By Matthew Parsons, Lead Design Studios

With Paddington opening this month, we wanted to take you behind the scenes of how it came together. So we sat down with Matthew Parsons of Lead Design Studios - the studio behind the design of our clubs - and asked him to walk us through the thinking that shaped the build, from the constraints of the site to the small details you'll never consciously notice. 

Here's the build in his words.

This is the part I always look forward to. The drawings are done, the site is finished and any day now the doors open and a building I've lived with for months stops being mine and becomes everyone else's. Paddington opens this month - and of all the Padel Social Club projects I've worked on, this is the one I've been most impatient to see full. Let me tell you why.

No two sites are ever the same

Every Padel Social Club lands on my desk as a different problem to solve, and that's exactly why I enjoy them. At The O2 we were designing inside one of the most recognisable structures in the country, working around infrastructure that was already there. Kentish Town means transforming an existing site with split levels and a topography that fights you a little. 

Paddington came with its own brief entirely: deliver a full sport, hospitality and social destination in one of the most connected corners of central London, and make it feel like it has always belonged there.

People assume constraints get in the way of good design. In my experience it's the opposite. A tight site forces you to challenge every assumption and earn every square metre - and the best results almost always come from the hardest briefs. Paddington was a hard brief. You'll feel the payoff the moment you walk in.

A place to stay, not just to play

The most important thing I've learned designing these clubs is that a padel venue isn't really a sports facility. It's somewhere you want to spend time. The courts are the catalyst - but everything around them decides whether you leave straight after your match or stay for another two hours.

So we never design courts and arrange a site around them. We design the whole experience as one connected system: the arrival, the food and drink, where you watch from, how the social spaces flow into one another. Get that right and the site starts doing something quietly clever - it tells you where to go without a single sign. You move through it on instinct. That feeling of ease is the hardest thing to engineer and the first thing you notice when it's done well.

At Paddington that thinking shaped everything. The spectator zones sit where the energy is. The hospitality isn't tucked away in a corner - it's part of the main event. Wherever you are in the site, you're connected to the buzz of a game happening nearby. That's by design, not by accident.

Built for a city that never sits still

Paddington stood out to me because of what the location makes possible. The connectivity is exceptional, the footfall is relentless, and the area has had serious investment lately - including the greening along Kingdom Street, which we were determined to complement rather than work against.

But the thing that genuinely excited me was the sheer range of people the club will hold across a single day. Office workers escaping at lunch. Residents unwinding after work. Visitors passing through. Corporate teams making a night of it. Every one of them uses the space differently, which means the site has to be flexible by design - able to feel calm and easy at 11am and electric by 7pm. Designing for that rhythm is a proper challenge, and it's one of the reasons this venue feels so alive.

The long game

There's a temptation in this industry to chase the render - the dramatic image that sells the idea. I've never been interested in that. What I care about is architecture that actually gets built, and then keeps performing long after opening day. Neighbourhoods change, expectations move on, and a good site has to take all of that in its stride without needing to be torn apart and started again.

So we obsess over the things you'll never consciously notice: durability, adaptability, the bones of the place. Get those right and the design earns its keep for years. For me, a venue succeeds when it delivers a complete experience - somewhere that feels as good to spend an evening in as it does to play in - and keeps doing that long after the opening buzz fades. That was the goal at Paddington from day one.

See it for yourself

I've spent a long time imagining how Paddington will feel when it's busy - the sound of it, the movement, the energy of a full house. This month, I finally get to stop imagining.

I genuinely can't wait for you to see it. Come and play, stay for the rest, and tell me whether we got it right.

Doors open this month.