I've always liked Centrepoint. It may be because I have incredibly coarse architectural sensibilities and only ever think something's good if it looks like Gerry Anderson might have had a hand in it. It's looking particularly fine at the moment because it's exposed at the back due to some demolition work.
Apart from the proudly slabby way it looks, and the fact it's one of the few tall buildings in Central London, it's surrounded by pleasing atmos and conspiracy. It was empty for years when it opened, due to a shady/savvy real estate deal, which led to suspicions it doubled as a government nuclear shelter. It sits squat in the middle of St Giles which is the area of central London no-one's ever heard of but which is drenched in virulent and violent history so It's the kind of place yer Sinclairs and Ackroyds are keen on.
And it's fascinating because at street level it's a disaster, a horrible mash of bus-stops, cross-roads, traffic lights and a Thunderbirds-ish 60s sculpture in a litter-magnet pond. This seems to be a result of the above shady/savvy real estate deal.
And, in the basement, in the nasty subways under the traffic, leading to Tottenham Court Road tube, there's a brilliant snooker club where you can waste away a skiving afternoon.
Whenever we play that game where you fantasise about your dream home, I always mention Centrepoint. I'd dearly love a Tracy Family / James Bond penthouse pad on the top. Perhaps with a helipad. Certainly with a speed elevator down to the snooker club. And with speed-dial to Orbital, Foyles, Flat White and Argos. It seems though that I am to be thwarted; there's going to be a new private member's club called Paramount on the top two floors. I've never seen the point of such clubs, but in this context it makes sense. The perfect location, brilliant views, the right architectural atmospherics for swankery, a good place for a restaurant. I wonder if they'd let me live there. Just occasionally.



















