On a warm spring evening in the heart of NoHo in New York City, an elevator springs open onto a dimly lit entryway. Beyond, the din of a hot night out — drinking, gossip — emanates from a room that’s at once cozy and grand, with exposed-brick walls, velvet-upholstered banquettes and gleaming wood tables. Welcome to Zero Bond, a 20,000-square-foot pantheon of New York City’s new ruling class, where there’s no dress code, but if you’re cool enough to enter and rub shoulders with some of its famous members (rumored: Taylor Swift, Gigi Hadid, Josh Kushner), you know the unwritten rule: What happens at Zero Bond stays at Zero Bond.
Which is part of the appeal of a handful of members-only clubs that have taken over the nightlife scene in cities like New York, Los Angeles and Miami. Members must be referred and vetted to join. By virtue of having the connections and wealth to gain entry, they garner a certain amount of status, prestige and networking opportunities. Plus, these clubs provide an exclusive place to dine and relax at a moment’s notice — no playing the reservations game with impossible-to-book restaurants. “It means I don’t have to wait three weeks for a reservation at Carbone,” says Samantha,* a member of one such club.
Besides the chance to mingle with the glitterati, these private clubs offer big-time amenities. At Zero Bond, there are comedy nights and theme parties. At Remedy Place, a West Hollywood– and New York City–based social club focused on wellness and longevity, members can engage in tête-à-têtes while receiving personalized IV infusions or complete a Zoom call in a hyperbaric oxygen chamber. Members of the Aman Club at the Aman New York Hotel have access to a popular jazz club and a world-class spa; Sting provided the entertainment at a recent New Year’s Eve party. Says Isabel,* a member of one of these clubs, “It’s a party. You go, and you never have a dull moment.”
For the clubs, many of which are run by hospitality industry veterans, the desire to belong is big business. The global private social club market is poised to reach $25.8 billion by 2027, with growth of 11.2% projected from 2022 to 2027, according to market research company Mordor Intelligence. There are currently over 18,000 private clubs in the United States, with total membership exceeding 10 million. Soho House — one of the OG social clubs, which originated in the United Kingdom and has expanded to 40 locations worldwide, including New York City (there’s one in downtown Manhattan and one in Brooklyn), Miami and Los Angeles — had to limit its membership to 200,000, because locations were becoming too crowded. That’s a cardinal sin in an industry built on exclusivity.
Historically, New York City’s wealthiest clubs — old-money hideaways — were created for men to socialize (subtext: without women). One of the first, the Union Club, was formed in 1836 with an initiation fee of $200, a pretty penny at the time. Others — like the Knickerbocker Club (former members have included President Calvin Coolidge and poet T. S. Eliot), founded in 1871 by a faction of Union Club members — were spawned by controversies over who was considered membership material. J.P. Morgan founded the Metropolitan Club of New York in 1891 when a friend he sponsored for membership at the Knickerbocker was blackballed.
For decades, these storied clubs were the only game in town if you wanted to exercise your wealth and privilege. They still are for a specific group of blue bloods, but the new crop of private clubs — places like San Vicente Bungalows in Los Angeles and Colette Club in New York City — provide a next-gen alternative. While they may be no less competitive and elitist, they’re more meritocratic and less stodgy (i.e., no jacket required) than their precursors. Zero Bond’s members tend to be downtown power brokers from all industries: asset management, professional sports and tech. Soho House is known for wanting only creative types; movie producers, photographers and novelists have a better chance of gaining entry than, say, a lawyer from a white-shoe firm. One applicant to Soho House knows of a member who faked their job to get in, pretending to work for an interior decorator when they actually worked in finance. Aman’s lofty initiation fee is rumored to be substantially reduced for attractive women. (At a happy hour last winter, a couple of the city’s matchmakers could be seen hunting around the club’s outdoor fire pit for new women to add to their roster.) You need to know at least two current members at most places to get in.
Money is a factor, too. Some clubs, notably Aman, which requires a $200,000 initiation fee, are extremely expensive. But for the people who join, billionaires and multimillionaires, it’s an expense in line with their Hamptons golf club dues. That vibe, of course, isn’t for everyone. Says Alexandra,* herself a member of Soho House, “There’s a feeling about Zero Bond that’s not about money. You can’t just buy your way into the club.” Rumor has it that Casa Cipriani, in Lower Manhattan, is looking for a cooler clientele and, according to the New York Post’s Page Six, kicked out members who were responsible for leaking pictures of Taylor Swift and Matty Healy when they were spotted there together.
Theoretically, legacy won’t help you at any of these clubs — “No one’s grandfather belonged to Zero Bond,” Alexandra quips — and there’s something to be said about being an inaugural member of one of society’s new fortresses of power. But we aren’t exactly living in a full-blown meritocracy, and these clubs are nothing if not a reflection of our times. Having a recognizable last name, wealthy parents or royal blood still opens doors. No one is turning down Prince Harry for membership.
“It’s exclusive, but it’s normal. It’s nice to be among people who are like you,” says Isabel. Plus ça change …
Additional reporting by Tatiana Boncompagni
*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the sources.