Hotels are adapting into private members clubs but will guests pay fro the privilege?
The question sounds almost absurd at first: would people really pay thousands of dollars a year—not to stay at a hotel, but to belong to one?
Increasingly, the answer is yes.
Across the world, a new category of luxury hospitality is quietly, but powerfully, emerging. It sits somewhere between a five-star hotel and a private members’ club—and in many cases, it is deliberately both. For a new generation of affluent, experience-driven travellers and locals alike, the appeal is not just a room for the night, but access to a lifestyle.
This is not entirely new. Private clubs have existed for centuries, from the storied Metropolitan Club in New York to the ultra-exclusive Jonathan Club in California, where membership has long signified status, connection and access.
But what is new is how luxury hotel groups are reimagining this concept—and monetising it in a way that is reshaping the entire industry.
At the forefront of this shift is Pendry Hotels & Resorts, part of Montage International, which has pioneered a modern interpretation of the members’ club within its hotels. Their Elwood Club, located within Pendry Newport Beach, offers members something previously reserved for guests: access to hotel-level service as part of daily life.
Here, membership is not just about exclusivity—it is about immersion. Members can move seamlessly between work, wellness and social life, with access to private dining, curated events, fitness programming and hotel amenities typically reserved for overnight guests.
It is, in essence, the hotel experience—without the check-in.

And the model is expanding rapidly.
In Atlanta, FORTH has taken the concept even further, positioning itself as both a luxury hotel and a fully integrated social club. With rooms, restaurants, wellness facilities and a members’ club operating under one roof, it represents what many insiders believe is the future of urban hospitality.
This hybrid model is not driven by travellers—but by locals.
According to recent reporting, hotels are increasingly targeting young, affluent residents who are willing to pay annual membership fees for access to curated spaces, social programming and a sense of belonging. In cities where traditional social structures have eroded, these clubs offer something powerful: community, with a luxury filter.

And importantly, they are also good business.
Underused hotel spaces—ballrooms, conference rooms, lounges—are being transformed into revenue-generating social hubs. Instead of sitting empty during off-peak periods, they are filled with members attending Pilates classes, networking events, private dinners or rooftop gatherings.
Membership fees can range from a few thousand dollars annually to upwards of $6,500, often with additional initiation costs. For hotel owners, this creates a recurring revenue stream that is not dependent on occupancy—a significant shift in an industry traditionally tied to nightly rates.
But beyond the numbers, there is a deeper shift at play.

Luxury, as we once understood it—thread counts, marble bathrooms, butler service—is no longer enough.
Today’s high-value guest wants access. They want to feel part of something. They want a hotel that doesn’t just serve them, but connects them—to people, to culture, to experiences they cannot replicate elsewhere.
That is why brands like Zero Bond have become cultural phenomena. With locations in New York and Las Vegas, Zero Bond has built a reputation not just as a club, but as a curated social ecosystem—complete with private dining, screening rooms, and a strict membership model that prioritises discretion and influence.
It is also why lifestyle-driven hotel groups such as Ennismore, the force behind brands like Hyde and Mondrian, are expanding aggressively into markets like Australia. These brands understand that the future of hospitality is not just about accommodation—it is about activation.
The hotel becomes the stage. The members—and guests—become part of the performance.
Wellness, in particular, has emerged as a defining pillar of this new model. From private training sessions and holistic therapies at Pendry’s Elwood Club to rooftop pools and Pilates classes at FORTH, the offering goes far beyond the traditional hotel gym.
This is not incidental. It reflects a broader shift in how affluent consumers prioritise their time and spending—placing equal value on health, connection and experience.
Of course, the model is not without risk.

Some industry insiders warn that an over-saturation of private clubs could dilute their exclusivity—and, more critically, alienate traditional hotel guests. A business traveller checking in for a quiet stay may not appreciate navigating a lobby filled with members attending a high-energy event.
There is also the question of longevity. Will these clubs maintain their allure once the novelty fades? Or will they follow the trajectory of other lifestyle trends—burning brightly before losing relevance?
For now, however, the momentum is undeniable.
What we are witnessing is the evolution of the hotel—from a place you pass through, to a place you belong.
And perhaps that is the real shift. The modern luxury traveller no longer wants to simply arrive, stay, and leave.
They want to enter a world—and, increasingly, pay to be part of it.
