Rating – VG for Very Good
Every good city can offer you what you’re looking for.
Quiet luxury? Chicago has Ambassador for that. (I personally prefer the old name, Public)
Simple, but supple business travel? Boston has exactly one billion Hilton variants.
Generally, a hotel and city combo matches the doings of its guests.
But London-Shoreditch can offer you something else entirely: low-stakes fun that can still turn into a 1 a.m. near-dust-up in a fancy club, philosophical chats with famous sports podcasters, vinyl discos, and craft cocktails…all while you cosplay as a music executive. That last bit, is where Virgin Hotels enter the mix
My most recent solo trip to London was all of the above.
For tax purposes, this is solely a review of Virgin Hotels Shoreditch. I’ll say it’s VG. Very good. And it could be a Masterclass level if they wanted it to be…
The idea is simple: you’re a ’90s music executive, and the lifestyle is manufactured for you.
If you want to get drunk in dad jeans and a white Oxford at a rooftop disco, you can.
If you want to listen to records in a dimly lit bar amongst other elder millennials, you can.
And if you want to blare Nas on a Marshall speaker (as only an elder millennial would) inside an exposed-brick loft, you can.
Everything is very good. The sliders are very good. The cocktails are better. The DJ played vinyl. Leather jacket. The music was actually good.
The gym is not life-changing, but it is one of the bigger, better-equipped hotel gyms I’ve been in.
If The Savoy is flying Emirates, Virgin Hotels is flying Virgin. It’s stylish. It’s very good.
And I feel a strange urge to defend it, because “very good” sounds underwhelming. I generally only bring M for Masterclass to my audience. So let me lay out what’s excellent, and then the tiny little things that stop me from giving this an M.
The good (borderline Masterclass)
First and foremost: the hotel is exceptionally stylish. It’s a unique experience in itself. It’s very me. A little punk rock. A little hip hop. A ton of swagger, but with a ton of elegance.
I came into Paddington like I do, then grabbed an Uber Exec from Old Bond Street to the hotel. Yes, I know I’m meant to use the Tube. I hate the Tube. If I’m alone, I’m not taking it. I love a good London walk.
On arrival, I recognised the stylish crowd. Not unlike my friends back in the states. No Kardashian types. Everyone is exactly who you’d expect to see: sales execs, design consultants, stealth VIPs. The kids who buy Campfire earbuds. Etc. The people doing trendy, cool Shoreditch rather than Soho.
Five years ago, I’d have been more of a Shoreditch type. I’ve worked out here enough to recognise that like Bond, I can easily fit in…but it’s not necessarily my vibration.
Check-in is smooth. The adornments and art installation in the lobby are dialled. It’s impressive. The staff are sharp but casual. Not too cool for school. Not ridiculously attentive. Just on the level.
Very good.
Next to me at check-in: a couple a few years older than me. More Flannel’s than Stuart’s (like myself). They’re clearly winning with the desk staff and are told they’re getting a £50 bar credit.
I consider asking for one, but for these purposes, I don’t. The best hotels would explain why they get one and I don’t…elegantly, or would give me something “just because,” as a surprise and delight.
Instead, I’m told I’ve got an excellent room with a courtyard view. The impression is that it may be better than what I booked.
I don’t know if it is.
The lift is cool: Virgin red, low light. My key card is a red playing card. I hit my room and immediately think: young Bond. What would Gen Z 007 want in a spot? This.
Vibrant but elegant colours. Shopping magazines. Not quite Boodles (and that’s a bit pretentious for normal folk). The bathroom is exquisite. The steam shower is top notch.
I shower immediately and hop into the Virgin-branded robe and slippers. Perfect fit.
Now, I’ve had one truly elite robe in my life: the Radisson on Bond Street. Woven. Like my wife’s Williams Sonoma tea towels with that waffle stitch. The best hotels I’ve been to couldn’t hang with that robe. The Savoy. The Mandala. Etc.
This robe is good. It cannot hang either.
The Arran soaps are…you guessed it…very good. Independent Scottish brand. Not crazy expensive. Closer to Rituals than not.
What’s unimpeachable is the tiling and style of the bathroom. The green wardrobe. The easy-to-connect gold Marshall speaker. The massive, sumptuous bed.
Those feel closer to Masterclass.
The minibar is very good. The addition of my favourite wine type – Côtes du Rhône red is Masterclass behaviour.
Food, drink, and the “record exec” fantasy
I decide to experience the bar before heading to the Arsenal match. I plan to drink my weight in Asahi, so a meal and a cocktail are in order.
There are a few places to eat, but only one sticks out: the vinyl disco restaurant, Hidden Grooves.
A trendy host tells me there’s no room at the rail or a table. I ask if I can have a cocktail in the lobby. There’s some deliberation, then I’m sat in the lobby anyway.
I end up chatting with a younger couple. The host returns and says they can’t make the cocktail I ordered.
But now there’s a free table.
She says something about reservations, but it lands more like a recommendation than an admonishment. I sit. The vibe is perfect.
Random free snacks. Proper chats with staff. Nods from the DJ. I have found my place.
My food arrives. Offensively tasty. One of the best burgers I’ve had. The fries too. My Old Fashioned variant, The Decanter, is phenomenal and a perfect recommendation.
That moment is the best service in the building.
I pay. I head out for the aforementioned festivities.
Why “VG” and not “M”
I come back to a difficult-to-open door, but that’s partially the Asahis talking. Night staff are friendly. Check-out team is friendly too. They sort my black cab in pretty good time, especially for not having car service on site.
Here’s my broader take: I think about vertical brands like Swatch Group and the VW Group. If you can match your service to the “winning brand” in your own family, you have a clear win.
Virgin Hotels charges Longines money. And it earns a lot of it on style, concept, and sheer fun.
But it’s not the kind of place where everything is flawlessly calibrated. A few details still feel a shade more mass-premium than precision. So you leave thinking, “That was very good,” not, “That was inevitable.”
That’s the difference between VG and M for Masterclass.
I’m looking forward to going back. I’ll go with my wife sometime, because it’s really stylish and it nails the “record exec” feeling. Maybe we’ll test a Grand Chamber suite.
But I’ll need to pry her away from The Savoy first.
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