Dialogue: Why clubbing is catching on fast

I've been invited to join a fledgling mah-jong club, which I am delighted about because I have harboured a desire to play the game for some time but could never find punters with the same enthusiasm. When I tried to drum up support, the usual reply was, "Mah-jong? No thanks. I'll wait until I'm in the retirement home."

However, my mah-jong buddies are no splinter group from the local outdoor bowls club but an eclectic mix of vital, interesting and fashionable women whom I am looking forward to hooking up with once a month. And I am putting my mah-jong tiles on this becoming the new knitting circle or quilting bee for working women wanting some female company with a hard edge.

I used to chuckle over the speculation that Prince Charles had to make an appointment to see his own mother. But these days appointment socialising is sounding strangely familiar, even to mere lay folk. While networking and socialising used to be spontaneous and organic, today to network is a sport, a skill and a business essential. And the same goes for socialising. One must work at it, diary-note it and honour it.

Although busy and congested with people, life can often be isolating. And we all need to be part of something, particularly in a disparate city like Auckland, which has little sense of community. If you are not a member of a sport club, cultural or church group, how do you extend yourself socially?

Thus tiny clubs are hatching everywhere that cherish cultural or social pursuits. These clubs provide opportunity to meet others but under a new and different premise. In doing so they inherently supply starting points for conversations and guidelines for socialising with acquaintances and strangers.

The mah-jong club will fill a void left by the art group I belonged to for five years before we literally sold up. Art group sounds a lot more pretentious and cerebral than it was. It was fun and a chance to learn about something while drinking wine and eating good nibbles.

But what I enjoyed most was that there was no social obligation to see the art folk more than once a month. Conversation was always positive and refreshing, never lapsing into mundane everyday drivel. Everyone seemed interesting and interested - probably more so that we seemed to our closer friends.

Then there's the most ubiquitous club of all - the book club. Spreading faster than a virus, we are all at least once removed from a book club member. Book clubs seemed to emerge at the end of the 80s when share club members were staring blankly at each other, desperate for a pastime that involved minimal investment.

More than a decade later book clubs are living proof that computers will not kill the printed word and indeed spell big business. Huge retail chains compile their own book club lists, Roger Hall wrote a great play about them, and broadcasting mega star Oprah has her brand of book club she promotes through TV and the internet.

While not gender-specific, book clubs seem to skew toward women. But these are not just the domain of the highbrow and earnest or bored and lonely housewives with suburban neurosis. Book club members have a tendency to be working mothers who hanker for female companionship over and above idle gossip and swapping recipes.

These women plough through relentless schedules packed with work and family commitments, often leaving little time to nurture their own interests. By exercising their intelligence and airing their learned opinion, book club night gets them feeling instantly valued and important.

Speaking to one friend about the hidden significance of book clubs, she launched into a deep and meaningful rave about her driving need to read contemporary fiction, to educate and challenge herself mentally. It sounded convincing until her hubby chimed in suggesting that the book club was more about a bunch of quasi-intellectuals using literature as an excuse for drunkenness.

I discovered it was even more hard-core than that. This smart group of ladies had a young, handsome, male literary consultant who was occasionally invited to clarify issues. In other words after a few drinks they wheeled in the beefcake under the guise of wanting help with a hard question.

Mah-jong starts next week and I am determined not to be the one to pull out at the last minute because of overcommitments. Besides if I'm not there the other women might talk behind my back.