It was always going to need some heavy hitters to make good of the beautiful Beaux-Arts Battery Maritime Building, which hangs over the water next to the Staten Island ferry terminal. Enter the first family of Italian hospitality, the Ciprianis, who used the space to open their first member’s club (a Milan outpost followed). If that weren’t enough, they enlisted none other than Mr Thierry Despont to oversee its renovation (he’s best known as the man responsible for restoring the Statue of Liberty). The result is truly a showstopper of a space. Italianate luxury in excelsis, all polished wood panelling, gleaming chrome and brass, sumptuous velvet seating, oyster and caviar jazz dinners… If you want to woo – a date, a client, that friend whose birthday you forgot – Casa Cipriani, with some of the best views in the city, is the place to do it.

Dress code: Places this aesthetically pleasing must maintain certain standards, so take note: jackets for dinner, no tees unless under a jacket, no dirty shoes (clean, smart sneakers are acceptable), no shorts, no garish logos. Aim for the impeccable: we’d look towards classical tailoring of TOM FORD or Brunello Cucinelli.

As Brooklyn became a global byword for things that were “new”, “cool”, or “disruptive”, its history often got overlooked. A shame, really, as it meant people missed the low-key allure of Park Slope’s most eye-catching old building, the 1891-built, Venice-inspired redbrick home of the Montauk Club. Despite its age, the Montauk was always one of the more progressive social clubs, reverent of its Native American links, open to immigrant communities, and the first in the city with a ladies’ entrance. Today it boasts a genuinely eclectic membership, an analogue approach, and its own bylaws (“a place of resort and entertainment… to establish therein a library and collection of works of art for their improvement”) but it makes for an alluring change of scenery if you want to escape the city hubbub and get stuff done. The balcony is a great spot for a drink, too.

Dress code: Its old-timey charm makes wearing a jacket seem apt even if it isn’t a rule by decree. As a regular filming location (much of HBO’s Boardwalk Empire was shot here), it might aid your chances of appearing on screen, too. But we’re in Brooklyn, so park the blazer and feel free to take a more modish approach. A lightweight jacket from BODE or Bottega Veneta would be just right.

“I’m a New York guy doing a New York version of a London social club,” said Mr Scott Sartiano by way of explaining his latest creation. “I wanted athletes and actors mixing with finance and doctors and fashion.” Since opening mid-pandemic, Zero Bond has quickly established itself as one of the city’s hottest addresses (which is, quite fabulously, 0 Bond Street) and has drawn everyone from Sir Paul McCartney to Mr Tom Brady to mayor Mr Eric Adams. Inside, there is plenty of space to work across its two dimly lit and handsomely styled floors, food is presided over by culinary director Mr Alfred Portale of Gotham Bar and Grill fame, and there’s a vinyl-stocked record bar fitted with a covetable McIntosh hi-fi among its many well-crafted details.

Dress code: Staff here are kitted out in suits by Brooks Brothers and there’s a dressed-up feel all round, albeit with a New York edge. So, think smart-casual and sophisticated: tailored trousers with a Thom Browne sweater would ensure you look the part.

The idea of a members’ club carries all sorts of louche connotations, but they’re often needed more prosaically as a place to work. The Malin, a self-described “work-focused members’ club”, has caught the eye with its design-magazine-cool spaces geared towards the creative crowd. Each outpost splits up its floors into several zones designed to stimulate different modes of working, and you can choose between general access or a dedicated desk. If you’re one to be inspired by a view, the Malin in Williamsburg sits on the ninth floor of the William Vale hotel, looking back across the city skyline.

Dress code: Your usual office attire, but try to make as much of an effort as the interior designers have. A cashmere crew neck from The Elder Statesman or a neat cardigan from Auralee will ensure you blend in.

In any history of London’s members’ clubs, you’ll find the Birleys writ large. Mr Mark Birley founded Annabel’s in 1963, Mark’s Club a decade later, and George in 2001 (and some non-mononym ventures in between). After some Succession-ish squabbles with his heir apparent son, Robin, Birley sold his group of clubs to another hospitality heavyweight, Mr Richard Caring, just before he died in 2007. And it was Caring who personally oversaw the extensive refurbishment and reopening of George (named after Birley’s dog) last year. A younger, dare we say “vibey”, Mayfair crowd has been charmed by the lavish canine theme – dog’s head taps in the gents, greyhound lamps, Ms Jill Berelowitz’s giant dachshund sculpture as you descend from dining room to the Hound Bar nightclub – pedigree Mediterranean menu, and, of course, dog-friendly door policy. Indeed, some of the most well-groomed guests at George are the four-legged kind – they even get their own menu. Not that it ever tips into themed parody, mind: there’s enough burnt gold tiling, starched white tablecloths, and the occasional Hockney to make sure of that.

Dress code: This is not a place for sportswear, streetwear or anything distressed, but it is marginally less prescriptive than Annabel’s or Mark’s. Jackets aren’t compulsory, rather encouraged when dining. Stick to the classics: a sport coat from Drake’s with flat-front trousers and boots from Tricker’s would look smart, but not stuffy.

Estelle is currently the capital’s hottest name to drop, even if very few people actually get to slip beyond her Grafton Street door (number six, if you’re wondering). Operating a husher-than-hush-hush policy since its inception has meant a rather refreshing air of mystique to the Maison. No photos, no social media, no sales-patter show arounds. We do know it’s the brainchild of Mr Sharan Pasricha, founder of Ennismore (Hoxton hotels, Mondrian hotels, Gleneagles etc), and his wife, Mrs Eiesha Bharti Pasricha, who serves as artistic director. And you can also head to the less secretive sister country club, Estelle Manor in the Cotswolds, to pick up a few style clues (namely high-touch English luxury through a modern lens). But this much is a given: find a way to furnish yourself with a Maison membership and you’ll become the most popular man around.

Dress code: We were told, in suitably vague terms, that members and their guests “can decide how to dress depending on the occasion”. But the interiors style skews toward the classic, so we wouldn’t pitch up in anything too wacky. Instead, look towards the subtly distinctive style of brands such as LEMAIRE.

If you were driven wild by ever shrinking “laptop zones” at your local workplace, put your name down for the Pavilion and you’ll be well catered for. It has sites in Kensington, the City and, most impressively, in the striking former bank nudged up against the Mandarin Oriental in Knightsbridge. All three straddle work and play seamlessly, with ornate phone booths, meeting rooms and well-proportioned desks alongside vibrant bars, well-equipped gyms and, in Knightsbridge, a checkerboard-tiled terrace overlooking Hyde Park. Live events aim to stimulate, too, with Mr Louis Theroux one of the upcoming speakers.

Dress code: Again, nothing is proclaimed, and the City outpost skews toward tailoring, but otherwise it’s a smart-casual place from day to night. All three locations are in smarter parts of town, though, so if you’re going to wear sneakers, wear smarter styles from the likes of ZEGNA.

Much is made of north London’s cultural contributions, but it’s never really had a club to call its own. Until this April, anyway, when The Dally takes root on Upper Street. Neighbourhood in intention, but global in conception (its Islington-resident club-veteran founders drew inspiration from stints in Sydney, New York, Ghana, Edinburgh and more), it’s conjured a refined three-storey all-day hangout from what was once the Medicine Bar, designed to encourage a lively community spirit for those who live, work, or just enjoy spending time in the area. Dine, drink, drop in for a coffee and some emails – meeting the neighbours just got more fun.

Dress code: A step up from pyjamas or dog-walking gear, but this is a come-as-you-are kind of venture. We’d use it as an opportunity to show off your cultural know-how, in insider brands such as CHERRY LOS ANGELES or Blue Blue Japan.

At more than 25 years old, Home House is another veritable veteran of the post-Mayfair scene. Sat on the northwest corner of Portman Square, its three Georgian townhouses hide some quite fabulous architectural flourishes behind their sober facade, a fitting metaphor for the club itself, which is decidedly more Saltburn than Shoreditch House. Enter past a rather camp portrait of the late Queen and you’ll soon be staring upwards in awe at the Mr Robert Adam-designed, dome-topped spiral staircase. Off it you’ll find 23 baroque bedrooms and a warren of drawing rooms, lounges, restaurants, bars, events spaces and a sizeable terrace garden out back. Hedonism has long been the order of the day here; it proudly proclaims its “there are no rules” rule, and recent parties have courted a new generation of members including Mr Lennon Gallagher and Mr Daniel Lismore. But the sprawling country house layout means you can always find a quiet corner for a meeting and there’s a gym in the basement.

Dress code: “Appropriately dressed” is as far as any formal code goes, and from all-black Balenciaga to sensible sweaters and slacks, you tend to encounter the full fashion gamut here.