The only thing worse than people who love private members’ clubs are the people that poke fun at them.
They make themselves easy victims, I’ll admit. Particularly the McDonalds of private member clubs, Soho House. But that’s why whenever you’re faced with a Hattie rambling on about the “creative, bohemian vibe” the £3,000 a year club has, or how “it’s like so exclusive and discreet”, you grit your teeth and be the bigger person. You certainly don’t say something like, “discretion doesn’t matter Hattie, because nobody knows who you are and hardly anyone knew who your grandmother was, either. And it can’t be that discreet because you’ve been going on about it for half an hour.” That would be childish.
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