These are the smartest new private members club’s in London

An article about clubs, you say? Well, here comes the obligatory quote from old Groucho Marx. “I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.” And quite right, too. But these days, as you may have noticed, old Groucho would scarcely have a choice in the matter. In 2022, everything is a members club, even if it isn’t. Your moisturiser. Your office space. Your reading interests. Your beer habits. Your marriage.

Something to do with a heightened urge for belonging in an increasingly fragmented and confusing world, one suspects; or a new in-group out-group mentality for millennials distrustful of traditional status symbols; or the sardine-like overcrowding of London’s hospitality scene; or perhaps simply an evocation of that finest Mean Girls sentiment: “You can’t sit with us.”

And so, in the past year alone, we have been blessed with a blossoming cornucopia of new members clubs in the capital — each with a unique flavour, distinct crowd, and Groucho-grade insouciance of their very own. Here are the five worth name-dropping this spring.

‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,’ said Jack Nicholson before things got a little axe-y up at the Overlook Hotel. (Nowadays, of course, the place would be a highly exclusive après ski and fondue club, and the axe throwing would be corporate.) Thankfully, down at Pavilion (where, full disclosure, I am to be found almost every single weekday) they’ve got the work-life balance spot on. You can beaver away downstairs in the basement, which is cleverly lined with private booths (evocative of mid-century railway carriages) and a hodgepodge of lovely desks; or, come twilight, you can scarf rarebits and continental lagers on the lovely roof terrace which overlooks Hyde Park. (There are chunkier, more permanent office options on the floors between, too.) The best bit, perhaps, is the grand atrium-restaurant that opens up before you once you trot through the colonnaded doors — like some exquisite bank lobby in heaven, with houseplants as big as, well, houses.

Location: Knightsbridge, Kensington and the City.

Cost: £250 a month, plus one off £500 joining fee. And for that, you get access to all three joints.

The least knowable of all the new venues in this cohort — chiefly because it doesn’t open until April. But the signs so far at The Twenty Two are promising. The name doesn’t refer to the year (that’s a happy coincidence), nor to Joseph Heller’s Catch-22, which is a shame. Instead, it’s about the spot itself — sat at 22 Grosvenor Square over a gargantuan 42,500 square feet, and clad in gleaming, dove grey marble. A hotel-meets-restaurant-meets-club-meets-creative salon, the decor is inspired by 18th Century Parisian pomp. Good food planned, too, I’m told, and a happy buzz gathering already.

Location: Grosvenor Square, Mayfair

Cost: TBC

One hates to be reductive on anything quite as beautiful and meticulously put together as Maison Estelle. But I have heard it described several times now as some sort of hybrid between Hertford Street’s clubbability and the slouchy, creative edge of prime 1990s Soho House. Whether that’s by design or not, I don’t know — but this, to many in the capital right now, is one heck of a sweet spot. Put together by Sharan Pasricha and the team at Ennismore (they’re the string-pullers behind Gleneagles and the Hoxton, you’ll remember), this is a no-expense-spared delight, sat in a Grade-1 listed Georgian pile down on Grafton Street. The staff are wonderful, the food is lovely, the crowd is lively, curious and connected — it’s a bit of a slam dunk, really.

Location: Grafton Street, Mayfair

Cost: POA, naturally

Now it’s time to party like it’s 1979! The legendary Langan’s, recently resurrected by hospitality honchos James Hitchen and Graziano Arricale, has been an absolute joy for those of us convinced we were born into the wrong era. The restaurant itself is joyous and enveloping, and exquisitely finished in shades of clubby green. But it’s Upstairs where things get really riotous, in a slinky sea of red velvet, red ceilings and mirrored walls. It’s brilliant, and deliciously different to any other rooms in London I know of. The form here is a little different: there’s no application process and no fees. But if you’re charming and interesting and good company, you may well get the call up by the powers that be.

Location: Stratton Street, Mayfair

Cost: It doesn’t really work like that…

Tally ho! What what! If ever PG Wodehouse’s Drones was to be re-incarnated for 2022, I’d wager it’d be a lot like the good old Fitzdares Club, down on Davies Street. And wagering, while we’re on the subject, is sort of the name of the game here. This is the grand bookmaker Fitzdares made flesh, you see, with high definition televisions mingling nicely with the kilim wallpaper, and racing beamed live and direct into the clubhouse whenever possible. But it’s also a place of genuine hospitality and good fun, even if you don’t quite feel like a flutter — Will Woodhams (a Wodeshouse character if ever I saw one) is the ebullient man of the house, and keeps the atmosphere bubbling away nicely among a very good set. Oh, and the food’s excellent, too.

Location: Davies Street, Mayfair

Cost: £600 per year

Read next: Through the side door: The art of reciprocal club membership

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