Buenos Aires Gentlemen’s Clubs

Having grown up in London, I have always regarded England as the “Mecca” of gentlemen’s clubs, and rightly so. However, after spending the last forty years living in cities ranging from London and New York to Bangkok, Singapore, and most recently Buenos Aires, I have acquired what I dare call a certain expertise in both gentlemen’s clubs and sporting clubs.

To avoid misunderstandings, when I refer to “gentlemen’s clubs,” I mean all traditional private clubs, including those that, over time, have opened their doors to women. In my view, neither model is objectionable. Freedom of choice should remain a cornerstone of our society.

by Nikolaos Kosmatos

What has particularly impressed me, however, is Buenos Aires. The capital of a country caught in the turmoil of a perpetual economic crisis, it nevertheless carries the legacy of a nation that, until the 1950s, ranked among the six wealthiest countries in the world. It is therefore no coincidence that, from the late nineteenth century onwards, clubs modeled after their English counterparts flourished in this beautiful city—the “Paris of South America.”

The author is a member of two of Buenos Aires’ most traditional and selective clubs, the Hurlingham Club and the Jockey Club, and enjoys access to three others through reciprocal agreements with clubs of which he is a member in Athens, namely the Athenian Club and the Athens Tennis Club.

The Hurlingham Club is an unmistakably English institution, where portraits of Queen Elizabeth II and King Charles still adorn its drawing rooms. The Jockey Club, founded by Carlos Pellegrini, former President of Argentina, is traditionally associated with landowners of the famous estancias, racehorse breeders, and owners of polo ponies—the mounts of what many call the “king of sports,” polo.

The former places no restrictions on membership and welcomes both men and women. The latter admits only men as members, although women—wives and daughters of members—are permitted to use many of its facilities.

Among the reciprocal clubs are the Circulo de Armas (“The Arms Club”), which remains men-only, the Tenis Club Argentino (TCA), and the Buenos Aires Lawn Tennis Club (BALTC), both of which are open to all genders. It is worth noting that the spelling of “tennis” reflects each club’s historical origins: TCA uses the Spanish tenis, reflecting its more Argentine identity, whereas BALTC retains the English tennis, underscoring its British roots.

If the Hurlingham Club represents the quintessential English sporting club, with its polo grounds, golf courses, grass tennis courts, and cricket fields, and the Jockey Club embodies the world of landowners and horse breeders—with its vast estates, six polo fields, two golf courses, Argentina’s largest racetrack, and buildings rivaling Versailles itself—then the smaller Circulo de Armas is undoubtedly the most exclusive and difficult to access.

With only 330 members out of the 400 permitted by its charter, it is the club of politicians. On any given day, one may find oneself dining beside a former President of Argentina or the President of the Senate. Its members are unconcerned if the club struggles financially, provided it does not compromise its standards by admitting individuals who lack the requisite reputation or fail to meet its stringent social, political, and other membership criteria.

The club’s entrance, located on Corrientes Avenue, does not even bear its name. Those who know, know. A grand green velvet curtain conceals the revolving glass door from the curious eyes of passersby. Face control is rigorously enforced in all its forms—as, indeed, it should be in any club that respects itself.

In a country blessed with a multitude of clubs, there are alternatives for everyone. And for those wondering whether only the wealthy, athletes, politicians, or the powerful have clubs, the answer is a resounding no. There is, for example, a highly popular Truck Drivers’ Club, complete with impressive facilities, tennis courts, swimming pools, and its own distinct traditions and way of life.

At the Tenis Club Argentino, membership is generally reserved for descendants of founding families or families with a long-standing membership history, much as at the Jockey Club. Joining without such family ties is exceptionally difficult. A notable example is former Argentine President Mauricio Macri, who reportedly spent a decade trying to gain admission despite counting many members among his friends and acquaintances.

As for the author, despite having five prominent Buenos Aires figures sponsoring his application to the Jockey Club, he was still required to undergo an interview with the Board. He later learned that, through a member married to a Greek woman, inquiries had even been made in Greece regarding his standing and reputation within Athenian society.

Some readers may ask whether such scrutiny offended my Greek pride. Quite the opposite. I found it immensely satisfying, because the proper application of a club’s rules is what transforms an ordinary club into a true English-style club worthy of respect.

To illustrate, in England, if you meet a member of a traditional club and say, “I intend to join White’s soon,” that alone could earn you a blackball. By presuming that existing members will automatically accept you, you violate one of the unwritten traditions of club life. Membership is not suited to every temperament.

What impresses me most in my daily life within Buenos Aires’ clubs is, in the case of the two tennis clubs, not their luxury but their sense of tradition. Everything feels as though one has traveled back in time. Members treat one another with respect and collectively uphold the customs of their institutions. At TCA, for example, tennis may only be played in white attire. No one seeks to rewrite the club charter or amend longstanding rules. Everyone respects both the physical space and the history of their club.

At the Hurlingham Club, there are grass-court tennis tournaments, always played in white, and traditional English afternoon tea enjoyed beneath the shade of towering jacaranda trees. One may watch a cricket match on one side or observe golfers approaching the eighteenth hole as the gentle afternoon sun sinks behind them.

There is also the rich history of the club’s five polo fields, where during the spring and autumn seasons, four players per team risk body and soul in pursuit of victory. Hurlingham hosts Argentina’s oldest polo tournament, the Hurlingham Open, as well as the prestigious Prince of Wales Cup. The trophy was donated by the then Prince Charles, now King Charles III. The author himself has won this cup twice as a member of his polo team.

At the Jockey Club, one encounters a different style of life altogether. Entry through the main entrance requires a suit. Another entrance serves the bistro, where smart casual attire is acceptable, while a separate entrance leads to the basement facilities—gymnasium, swimming pool, sauna—where sportswear is permitted.

Particularly memorable is life in the pool changing rooms, where members gather around tables after exercising, enjoying a snack while reading newspapers or watching television coverage of current events, football, and rugby highlights.

At the Circulo de Armas, suit and tie are mandatory at all times. On the one hand, there is a remarkable strictness regarding guests. A member introducing a guest must record the guest’s name in a large leather-bound book at the restaurant entrance so that fellow members know exactly with whom he is dining.

“What do you mean you need privacy?” members would say. “This is a private members’ club. We are entitled to know whom you have brought.”

Yet on the other hand, there is warmth, camaraderie, and directness in the relationships among members. Those dining alone traditionally sit at the long table in the center of the formal dining room, alongside other members. This encourages conversation and interaction.

As mentioned earlier, one might find oneself seated next to a former President of Argentina, discussing an entirely unrelated subject. Once inside the club, all members are equals.

I was equally impressed by the hospitality, warmth, and gracious welcome I received during my first visit as a guest of the Athenian Club.

Even more surprising was the long table inside the changing rooms: a vast dining table formally laid with linen tablecloths, silver candelabras, and silver cutlery. Before or after their workouts, members—some in suits, others in sportswear, others wearing only a swimsuit and towel—gather around it, eating together, exchanging jokes and good-natured banter, another cherished English tradition, while impeccably dressed waiters in tuxedos attend to them.

In conclusion, one of the things I most look forward to whenever I return to Buenos Aires is life within its clubs. It is a journey into Argentina’s glorious past, an experience from which anyone fortunate enough to partake can only benefit.

It offers a few precious hours of relaxation, romance, and reflection—a welcome respite from the relentless pace of modern society, which leaves us ever less time for ourselves and sweeps away everything in its path.