In a world full of diverse interests and passions, it’s no surprise that people have formed clubs and societies to celebrate even the most peculiar and niche hobbies. From exclusive high-IQ groups to secretive dining organizations, here are ten oddly specific clubs that you might be able to join.
Related: 10 Historical Dining Clubs That Will Put You Off Your Food
In a world where intelligence comes in all shapes and sizes, a club caters to the super-elite thinkers: The Giga Society. While Mensa might be the go-to for those with high IQs, the Giga Society takes exclusivity to a new level. To be considered for membership, you must have an IQ in the top 0.0000001% of the population. This isn’t your everyday IQ test; the Giga Society uses the Cattell III B test to challenge even the most brilliant minds.
With just a handful of members scattered worldwide, this club isn’t for the faint of intellect. It’s a gathering of some of the sharpest minds, a group that thrives on solving the world’s most complex puzzles. The society was founded in 1966 by Dr. Paul Cooijmans, a Dutch psychologist known for his work in intelligence testing. Driven by a fascination with cognitive abilities beyond the norm, he established the Giga Society as the pinnacle of intellectual achievement.
Membership not only grants access to a network of extraordinary thinkers but also opens doors to exclusive events and forums where members engage in discussions that push the boundaries of human understanding. The society’s emphasis on the Cattell III B test underscores its commitment to identifying minds capable of grappling with the most intricate enigmas, cementing its reputation as the ultimate enclave for cognitive virtuosos.
When it comes to secret societies, the Seven Society stands out as an enigma wrapped in kindness. Founded at the University of Virginia in the late 1800s, this group is dedicated to anonymous acts of goodwill and charity. What sets them apart is their distinctive calling card: the number “7,” often appearing in unexpected places across the campus. Members remain hidden, their identities known only to themselves and perhaps a select few, fueling rumors and fascination.
The Seven Society has been responsible for significant donations to scholarships and charitable causes, leaving a trail of positivity in its wake. Their impact extends far beyond the university grounds, from funding innovative research projects to contributing to disaster relief efforts. The allure of secrecy combined with the thrill of making a difference adds a layer of intrigue to this society. It reminds us that behind closed doors, some quietly strive to leave the world a better place while maintaining an air of mystique.
Over the years, the society’s acts of benevolence have taken various forms, including grants to struggling students facing financial hardships and discreet assistance to local community initiatives. Their commitment to remaining entirely anonymous has resulted in countless speculations regarding their membership, leading to a campus-wide guessing game that only deepens the mystique surrounding the society. The legacy of the Seven Society serves as a reminder that even in a digital age, true acts of kindness can be carried out selflessly, evoking curiosity and inspiring others to embrace empathy and make a positive impact in their own ways.
For Disney devotees, Club 33 is a dream realized. Nestled within Disney parks worldwide, this exclusive club offers a touch of luxury to the Magic Kingdom. With limited membership spots and a considerable annual fee, Club 33 offers a haven for those who seek a respite from the hustle and bustle of the theme parks. This unique establishment holds an intriguing history, having been conceived by Walt Disney himself as a hidden oasis for VIP guests.
Behind its unassuming facade, Club 33 houses an elegant retreat where members can indulge in fine dining and special events. It’s an opportunity to experience the enchantment of Disney with a dash of sophistication. The interior is adorned with rare Disney memorabilia and artistic touches, immersing members in a realm of creativity and opulence.
Moreover, membership grants access to the club’s amenities and offers unique park privileges like expedited ride access and backstage tours, allowing enthusiasts to delve even deeper into the Disney enchantment. Whether you’re dining on exquisite cuisine in its lavishly decorated chambers or sipping a crafted cocktail on its private balcony overlooking the park, Club 33 unfurls an extraordinary dimension of the Disney experience.
The Beefsteak Club holds a special place in the annals of culinary eccentricities. Born in 18th-century London, this gastronomic society celebrates excess and camaraderie with a peculiar twist. Imagine feasting on copious amounts of steak while donning traditional garb: blue tailcoats, yellow waistcoats, and white cravats.
The Beefsteak Club harks back to a time of indulgence and revelry, a society where men could savor the pleasures of meat and company. While it might seem odd in today’s health-conscious world, it captures a slice of history where culinary extravagance was celebrated. The club’s rituals go beyond the gastronomic; they include toasting the meat by drinking port wine from peculiar elongated glasses called “yard of ale” glasses, adding a playful element to the proceedings.
This unique culinary haven reveals the importance of tradition and continuity. The club’s membership is passed down through generations, maintaining a sense of heritage and exclusivity. It showcases how the spirit of camaraderie and shared experience can bridge the gap between centuries.
Science and humor come together in Project Steve, a delightful nod to scientific endeavors. This playful response to organizations that use lists of scientists to promote their agendas is exclusively for scientists with names like Steve, Stephanie, or Stephen, who endorse the theory of evolution.
The quirkiness of Project Steve extends beyond its criteria. Highlighting the significant number of scientists named Steve who support evolution—now numbering over 1,500—it humorously underscores the robust consensus among experts. This ever-growing list playfully showcases the diversity of Steves in the scientific community, highlighting their collective dedication to evolutionary biology.
Moreover, Project Steve subverts the tactics of those who misuse lists to lend credibility to unscientific claims. By focusing exclusively on a single, specific name, this project humorously exposes the fallacies of such practices, revealing the absurdity of drawing conclusions based on names rather than expertise.
In politics, the Alfalfa Club adds a dash of satire to the mix, infusing a lighthearted touch into the often serious realm of Washington, D.C. This annual gathering, rooted in tradition since 1913, brings together a vibrant blend of political leaders, business magnates, and celebrities, creating an eclectic tapestry of personalities. Named after the unassuming alfalfa plant known for its unremarkable growth, the Alfalfa Club cleverly mirrors this humility by playfully embracing those who don’t take themselves too seriously.
The centerpiece of the club’s activities is its renowned black-tie dinner, where wit and jest take center stage alongside camaraderie. This event is a melting pot of influential figures and cutting-edge humor as attendees engage in good-natured ribbing and jestful banter. The Alfalfa Club’s distinctiveness lies in its ability to offer a rare respite from the gravitas of politics, allowing heavyweight politicians to shed their formal personas and revel in shared laughter.
Beyond its surface fun, the Alfalfa Club subtly underscores the human side of political leaders, demonstrating that even the most influential figures have a capacity for joy and camaraderie. This facet is essential in breaking down the walls of formality and fostering connections that extend beyond policy debates.
In the realm of frigid challenges, the 300 Club indisputably claims the icy throne. Nestled within Antarctica’s unforgiving embrace lies the McMurdo Station, home to this audacious club that beckons its members to a test of mettle in the most unorthodox manner. As temperatures plummet to an unthinkable -100°F (-73°C), participants shed their layers, embarking on a madcap sprint encircling the South Pole. But this audacity doesn’t end there. No, it’s merely the prelude to the heart of this chilling endeavor.
With a staggering temperature differential of 300 degrees, contenders catapult themselves from the polar freeze into the embrace of a blistering sauna, where temperatures soar to a searing 200°F (93°C). Such a feat necessitates nerves honed from steel and an insatiable thirst for adventure bordering on the reckless. This ritual is nothing short of a tribute to the unwavering resolve of humanity and its propensity to welcome the extraordinary, even within the icy clutches of adversity.
The 300 Club is a living testament to those who discover rapture in stretching their boundaries, unshackled by even the most hostile environments. It embodies the spirit of those who dare to flirt with their limitations, using them as launchpads into new realms of exhilaration.
In a world where time often rules our lives, the 20-Minute Society invites us to embrace spontaneity. This unconventional club encourages members to gather for impromptu activities within a tight 20-minute timeframe. From picnics to frisbee games, the goal is to inject excitement into routines and relish unexpected moments.
The 20-Minute Society captures living in the present and finding joy in the unplanned. It reminds us that life is full of fleeting opportunities, and sometimes, the most memorable experiences are the ones that catch us by surprise. In a world of hectic schedules, this club encourages us to pause, connect, and savor the magic of spontaneity.
When it comes to conspiracy theories, the Bilderberg Club reigns as a magnet for speculation. This annual conference gathers a select group of around 130 influential figures from Europe and North America. Discussions are held behind closed doors, sparking intrigue and questions about potential global influence.
While the Bilderberg Club asserts that it’s a forum for informal discussions, its air of mystery continues to fuel curiosity. It reminds us that even in our interconnected world, some gatherings are still shrouded in secrecy. The Bilderberg Club invites us to ponder the complexities of power, influence, and the intrigue that often surrounds the elite.
The Dracula Society, founded in 1973 by Dr. Donald A. Reed, is an organization dedicated to studying, appreciating, and celebrating vampire literature, film, and culture. Focusing on Bram Stoker’s iconic character Count Dracula, the society delves into the various interpretations and adaptations of vampires in media.
The society serves as a meeting point for enthusiasts, scholars, and fans, providing a platform for discussions, screenings, lectures, and events related to vampire folklore and literature. Members often engage in conversations about the evolution of vampire mythology, the symbolism behind these creatures of the night, and their influence on pop culture.
Over the years, the society has expanded its scope to encompass a broader range of vampire-related topics, including literature, art, history, and folklore worldwide. By fostering a community of like-minded individuals who share a passion for all things vampiric, the Dracula Society keeps the legacy of Count Dracula alive while appreciating the broader cultural impact of these captivating and immortal creatures.
]]>The 18th and 19th centuries saw a growth in a whole range of clubs. Gentleman’s clubs, like White’s, flourished everywhere. Special interest societies sprang up. Whatever your hobby, interest, religion, or political persuasion, there was a club for you.
It was almost as if people didn’t want to go home.
The dining club, however, offered a particular experience. Good food, sophisticated conversation, brandy, cigars, and, most of all, discretion. But some clubs went further. They sought to combine intellectual interests with food.
As their members had wide-ranging and sometimes downright peculiar interests, the combination didn’t always work.
The Ichthyophagous Club was one of the more unusual dining clubs in New York. It met from 1880 to 1887. The club held an elaborate annual banquet with the purpose of eating as many unusual marine creatures as possible. Their goal, they said, was to prove that there was a whole variety of edible creatures that were going uneaten, which they felt was a shame.
Club members included fishing experts (but not fishermen, who were considered to be too low-class), foodies, journalists, and writers. The first dinner was reported in the The New York Times and was said to include moonfish cooked Spanish-style, sea robin fish, and a lettuce salad.
By the third year, they were serving dolphin steaks, lamprey eels (complete with teeth) rolled in breadcrumbs, and dogfish shark croquettes. Their final banquet included 15 types of sea creatures, ranging from conventional salmon to stewed terrapin.[1]
It was said that dolphin tasted particularly unpleasant. However, alligator steak went down well and starfish soup was a hit. The club had its own song, which praised the variety of the ocean and the bravery of the man prepared to eat his way across it.
Ultimately, the club did not last. Could it be that the members couldn’t stomach the thought of more ruddy fish?
The Glutton Club was not founded so that members could stuff their faces with as much food as possible. Rather, members gathered to try “strange flesh.” Which sounds even more disturbing.
Under the presiding eye of a young Charles Darwin, the club sought to try out new foods. They began by eating fowl and tried hawk and bittern. But, after a particularly tough and stringy owl, they moved on to meat instead.
Darwin continued his adventurous eating habits during his travels by eating armadillo and some unidentified animals. It seemed that nothing was off-limits. One evening, however, he jumped up in the middle of dinner when he realized that he was eating a rare bird. He scraped up the leftovers and took them away to study.[2]
The unsavory thing about the Bullingdon Club was not so much the food as the membership. Founded in the 18th century, the organization opened its membership only to select Oxford undergraduates who had enough money and connections to buy their way out of trouble.
The dining club soon developed a reputation for lavish feasts, huge alcohol consumption, and vile behavior. The rich aristocrats vandalized both private and university property, abused the staff who cooked for them, sexually harassed the waitresses, trashed the restaurants, and engaged in bizarre and illegal dining rituals.
Although the club still exists today, its membership has dwindled—most recently due to the publicity surrounding the initiation ritual of a British prime minister who had once been a member of the club. Though the details are unclear, the ceremony was believed to have included a pig’s mouth, an open zipper, and a certain part of the prime minister’s anatomy.[3]
The Beaver Club was founded in Canada in 1785 with membership restricted to fur traders. To become members, candidates had to have overwintered in the harsh Northwest Territories and be upstanding citizens.
The club met once every two weeks. Once a year, they had a large banquet, which all members were expected to attend. It was one of those clubs with a lot of rules. Attendance at the dinners was compulsory unless someone was indisposed by reason of illness or business.
Members were encouraged to recount stories of the hardships and dangers that they had endured during their travels, all while wearing their ostentatious club medals and making toasts to “the fur trade in all its branches.”
At the meal, pemmican was served. It was a mix of dried buffalo meat, berries, and fat. Pemmican was a staple food of these voyageurs while out in the wilderness. At the club, however, it was served on silver platters in a luxurious dining room.[4]
At the end of the evening, these hardened fur traders sat on the floor in a row, as if in a large canoe, and pretended to row their imaginary boats while singing masculine songs.
In 1764, writer Samuel Johnson and artist Joshua Reynolds set up their own dining club for artistic and literary gentlemen. With the aim of providing good food and even better conversation, the group originally consisted of fewer than a dozen men, all of whom were “good fellows.”
The club’s motto was: Esto perpetua (“Let it be perpetual”). This sounded impressive, but no one seems to know what it meant.[5]
The club met in the Turk’s Head Tavern in Soho, London, and members ate a hearty supper followed by lots of talking and drinking. Membership continued to grow, much to the disgust of the founding members. They were particularly annoyed by the intake of politicians, which seemed to put the founders off their food.
In 1904, a group of adventurers decided to form their own club in New York with the aim of promoting adventure and conservation. Members have included pioneers who were the first to climb Mount Everest, walk on the Moon, and dive to the deepest depths of the ocean.
The Explorers Club has a number of strange artifacts, including a “Yeti scalp” and the remains of a four-tusked elephant. Once a year, the organization holds a dinner for members and guests. These dinners have given a whole new meaning to the term “exotic food.”
The meals are prepared by the finest chefs and include such delicacies as tarantula and big game animals. However, in 1951, the club caused controversy when it was discovered that they were eating meat from a frozen woolly mammoth that had been found in Alaska.
The mammoth was supposed to have been discovered by an explorer with the nickname “Glacier Priest.” A sample of the meat was kept in a museum and was later DNA-tested. It turned out that the meat was actually from a green sea turtle.[6]
The Explorers Club exists today, and the annual banquet still occurs. However, woolly mammoth is not on the menu.
Princeton University is known for its large number of eating clubs. Its traditional application process, called “Bicker,” still occurs. The first official club, known as Ivy, was formed in 1879.
Applicants must undergo 10 one-on-one interviews with members on a variety of subjects. Then the entire club of over 100 members votes on the prospective candidate. To be admitted, the candidate must receive 100 percent of the votes, which is quite a task.
The idea of the eating clubs began when a group of wealthy undergraduates, unimpressed by the meager offerings on campus, decided to arrange their own meals. They rented rooms in Ivy Hall, hired a cook and waitress, and bought themselves a billiard table for after-dinner entertainment.
Today, Princeton has 11 eating clubs, which still use the “Bicker” process to weed out applicants.[7]
The Divan Club was established in 1744 by John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich, and Sir Francis Dashwood. Membership was available only to those who had visited the Ottoman Empire. In fact, the club took its name from the Turkish word for a council or meeting of rulers. The purpose of the club was to allow members to talk about their experiences in the East.
After dinner, the members would make the club toast, “To The Harem.”
The club lasted less than two years. It is thought that the main reason for the organization’s demise was that the entry criteria were so strict that almost no one qualified for membership.[8]
During the 18th and 19th centuries, several dining clubs bore the name Beefsteak Club. The steak was seen as a patriotic symbol and was especially associated with the liberal politics of the Whig Party.
The first of these clubs was founded in 1705, and its full title was The Sublime Society of Beef Steaks. It was immediately successful, and its membership included the great, the good, and the royal.
Meetings were held weekly. Members wore blue coats and buff waistcoats with brass buttons with the words “Beef and Liberty” impressed on them. Dinner was always steak with baked potatoes and was accompanied by large amounts of port.
More Beefsteak Clubs were opened, each having its own rules and its own membership. But all of them upheld the importance of liberty and the sublimeness of beef in steak form. Though the club died out during the 19th century, it was re-formed in 1966 and has met continuously since.[9]
The Hellfire Club—or, to use its less catchy official name, Order of the Friars of St. Francis of Wycombe—was started in the mid-18th century by Sir Francis Dashwood (yes, the man who also started the Divan Club). He bought an old Cistercian abbey to use as a meeting house.
The abbey was ideal as it allowed him to express his deep hatred of Roman Catholics by dressing up and being silly. He devised the club and its rituals to be a mockery of the Catholic Church. In fact, the club’s rituals were deliberate pseudo-religious mumbo jumbo.
Twice a year, the organization held a chapter meeting. Members wore hats that were a cross between a beret and a clown’s hat and had the words “Love and Friendship” embossed on the front.
The men sat over sumptuous and extravagant dinners and were encouraged to bring ladies “of a cheerful, lively disposition.” Club members were called “monks,” and their female companions were considered to be their “lawful wives,” at least for the duration of their visit.
On one occasion, a member smuggled into the chapel a baboon dressed as a devil and hid it inside a cope chest. During the ceremonial portion of the evening, the baboon was released. No doubt having been terrified at being shut in, the baboon promptly rampaged through the chapel.
The animal leaped onto Lord Sandwich. Thinking he was about to be dragged down to hell, Sandwich suddenly found religion and, to the merriment of all, made a full confession of his sins.
In 1762, Dashwood was appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer. It suddenly occurred to him that the public might not appreciate the humorous nature of the club in quite the way he did. He wound up The Hellfire Club, stripping the abbey of any sign of the organization’s presence.[10]
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