Club DD's revives a Plateau dance floor with lines around the block

On the night of the grand opening, the corner of Duluth and St-Laurent looked like it had rediscovered its heartbeat. A line wrapped down the block outside 3958 St-Laurent—once the iconic Blue Dog Motel—as basslines spilled into the street.

Inside, bodies pulsed under shimmering disco balls while strangers exchanged hugs and borrowed tables for their drinks. It was clear Montreal was ready for Club DD’s.

Club DD’s is the creation of Sarah Fobes, Mindy Stamper, Mint Simon, Laura Lloyd, and Kat Anderson—musicians, filmmakers, and nightlife veterans who turned an aging venue into a space built on inclusion and electricity.

“We wanted it to feel completely new,” Simon said. “We painted every wall, rebuilt the bar, added new lighting, even tore out the front wall so you can see straight to the dance floor. Blue Dog’s memories stay, but this is a fresh start.”

They pulled it off in barely five weeks. Stamper, power tools in hand, became the project’s “handy lesbian,” while Fobes jokes she was the “useless lesbian with big ideas and lighting design.” The team deep-cleaned, replastered, and built a new DJ booth themselves, determined to make the space shine.

Opening night rewarded the hustle. “People danced so hard they busted a panel in the sound booth,” Simon laughed. “By 9 p.m. we were at full capacity.” 

The turnout was so strong that Bar Champs upstairs—also owned by Fobes—hit capacity too, letting revelers bounce between the two bars in a spontaneous “nouveau gay village” vibe. The crowd spanned generations—friends of every decade moving together on the floor—a mix the owners say they “love to see.” Think Drugstore days (IYKYK).

“I grew up going to bars on the Main where you could drink cheap beer and dance—Korova, Sapphire, Jupiter Room—and I wanted to bring that same energy back to all the young people just discovering Montreal nightlife,” Lloyd said. “All we need now are $2 noodles to come back.”

A bar on a mission

Club DD’s is far from just another queer watering hole. “Almost a thousand new followers in the first two days shows how hungry people are for a space like this,” Simon said.

 “I’m so happy to be bringing a space back to the Main where people can reliably go and dance on a Thursday through Saturday without pretension, high door prices or deep house music (no offence),” added Laura Lloyd. Many nights are intentionally pay-what-you-can, a choice the team says keeps the door open to anyone who wants to dance.

That ethos shows. “I was sitting at the front booth and people—mostly women—kept leaving drinks on the table to dance or step outside, saying, ‘I’ll be right back,’” Fobes recalled. “You never see that. People trusted the space immediately.”

Programming is as ambitious as the build-out: Tuesday “free-play” dance nights, Wednesday karaoke, Thursday drag showcases, Friday and Saturday dance parties, and Sunday daytime kikis. They’re already talking collaborations with local promoters like HomoPop and Sweet Like Honey, and eyeing everything from Riot Grrrl nights to live-band takeovers to keep the calendar fresh. “Think New York City energy—stand, dance, tip your queens,” Simon said. “And as an artist myself, we make sure performers are paid properly.”

Two kisses and a lost phone

Mid-interview, the door swung open and a young woman dashed in hunting for the phone she’d lost on opening night. Between hugs she grinned, saying “I made out with two people and had the best time ever,” before promising to be back next weekend. The owners roared with laughter—exactly the kind of chaotic, affectionate energy they hope to bottle. 

Or as Lloyd put it: “Gays just want to have fun.”

A fresh pulse on the Main

Montreal’s Village has struggled in recent years, and queer women’s spaces have nearly disappeared. Club DD’s answers that loss with a defiantly inclusive approach. “It might lean sapphic,” Simon admitted, “but we want everyone—gay men, trans folks, allies—to feel welcome. We’re creating a mix, not a silo.”

That inclusivity extends to the team itself: a brand-new staff representing the community they serve. “Quality over experience,” Anderson said. “We hire for warmth and openness; the rest we can teach.”

The old Blue Dog’s eagle and angel statues still glint gold above the bar with a wink at the past, but the vibe is forward-looking—retro-futurist branding, S/O to designer Jessie Kravitz, sparkling disco lights that “look like vaginas when they reflect,” and an already-buzzing social media presence.

As the crowd spilled between Club DD’s and Bar Champs that first weekend, it felt like a glimpse of what Saint-Laurent once was—and could be again. 

“We want to rebuild community on the Main,” Fobes said simply. 

Judging by the line that refused to shrink and a dance floor sustained throughout the night, Montreal is more than ready.