Many moons ago, when I was a junior
newspaper reporter working in downtown Johannesburg, my father invited me to join him for lunch at the Rand Club. It was, and remains, a terribly grand establishment and beautiful building, so I was delighted to be offered a glimpse inside.
The fact that I had to enter The Rand Club through the side door instead of the main entrance, because the club did not admit women as members, was more humorous than offensive to me. I could not relate to such a precious policy, and the idea of being part of an exclusive set was certainly not something I aspired to at that stage of my life.
Fast-forward to the early 21st century. I was a slightly more mature magazine journalist, commuting between Joburg and Cape Town, and it was only the magnificent
Slow Lounges at OR Tambo and Cape Town International that kept me sane, well fed, and productive during those long and tiresome journeys from home to office. I had discovered the delights, convenience, and predictability of a members-only club, and even remember tweeting the boss of FNB to thank him for the account benefit!
More recently, an invitation to Sunday lunch at the Johannesburg Country Club is an absolute treat. Here my children can run for miles in a safe and exquisite setting — the tired ‘80s-style carvery and crème caramel a small price to pay for this luxury in the big city.
My membership card of that other club — the fitness one — is probably the single least used piece of plastic in my wallet, but that’s another story!
Most of us belong to a club of some description these days. And I’m prepared to bet that Mesh — the brand-new Rosebank club that we feature on page 46 — is going to reach its maximum membership of 500 in record time.
Happy spring!
Jacquie
September Issue: Wanted
Ed's Letter | Joining the club...
Many moons ago, when I was a junior
newspaper reporter working in downtown Johannesburg, my father invited me to join him for lunch at the Rand Club. It was, and remains, a terribly grand establishment and beautiful building, so I was delighted to be offered a glimpse inside.
The fact that I had to enter The Rand Club through the side door instead of the main entrance, because the club did not admit women as members, was more humorous than offensive to me. I could not relate to such a precious policy, and the idea of being part of an exclusive set was certainly not something I aspired to at that stage of my life.
Fast-forward to the early 21st century. I was a slightly more mature magazine journalist, commuting between Joburg and Cape Town, and it was only the magnificent
Slow Lounges at OR Tambo and Cape Town International that kept me sane, well fed, and productive during those long and tiresome journeys from home to office. I had discovered the delights, convenience, and predictability of a members-only club, and even remember tweeting the boss of FNB to thank him for the account benefit!
More recently, an invitation to Sunday lunch at the Johannesburg Country Club is an absolute treat. Here my children can run for miles in a safe and exquisite setting — the tired ‘80s-style carvery and crème caramel a small price to pay for this luxury in the big city.
My membership card of that other club — the fitness one — is probably the single least used piece of plastic in my wallet, but that’s another story!
Most of us belong to a club of some description these days. And I’m prepared to bet that Mesh — the brand-new Rosebank club that we feature on page 46 — is going to reach its maximum membership of 500 in record time.
Happy spring!
Jacquie
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