This week, the Groucho Club in Soho had its licence suspended by Westminster Council after a request from the Metropolitan police, who are investigating a ‘serious criminal offence’ said to have taken place on its grounds. Beyond ‘serious’, the crime has yet to be specified. But one thing is certain: the Groucho has gone down (at least temporarily) in a hail of bad vibes, all the famous fun and games grinding to an infamous halt.
I used to be a member of the Groucho, having taken advantage of its offer for under 30s. I spent much time carousing in its seductive, plush interiors. Kate Moss talked to me once on a boozy festive evening, telling me how much she loved panto. A friend and I drunkenly offered to buy Jon Hamm, aka Don Draper in Mad Men, a cocktail (he refused); on another evening we had a very long evening with Andrew Scott, aka (at the time) Moriarty in the Sherlock with Benedict Cumberbatch.
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