A spotter’s guide to everyone you’ll meet at Soho House this summer

Summer is a time to create and recreate. The moment to kick off shoes, throw caution to the wind, and order three bottles of wine with your lunch. I mean, if not now, when? Winter is for wallowing; summer is for frolicking. But it is also something else: it’s principal time for people watching. And the primest bit of real estate for engaging in that is in one of the Houses.

So, to assist you in this, we present you with a tongue-in-cheek guide to all of the people you will meet at Soho House this summer.

The perpetual holidaymaker
Where to spot them: Soho Roc House, Mykonos (at least this week)

There they go, zipping from bar to lounger like one of those remote-control boats on a pond – up and down, up and down. Their only concern is the quantity of Lady A left in the bottle and whether that nice squid dish they like is on the menu. ‘Ooh, it is. Fabulous’. Next week is Rome and then LA after that. And then, you know, they’ll just see, like, where the wind takes them. Never has a person looked more relaxed; never has a person looked more tanned. One day, when we grow up, we want to be like them.

The harried freelancer
Where to spot them: Soho House Paris

They are furrowed of brow and long of face. Beads of sweat form on their forehead like little shimmering diamonds. And who can blame them? Theirs is an unenviable lot. Somewhere in the bylaw of Paris it says: thou shalt not spend August in the city. Which is all very well if you live in the 16th or your name is Pinault or Arnault. But, well, they aren’t freelancers with a mortgage to pay and eight clients to chase for late payments. And so, they plough on, fruitlessly, bravely, like a cavalryman in the charge of the light brigade. Alas, the only reply they get: out of office. C’est magnifique, mais ce n’est pas la guerre.

The art world type
Where to spot them: DUMBO House, New York

Their glasses may be thick-set and round, but they are as angular as a Picasso. Well, not a Picasso. Picasso is so passe. They would prefer you said they were as bright as Murakami. But, hey they don’t care, they’re chilled. Credit where it is due to them, they work 70 hours a week in an art consultancy for ultra-HNWI, but still arrive at DUMBO House before everyone else. Including the staff. They splay themselves out on a lounger like a gecko on its holidays. And as well they might, because they can’t leave the city this summer. I mean, how could they, that Basquiat isn’t going to sell itself, is it now?

The summer gym addict
Where to spot them: Soho House Copenhagen

The car to take them to the airport might be arriving in approximately 27 minutes, but there is still time. The thing is, that bag of crisps last night isn’t going to burn itself off. They’ve just come too far this year. This time six months ago, they looked down and saw only a pack of six. Now, they look down, triumphant, and see an eight-pack. Gains. As they head out through the bar, they come face to face with a waiter carrying a bowl of chips. They raise their yoga mat as if it were a crucifix and flee into the waiting Prius.

The undercover actor
Where to spot them: Soho House Berlin

Is that him? It can’t be, surely? You know the one I mean, the one off that programme on Netflix. The thing where he gets his kit off in a caravan. Seems a bit unseasonal to be wearing that get-up, doesn’t it? I mean a black zip-up hoodie? It’s 30°C. The beanie looks a bit off, too. I spotted him downstairs in the bar, first; not quite sure why he was wearing sunglasses in there. Anyone would think he meant to be recognised.

The poolside office worker
Where to spot them: Shoreditch House, London

You can only see their head at first. Which is hardly surprising, given they seem to have built an entire home office on a sunbed by the pool. It is sort of admirable in a way, but is it really necessary to have a Mac and an iPad? At least they left the inkjet at home. Some might say they were living their best life; others might say: ‘can you move that iPad, I want to sit down’.