Groucho Marx said he’d refuse to join any club that would have him as a member. But the Groucho Club has never let me join, so I’m always desperate to go: I sneak in whenever I get the chance, hoping to re-create its most notorious nights.
Who wouldn’t want to drink in the club where Julie Burchill claims Toby Young had his way with a Princess Diana impersonator in the toilets; where Rowland Rivron broke his hand cycling down the stairs, wrecked on pisco sours; where, on one epic night, Keith Allen assembled a band from the boozers, with Moby on piano, Mick Jones singing Clash songs, and Coldplay and New Order on backing vocals?
The social alchemist who whipped up this hedonistic maelstrom was Mary-Lou Sturridge. The Groucho’s godmother, she was instrumental in the 1980s and 1990s in helping its founder, Anthony Mackintosh, turn the club into an era-defining melting pot that changed the face of London’s social scene.
Mary-Lou left when the club was sold to its current owners, Graphite Capital. Among the regulars, there are murmurings that it hasn’t been the same since — that it has (whisper
it) cleaned up its act.
Perhaps Sturridge has, too. She tells me it’s not that she got bored of staying up until 5am five nights a week, but thought: “Why not stay up until 5am just two nights a week instead?” Which hints at the kind of weekend retreat she hopes her new project will become. For now, with investment from Mackintosh, she has opened the Seaside Boarding House, in Dorset.
Read the full feature here: http://www.thesundaytimes.co.uk/sto/travel/weekends/Places_to_stay/article1524290.ece