FSunday night in the north of England. On the ninth floor of the old Granada Studios, a very chic crowd drinks tequila and eats chips. Not Walkers from a bag, of course, but canapes of individual chips with cream and generous portions of caviar. A young woman—leather shorts, chunky boots, neon lime nails, an artfully messy bob—winks at me from the other side of a silver tray. “Oh, caviar. Very chic for Manchester“
The 48th member's Soho House club has caused quite a stir. Thirty years after Nick Jones opened the first club in Soho, London, the empire's first outpost in the north of England is raising eyebrows. An exclusive club in the city, described by AJP Taylor as “the only place in England that avoids our characteristic vice of snobbery.” (The home of the Guardian, after all.) An outdoor swimming pool on the roof, in a climate that was conducive to the development of the textile industry because rain created ideal cool and wet conditions for cotton spinning. Will this work?
A waiting list of 2,500 people – the highest of any Soho House in the world – suggests this is entirely possible. Fast forward a few hours to the party: I'm with my boss Andrew Carney, CEO of Soho House. The space is teeming with workers in hi-vis jackets and cleaners with mops, and the Primal Scream rider (bottles of spirits and jars of chamomile tea) is still setting up in the makeshift changing room, but Carney is convinced the timing is perfect. Born 30 miles away in Preston, he has seen Manchester “change dramatically and prosper dramatically. It has expanded physically and expanded its outlook. Hospitality has flourished, the creative industries have grown, universities are thriving and it seems that a lot of people who go to university are staying, which is great about the city.” Loyle Carner will perform at the second premiere tomorrow; When the Brit Awards move from London to the city's Co-op Live Arena in February, Soho House Manchester will host an after-party. “I think this will be one of our most successful houses,” Carney says.
Whether you've ever been to a Soho house or not, it has permeated your culture. You may have seen Carrie and Samantha sneaking into the rooftop pool of a New York club in Sex and the City. You may remember that Harry and Meghan had their first date at a London home. You may have heard the rumor that when the first house opened in Los Angeles, Kim Kardashian's application was rejected. (I asked; Soho House does not comment on members.) But the man at the top of the business who succeeded Nick Jones when founder retired in 2022 after treatment for prostate cancer, which he says “changed my perspective and focus,” he is a friendly and approachable 51-year-old, with a tattoo barely visible on the cuff of his black Henley top, pristine white trainers, zero appearance of a red velvet rope and grace. (Indeed, Guardian reader.) Unlike the extraordinary Jones, Carney is underrated. For example: He tells me he “loves running,” which means he recently ran a 155-mile, six-day ultramarathon across the Sahara and is training for an ultramarathon through the mountains of Colorado next year. It's “a good way to keep in shape,” he said.
What sets Soho House apart from the four-century tradition of members' clubs, rooted in the armchair-and-burgundy enclaves of Mayfair and Piccadilly, is its self-proclaimed identity as “for creative people”. It's both the stardust that can make membership feel like a golden ticket (in 1995, Jones foresaw that in modern culture everyone likes to see themselves as a “creative person”) and the ingredient that can throw people off. (To paraphrase critics: “TV people.”) The definition of creative people, Carney says, is broad. “AI is creative. Hospitality is creative. Anyone can apply and we have representatives from all industries.” Membership in Manchester, he says, is aimed at entrepreneurs. With dues starting at £1,200 a year (prices are the same for every home in the world, but lower for under-27s), membership is privileged, but “we try not to be exclusive,” says Carney. In Manchester, he will take part in a mentoring program that matches participants with local creatives from lower socio-economic or under-represented backgrounds, who are invited to panels, workshops and internal networking to expand their connections, confidence and experience.
In the late 90s, Soho House was filled with power breakfasts, boozy lunches and late-night revelries. This all still happens today, but Soho's homes have evolved as the way we all live has changed. The membrane between our work and life outside of work has become more porous; 24/7 technology has eliminated the possibility of ever disconnecting. The Soho House model – a third space that is neither work nor home, neither entirely public nor entirely private – has become a space that people gravitate towards.
“Because of Covid, this shift has become really noticeable,” Carney says. “People have gotten lonely. We're human and we like to be around other people. We've found that when companies have policies that allow people to work from home, many of our members choose to work in our clubs.” The attractiveness of this solution has actually become a problem, he says, and working at home is now “discouraged” from working all day. “Laptops in the morning, communication in the afternoon.” The “no phones” rule has had to change now that most of us can't bear to be separated from our devices: phones on desks are fine, but you can't take photos or make calls.
Wellness is the new hedonism. Fitness is no longer just about running 5K on the treadmill before you start working out; it's a conversation piece and an aesthetically sophisticated element of an ambitious lifestyle. “We all want to be healthier,” Carney says. “But if you go back five or six years, it was all about the cardiovascular system: you could run, row, whatever. But there's new science that tells us we need strength. We're still doing clubs, but now we have Reformer Pilates studios. khayit classespadel courts.” Contrast chambers with saunas and cold baths are in huge demand, reflecting the explosion of interest in wild swimming and pop-up saunas that have popped up across Britain over the past two years. The next area of growth is longevity. At Soho Farm in Oxfordshire, the Lazy Lab offers IV drips, 60-minute sessions in a hyperbaric oxygen therapy chamber and diagnostic tests to 'future proof' your health. “That’s what our members are telling us going forward,” Carney says.
But the future, at least according to Soho House, is not as demoralizingly virtuous as one might assume. Sticky toffee pudding remains their best-selling dessert worldwide. (“If we ever tried to take this dish off the menu anywhere, it would be anarchy,” a chef in a Manchester kitchen tells me.) “Our members love a good meal,” says Carney. “They're not necessarily eating healthier, but they're more concerned about where their food comes from.” (The plant product, he said, “has hit a plateau.”)
For all the talk about Gen Z abstaining from alcohol, drinking shows no signs of dying out. There are signs of restraint – Manchester's dessert menu has a mini two-shot 60ml espresso martini for £7 if you prefer an alternative to soda – and there is a “pocket of 26 to 30 year olds” who are drinking less, says Carney. But the broader trend is toward “clean” cocktails with fewer ingredients and sugar. A colorful, juice-filled cocktail with a mysterious name is old hat. “I understand, because if I go to a bar and I don’t understand the menu, it annoys me,” the bartender tells me. “A cocktail isn't cheap. If I'm spending money on a cocktail, I want to know that I'm going to like it.”
Soho House's signature cocktail is a picante: tequila, agave syrup, fresh lime juice, coriander leaves, garnished with chili pepper. In preparation for the opening party, a picante cart is prepared where you choose your favorite tequila and one of 15 chili peppers rated for heat and flavor. (I asked a very chic French bartender: he recommends the bright yellow Peruvian aji lemon.) Judging by Friday's party, the picant cart is going to be a hit. “In France we don't put chilli on everything, but in the UK you Love chili,” he says. (Also: tequila. The world's most popular spirit, now outselling vodka and gin – a trend imported from the US and now being felt across Britain and Europe.)
For the past five years, Soho House's financial troubles have dominated the headlines. The stock exchange listing in 2021 followed a torrid year with participants complaining about over-expansion and investors complaining about a lack of profitability. The business priorities of a public company and the demands of clients who valued exclusivity were at odds. In 2024, The Guardian named Soho House “a victim of his own success“
Why didn't you go to public work? “I wouldn’t say it didn’t work,” Carney says, his stubble barely visible. “We went public for all the right reasons, and this experience has helped us understand how to run a business.” But in August of this year the strategy was canceled. $2.7 billion deal with investors including actor Ashton Kutcher, taking it private again. “We're better as a private company,” Carney says. “We can slow down the growth a little and focus on making our existing members happy.” As founder, Jones is still heavily involved in all aspects of design and creative, and Carney talks to him constantly, but as CEO he runs the show, a job that sometimes includes “dragging our girls” (he has three, aged 18, 15 and 10) to pop into Soho Houses on the weekends. “I work hard.”
Christine Court OBE, co-founder of the Manchester International Festival in 2005 and member of the founding committee of Soho House Manchester, is at Friday's party. She can't wait to see Primal Scream – and get into the pool, which opens in a few weeks. “When we did the Manchester Arts Festival 20 years ago, people said, 'Oh, this won't work in Manchester. That's the thing about London,” she says. “But Manchester has changed dramatically.” It is, she notes, nothing less than a dynamic city: the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution and the suffragette movement. “Already on the committee I met a florist, a stylist, a club promoter – I made friends I would never have met. And because this is Manchester, it's not about famous people or people watching. It's about collaboration and friendship – and having a good time.”
