Originally published by the Guardian, Friday 14 May 2010

While London swelters, I am in the cool of Shoreditch House. The most recent addition to the Soho House group (of private members’ clubs and hotels) opened in east London in 2007, with a rooftop pool, two restaurants, gym, Cowshed spa (tucked behind etched glass at street-level) and a bowling alley. Now Shoreditch House (an old biscuit factory) has added Shoreditch Rooms, by converting the pub next door into 26 “light airy bedrooms”. Members (who get the run of clubs in west London, Somerset, New York, West Hollywood, Berlin and, later this year, Miami) get preferential rates, but for a little bit more, non-members (like me) can also stay, dipping our toes in city hipness without the four-figure joining fee. A marketing master-stroke.

Last winter, Soho House opened Dean Street Townhouse in central London. I stayed and had a ball. There was simply nothing – nada – to moan about (except the couple at the bar massaging each other’s tonsils – then again, it was Christmas). Downy duvet and pillows, sublime bed linen, best bathrobes and bathroom kit in Britain (toothpaste, mouthwash, Cowshed cleanser, moisturiser, shaving gear, even lip balm, to take away) and in the shower, full-size Cowshed shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, body lotion. But I hear the rooms are really tiny, you say. Well yes, if you book the Tiny category, that is what you get, but if you go up one notch to Small, they are just fine.

So I’m checking in to my “Small” quarters on the first floor at Shoreditch Rooms. Not sure about “things to borrow” on the landing – board games alongside a leather crop, a feather on a stick, oh, and an old ironing board. Ah, but the room’s clever. An urban beach cabana. What else would you put on Shoreditch High Street? From the muted wooden-clad walls and shuttered windows, and glistening white-tiled shower room right down to the shaving mirror and summery basket hanging on wooden pegs, it suggests “holiday”.

It takes considerable effort to reach the rooftop pool, since I do not like lifts (the stairwell isn’t the club’s best feature) but when I get there – eeek. Only one person is swimming. Music is pumping out and tout Hoxton is up here in sunglasses.

Oh well. I scuttle back down to shower and change for dinner, which turns out to be well worth another climb. Only to the 5th floor this time, and with my friend Suzi, sipping Sonara juleps. The sun begins to dip, lights are dimmed, we are recumbent on low-slung turquoise leather high up in the sky. Bethnal Green has never looked so beautiful.

“It’s nice to be excited about eating somewhere,” says Suzi, scanning the Mediterranean menu. By now we are at a table beneath a sloping concrete roof inset with giant skylights. Bookshelves and pink velvet Knole settees divide the cavernous space. The acoustics are great – no clattering, just chattering over great music.

“You can’t write that I’m having the calamari then octopus, you just can’t,” says Suzi.

“I’m not,” I say, “I’m making a note of the sharing plates those people are eating on that sofa.”

Sunday, 7.30am. Laps in an almost deserted pool. I fail to find the sauna or steam room, but by the time I’m eating breakfast in the sunny rooftop cafe, members are already bagging the sunloungers.

Shoreditch Rooms
Ebor Street, London
E1 6AW
+44 (0)20 7739 5040
shoreditchhouse.com

Rooms from £75 per night room-only.

My breakfast of porridge and strawberries, with tea, cost £8.50; dinner around £21 for two courses, excluding drinks, plus 12.5% optional service charge.