Margot Hauer-King and Emmet McDermott didn’t plan on becoming business partners. “Full disclosure, we were set up,” 31-year-old Hauer-King tells me. On a blind date in the spring of 2023, the pair quickly found themselves deep in conversation—only it wasn’t romantic, unless one considers discussing restaurant and bar wallpaper seductive. Spending the entire day together, Hauer-King and 37-year-old McDermott realized they shared a vision for a new kind of nightlife space in New York.
“I don’t want to go clubbing much anymore,” says Hauer-King, “but I am too often at a dinner on a Friday night where the meal ends and everyone says, ‘What should we do?’”
By Hauer-King and McDermott’s final stop on their first date—Raf’s restaurant in NoHo—they had created a plan for an after-dinner club and art space. The aim was to bring back the concept of an “unofficial club,” says Hauer-King, which “used to exist in New York” It’s not exactly a bar, nor is it a nightclub or members club. Rather, some elusive, nearly extinct middle ground.
This month, that plan became a reality, when Hauer-King and McDermott opened People’s in a historic Greenwich Village town house. Oh, and the food is by Raf’s.
Born in 1993 to the American theater director Debra Hauer and the British restaurateur Jeremy King—whose London establishments include Le Caprice (now Arlington), the Ivy, and J Sheekey—Hauer-King grew up surrounded by creative minds. Her younger brother, Jonah Hauer-King, had a passion for acting, most recently playing Prince Eric in the live-action production of The Little Mermaid. Margot, however, pursued a career in brand strategy. “My entire family thinks I’m this desperately corporate person,” she says, laughing, telling me that they gave her a briefcase for her 22nd birthday.
Hauer-King studied comparative literature and political science at Brown University. After graduating in 2015, she returned to London for a job at an advertising agency. But in 2020, at the height of the Brexit campaign and the coronavirus pandemic, she realized she wanted a change. Hauer-King only planned to move to New York for a year. “I feel like a happier, better version of myself here,” she says, now unable to imagine going back to London. “The fact that 90 percent of people in New York had the experience of being a new kid there at some point makes people very generous and quick to pull others in.” It’s the very reason that People’s has the potential to thrive in the city.
“If I hadn’t met Emmet, I don’t know if I’d be doing this,” says Hauer-King. They knew they had found a home for People’s the moment they walked into the town house on West 13th Street. “It’s done half the work for us, quite frankly,” says Hauer-King about the century-old building, which was once the location of art dealer Edith Halpert’s Downtown Gallery. Hauer-King and Emmett decided to restore the space to its original function: a buzzing salon.
A fireplace and tucked-away booths make up the People’s parlor room; a dance floor and tables arranged for fraternizing complete the salon; and a gallery features a 19th-century bar, hand-carved in France, under the original 1920s pyramid skylights, and rotating exhibitions of contemporary art. At midnight, fries are served to everyone—on the house.
“What keeps people coming back is a team that makes them feel special,” says Hauer-King, for whom inclusivity was non-negotiable. When McDermott floated the idea of requiring dinner jackets for male guests, Hauer-King “had a really allergic reaction” to it. Preferring to reflect the culture of downtown New York, she advocated for the dress code to be “come as you are.”
The co-founders also hope to create a balance between community and privacy. Guests are asked not to take photos, though the rule will not be enforced by stickers on phone cameras. While a night at the club should feel curated enough that someone might walk in and recognize a friend, they should not be able to associate every person in the room with one style or clique. “It’s like a thoughtfully planned dinner party,” she says.
Hauer-King hopes the club, which is completely soundproofed and open until two A.M., will be an addition to the neighborhood, rather than a disturbance. Nestled in Greenwich Village, far from the buzz of Brooklyn or the East Village, it is meant to be a destination. “You don’t stumble upon us,” she says. “You make a choice to go.”
Jeanne Malle is an Associate Editor at AIR MAIL
