vogue.co.uk
Dean Street Townhouse
30 November, 2009
A sleepover on a school night on Monday. Felt so decadent packing my beloved, if very battered, ancient Prada suitcase for one night in Soho. Jumped in a taxi in a cherry-red Temperley London cocktail dress and checked in to the spanking new Dean Street Townhouse.
Danced around my tiny perfect jewel of a room (Number 13), torn between hotfooting it to the bar, or slathering myself in Cowshed lotions and potions in the privacy of my gorgeous black and white bathroom. Loved spying on the smoking chefs and sparring lovers on the Soho streets below. Instant theatre.
When I first moved to London, Soho felt like the centre of the world and Nick Jones’ brilliantly imagined Townhouse captures that rare sense of freedom and endless possibilities, whilst spoiling you rotten in every sense. Even the tiniest bedrooms ache of luxury with definitely one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever slept in, tiny silver pots of tea and coffee tucked away, and the service that Soho House is famous for: laid-back and ‘anything goes’ but also ultra-professional with an uncanny ability to predict your every move and need.
I savoured my breakfast in the bar the morning after - surrounded by my fellow one-night standers: Roland Mouret, Stephen Fry, Gwyneth Paltrow et al - as fuzzy sunlight filtered through and last nights’ tales emerged over espressos and pain au chocolates, before reluctantly running back to my real world, imagining this dream of a place dissolving in a puff of smoke in my wake. I’ll check its still there and just as good in sober daylight when I book a big shiny red booth at the back for an early festive lunch one of these days.
www.deansttownhouse.com
69-71 Dean St, W1. (020 7434 1775)
Dean Street Townhouse
30 November, 2009
A sleepover on a school night on Monday. Felt so decadent packing my beloved, if very battered, ancient Prada suitcase for one night in Soho. Jumped in a taxi in a cherry-red Temperley London cocktail dress and checked in to the spanking new Dean Street Townhouse.
Danced around my tiny perfect jewel of a room (Number 13), torn between hotfooting it to the bar, or slathering myself in Cowshed lotions and potions in the privacy of my gorgeous black and white bathroom. Loved spying on the smoking chefs and sparring lovers on the Soho streets below. Instant theatre.
When I first moved to London, Soho felt like the centre of the world and Nick Jones’ brilliantly imagined Townhouse captures that rare sense of freedom and endless possibilities, whilst spoiling you rotten in every sense. Even the tiniest bedrooms ache of luxury with definitely one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever slept in, tiny silver pots of tea and coffee tucked away, and the service that Soho House is famous for: laid-back and ‘anything goes’ but also ultra-professional with an uncanny ability to predict your every move and need.
I savoured my breakfast in the bar the morning after - surrounded by my fellow one-night standers: Roland Mouret, Stephen Fry, Gwyneth Paltrow et al - as fuzzy sunlight filtered through and last nights’ tales emerged over espressos and pain au chocolates, before reluctantly running back to my real world, imagining this dream of a place dissolving in a puff of smoke in my wake. I’ll check its still there and just as good in sober daylight when I book a big shiny red booth at the back for an early festive lunch one of these days.
www.deansttownhouse.com
69-71 Dean St, W1. (020 7434 1775)
