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Manchester is increasingly being dubbed a 'mini New York'– or a more painfully divisive 'Manc-hattan'. Admittedly, at first, it’s a bit ick-worthy, usually coming from recent uprooters immersing themselves in the city for the first time.
That said, give it an hour and you understand the comparison, with the industrial red-brick buildings, the external fire escapes and grid-like streets. The Northern Quarter (particularly Stevenson Square) has doubled up as New York in everything from The Crown to Captain America. Whole stretches of the city have convincingly stood in for 1940s Brooklyn and 1980s Manhattan without much set dressing at all.
Then there’s the skyline – loved or loathed by locals – with cranes constantly puncturing it and new glass towers cropping up by the minute. But Manchester isn’t trying to be New York or London because it never needed to be. It just happens to translate well both on and off screen, with the vibes on a constant high.
I’m a born and bred Manc, and have somehow managed to dodge the constant 'move to London' propaganda – especially in the media or creative industries. Not to sound pompous, but I’ve done London. I’ve done New York – I even came close to moving there a few years back – but I always find myself coming back home, and it's not entirely out of comfort and familiarity.
The shift over the last decade is impossible to ignore. It’s only now that people are properly opening their eyes to something that’s been building quietly all along. New openings on every corner, cafés doubling up as co-working and creative spaces, businesses and major events uprooting and moving north, including the BRITS, the MOBOs – and even Chanel for its Métiers d'Art show. And, as a city of notorious yappers, one conversation can easily land your next gig, and a few new friends while you’re at it.
A recent Bloomberg feature highlighted how Manchester’s economy is growing at roughly twice the rate of the UK average. The Times also cited how the Manchester creative industry (including content creators and influencers) contributes a staggering £1.4 billion a year and supports more than 48,000 jobs.
Human connection is Manchester’s superpower – with sarcasm and wit still landing the way they’re meant to. What people get wrong about the city is that it’s playing catch-up. It isn’t. It’s just moving differently.
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Which is where Mollie’s comes in...
Set inside the former Granada Studios – originally opened in the 1950s and once home to some of the UK’s most iconic television productions, as well as hosting everyone from The Beatles to the Sex Pistols – Mollie’s Manchester feels less like a hotel, and more like an indicator of where the city is heading.
From the outside, the building is understated, borderline underwhelming. Though there’s a strange beauty, given it remains a product of its time. In a city now filled with increasingly polished, sometimes clinical architecture, there's something refreshing about an establishment that doesn’t scream “I’M NEW” to lure people in.
Becca Monaghan
Step inside, though, and it’s a different story.
It’s big - surprisingly big. The lobby is filled with people working, meeting, passing through with laptops open, coffees on the go. Imagine a cosy XL living room with an artistic glow-up of burnt oranges, dark woods and soft lighting. It came as no surprise when I learned Soho House was behind the interior design, and also happens to be Mollie's next-door neighbour.
There are small details everywhere. A pink Granada wall hanging that pays homage to the building’s past. Plates lining the walls with names of late icons: Cilla Black, Shane, Harry Worth. Even vintage England caps sit on the walls of the co-working space.
Becca Monaghan
The diner is where the New York influence really comes through. Think deep red leather booths, chrome finishes, and counter seating.
Like a kid in a candy shop, I went all in. Chicken tenders and frickles to start, followed by a chicken burger and fries, with a Coke Zero for good measure. Portions were generous enough to rule out dessert, reluctantly. The Creme Egg shake will have to wait for next time.
Breakfast the next morning didn’t hold back either. At 9am, I was working through a flat iron steak with fried eggs – swapping fries for grilled tomatoes (I’m not a monster). I washed it down with the Coco Loco smoothie (mango, pineapple, lime, mint).
Around me, it felt like a genuine mix of the city. Families, couples, groups of friends, the occasional content creator, but not overly dominated by selfie sticks.
Service matched the setting. Friendly, natural, unforced. Maisie looked after me for dinner and again the next morning at breakfast, which says a lot in itself. Warm, switched on, and exactly what you want when you’re settling into somewhere new. I joked that she’ll be seeing a lot more of me now I know the ropes.
Becca Monaghan
Downstairs, Studio IV is somewhere that makes you forget you even have a phone. Which is rare. Especially now, when everyone’s half-present and checking something every five minutes. It’s actually one of my biggest pet peeves, so I’ll be bringing a few of my phone-addict friends here in the hope it sorts them out.
Dim lighting, live music, a steady buzz of conversation. It gives a jazz bar feel, but without any of the pretence. You’ve got people dressed up, others in jeans and a tee, and no one’s out of place. There's even one or two dogs, with better social lives than most people our age, perched on their own seats as though they've got their own reservation.
The live entertainment leans into soulful, R&B and reggae covers – live lounge style, but done properly. It's not tribute-act cringe, just genuinely good musicians that you’d go back for alone.
The cocktails are where it gets dangerous. I usually stick to wine, but the menu – New York inspired with an in-house twist – made it hard not to branch out. The Opening Number (limoncello, gin, white tea, coriander) was surprisingly sweet. Think sherbet. Easy to drink, which is always slightly risky.
And importantly, they’re not skimpy. No all-ice, no substance situation here. Proper drinks, with some weight to them.
There’s also a large outdoor terrace, with seating that works just as well for a date as it does for bigger groups. Heaters keep it warm enough that you forget you’re in Manchester, even when it’s freezing. Music carries outside, so you’re not missing out.
Becca Monaghan
Now, let’s discuss the suite itself. The one we’ve all been waiting for.
The first thing you notice is the amount of space with a slightly cinematic feel – very Lana Del Rey coded, but through a luxury lens. A Roberts radio sits to one side, and next to it, a cocktail-making set for Picantes and Old Fashioneds.
Becca Monaghan
The TV greets me with a personalised 'Welcome Becca' message, with options to book tables, explore the hotel, and tap into curated playlists.
There’s also Chromecast if you want to take control of your own music – which, in my case, meant a heavy rotation of Coachella headliners to help take the edge off 7am work pitches.
The modern details and amenities are what really set the space apart. For instance, there's no kettle. But before you go into an existential panic, that's because the kitchen is fitted with an instant boiling hot and cold water tap.
Becca Monaghan
Then, speaking of modern, over in the bedroom, one of the carved walls houses a full set of Dyson tools: straighteners, a hairdryer – and yes, a Dyson Airwrap – which is somewhat of a rarity in the hotel world.
Opposite stands a mirrored wall and a Peloton bike. Very Sex and the City. I didn’t test it – partly due to one or two Studio IV cocktails, partly due to Mr Big's unfortunate fate.
Becca Monaghan
The bath, though. That's really got me. Placed right next to the bed – which, if you’ve read anything I’ve written before, you’ll know is a personal weakness. And yes, it was used. A deep, end-of-night bath that made an early night feel like the right decision.
Beyond that, a second arched space opens up into a double sink and walk-in shower setup, which gives it that slightly spa-like feel without being over the top.
Becca Monaghan
It would be easy to call Mollie’s a slice of New York in Manchester – and that's not wrong. The references are there, deliberately so. But it never tips into awkward imitation.
If anything, places like Mollie’s reflect something more interesting: a city comfortable borrowing influence while still speaking in its own voice.
'Manc-hattan' might work as a caption, but the reality is better.
More information on Mollie's bookings and dining options here.
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