years, they have done so out of a passion for doing social good and not – or at least not in their early days – for profit. 

One of them is Studio Gypsied, a made-to-order batik brand started by 35-year-old Aqilah Zailan. 

Aqilah was a “pattern and puzzle-solving child”, whose Polly Pocket playset drew her in with its bright colours and fun characters, inspiring her “to imagine a whole new world”.

But when Aqilah was 10, she lost her older sister to cerebral palsy. “I never had any more dreams after because I was consumed by grief,” she told CNA Women, adding that she later grew up favouring “quiet play”.

Still, she kept an ear out for stories, particularly those told by her father, who had an entrepreneurial streak.

“In the early days of his career, my father worked as a storeman. During this time, he realised his gift for empathic listening and problem-solving, and to earn extra income, he sold products on the side, anything from watches and sewing machines to even makeup. 

“He inspired in me a love for lesser known but good-quality brands like the Korean makeup brand Kanebo and the homegrown watch brand Alba. 

“He was always talking to me about becoming an entrepreneur so he could have more time with family and I always listened intently,” she told CNA Women.

Aqilah worked nine-to-five jobs in the retail industry for several years before she decided to start Studio Gypsied as a side hustle in 2011. 

She had realised by then that she favoured fashion as a form of self-expression and believed there was a place in Singapore for a brand that was “personal, unique and meaningful”. 

In 2021, she took a leap of faith and made it a full-time venture. 

Studio Gypsied, which started out selling clothes, bags and even notebooks featuring Aqilah’s hand-drawn batik designs inspired by her Javanese heritage, has evolved over the years into a decidedly “slow fashion” apparel brand.

Today, Studio Gypsied offers a range of clothing from its signature open jackets to culottes and cascade skirts, sold exclusively on a pre-order basis. Her clothes range from S$109 to S$209 a piece and work begins only after a customer has paid in full and fulfilment can take up to a month.

“This encourages thoughtful purchases and minimises fashion waste, aligning with our principles of sustainable fashion,” Aqilah writes on the website.

It was a decision that came from years of on-the-ground research, intimate conversations with independent makers and ultimately, an inherent passion to leave behind a legacy of good. 

“AN UPHILL TASK”

As slow fashion “goes against the grain of how the fashion industry and its supply chain is set up”, remaining committed to the mission has been “an uphill task”, Aqilah told CNA Women. 

Among the challenges she has faced: Finding production houses willing to produce in small quantities, as well as educating customers on why her clothes are priced at a premium and why they have to wait weeks for their purchase to finally reach their doorstep. 

The entrepreneur, who is a fourth-generation Javanese, remains committed to also protecting “heritage guardians” – artisans who possess knowledge and skill of a dying craft – and helping them, specifically disadvantaged women, earn a decent wage. 

Aqilah works with small groups of tailors, and more recently, began dedicating all of her tailoring expenses towards the training and development of a group of Afghan refugee women now based in Indonesia.

“I have a passion for telling the stories of people who are lesser-heard and lesser-known, though I am naturally drawn to stories of women,” said Aqilah. 

IT ALL STARTED WITH A BOOK

Like Aqilah, Randall Chong did not start out wanting to help improve gender equity. In fact, he was scarcely aware that it was a problem – until a friend gave him a book for Christmas in 2016. 

At the time, Chong had been feeling burnt out and restless, having worked several years helping tech startups expand – a career that demanded endless travel and at one point, a relocation to Bangkok, a city known for operating at breakneck speed.

In the book, the friend had scribbled a note: “Instead of coming up with New Year’s resolutions, do one thing that scares you next year.”

Chong, who admitted he had never been one for risk-taking, took it as a personal challenge and in December the following year, took a sabbatical from work and embarked on a solo trek across the Himalayas. His goal? To reach the Mount Everest Base Camp. 

“I was looking for solutions for my solitude and fear,” said Chong, who made friends with porters, and visited villages and schools, as he backpacked across Nepal. 

What he found instead were children, not in school, but out working back-breaking jobs “with little to no pay”. 

The plight of many Nepalese children is widely reported. According to a 2021 report on child labour in Nepal by the International Labour Organization, as of 2018, more than 1.1 million children in Nepal were taking on labour-intensive – and sometimes even derogatory – work.

Among them: Long shifts in carpet, brick and garment factories, domestic work for the more affluent and serving customers in bars and clubs. 

Having witnessed much of this first-hand, Chong knew he needed to help and could tap on his business education and experience to do so. 

He started small – finding ways to raise money, including selling his own books on Carousell, to send to his contacts in Nepal. Selling books, he later realised, was the fastest and easiest way to reach his goal and in 2018, Books Beyond Borders was established as a social enterprise in Singapore. 

He rented out a space in an industrial building along Jalan Pemimpin, once a manufacturer of vanilla essence, and conceptualised a “hidden bookstore” there. 

With its metal shelves stocked with popular titles, a small sofa set-up, mood-lighting, outsize photos of Chong’s trips to Nepal and colourful banners reminiscent of the country’s iconic prayer flags, it was a book lover’s dream – and a blissful escape from the hubbub outside. 

Despite the challenges of the COVID-19 pandemic, Chong persisted, choosing not to pay himself a salary, and dedicated 100 per cent of his net profit towards his cause. 

The hole-in-the-wall bookstore quickly became a viral sensation. 

And as a result, not only was Books Beyond Borders able to fund a school bag distribution programme, it also helped raise money for supplies to support school libraries, art classes and even STEM labs in Nepal. 

To date, the social enterprise has raised more than S$37,000 towards these efforts, which required Chong to work closely with nonprofit organisation Teach for Nepal, whose fellows are employed in some of the most underfunded schools across the country.

It was this partnership that drew his attention to a “critical gap” in Nepal’s education system: The absence of a scholarship programme for girls completing 10th grade. 

“Most girls in Nepal, after completing their 10th grade schooling, lack the means to pursue higher secondary education and are often expected to start raising a family,” said Chong.

“This perpetuates the cycle of poverty.

“By bridging this gap and enabling more girls to attend school, the likelihood of their future generation receiving an education increases,” he added.

Chong announced this year that Books Beyond Borders was narrowing its philanthropic focus to helping young Nepalese women achieve higher education, specifically by donating 5 per cent of its monthly profits to the scholarship programme.

At around the same time, he opened The Bookstore by Books Beyond Borders, a more sophisticated outpost along Erskine Road in Chinatown that he hopes will make the cause more accessible, “especially considering the (recent) closure of numerous independent bookstores and our beloved Book Depository”.

He still maintains his space at Jalan Pemimpin, where he occasionally organises warehouse sales, with books going for as low as a dollar. And he continues to run much of the business’ operations alone.

“It’s been good,” he told CNA Women, of the opening of The Bookstore in July. “We’ve been able to attract new customers we weren’t able to reach before, such as tourists."

When asked if he had any advice for other businesses or aspiring entrepreneurs hoping to pivot to or focus on making a positive social impact, he said: “Think about how you can balance both profit and purpose right from the get-go. You cannot give from an empty cup.”

Ultimately, said Chong, "I am grateful to wake up every morning and get to do something I'm passionate about."