Alain and Vickie opened this Mile End boutique-workshop in 2020 after 15 years in furniture and lamp-making, and the space reflects that expertise. Curated 20th-century pieces—Scandinavian lamps, vintage American furniture—are hand-restored on-site, with wood refinishing and lighting rewiring done to exacting standards before anything hits the floor.

The Saint-Urbain showroom feels more gallery than store: spare, considered, open weekends for browsing. It's a response to cookie-cutter decor, built for people who care about provenance and craft. Every piece carries a story; Morceau makes sure it's worth telling.

Michael Stratulak bet on Notre-Dame Ouest in 2007, back when Little Burgundy was still finding its footing. The concept store he envisioned—familiar from Paris and London, absent in Montreal—helped set the tone for the neighbourhood's transformation. A 2014 move to a larger space allowed the inventory to expand: furniture, lighting, decor, bath and spa essentials, all selected with a design-forward eye.

Beige has evolved alongside its surroundings, balancing cosmopolitan sophistication with distinctly Montreal sensibility. It's a shop that reflects its community—urban, curious, willing to invest in pieces that hold up.

Since 2009, this Saint-Laurent shop has been sourcing industrial relics from 1850 to 1950—factory furniture, hospital cabinets, workshop lamps, the occasional taxidermy piece—and displaying them in a crisp, white-walled space that feels part antique emporium, part art installation.

The inventory spans Victorian, Bauhaus, Art Deco, with room for modern boho and brutalist touches: pottery, textiles, rugs. Designers and retro enthusiasts hunt here for Jieldé lamps, green enamel pendants, bowling alley tables. Style Labo turns forgotten objects into statement pieces, proving that what's old can feel newly essential.

Longtime friends Laurence and Caroline have run this Plateau boutique since 2009, gradually widening the focus from upcycled furniture and custom lighting into a broader lifestyle edit. Shelves mix small-batch ceramics and textiles by local artists with design-forward brands—stationery, giftable objects, pieces that feel personal without being precious.

The approach is practical: objects chosen for utility, character, and the ability to sit comfortably in a real home. It's a shop that reflects how people actually live now, built on friendship and a shared eye for things worth keeping.

Elisheva San Nicolas built this concept store around bold creativity and global sourcing—European sophistication meets Mediterranean warmth meets Mexican soul. Rotating seasonal collections sit alongside timeless staples, with pieces that could have come from a sun-soaked Oaxacan market or a tucked-away Parisian atelier.

Sustainability runs through the operation: packaging made from potato pulp, collaborators committed to ethical production, a strong focus on women-led businesses. It's a shop that proves responsible design doesn't have to sacrifice beauty or personality—and that a good eye can make the world feel smaller in the best way.

This Rosemont boutique operates on a simple philosophy: buy less, buy better. Every product meets a 16-point responsibility checklist—recycled materials, ethical labour, zero animal by-products, local production where possible. The result is a selection of home goods and accessories built for longevity rather than trend cycles.

DDD makes sustainable living feel like a lifestyle upgrade rather than a chore. Timeless design, durable quality, ethical responsibility—it's a trifecta that guides every choice on the shelves. For anyone tired of cheap throwaways, this is furniture shopping with a conscience.

This 10,000-square-foot warehouse sits well outside the city core, but the trek rewards hunters willing to dig. Secondhand furniture, appliances, homewares, clothing, vinyl, books, jewellery—stock arrives from movers, clients, and junk haulers, then gets sifted, sorted, and priced from pocket change to four figures.

Founded to divert usable goods from landfill, EcoDepot curates rather than dumps, making the scale less overwhelming than you'd expect. A social media-savvy community helps identify mystery objects. For DIYers, collectors, and anyone with a soft spot for the forgotten and oddball, it's a haul worth making.

Two floors of gritty, sprawling treasure hunting. Mid-century furniture, vintage glassware, vinyl records, rare comics, oddball knickknacks—stacks upon stacks, waiting to be unearthed. Vendors range from seasoned pros to stone-faced holdouts; bartering is part of the experience.

You're as likely to walk out with a '50s teak dresser as a box of obscure records. The buzz keeps collectors coming back, losing hours in the maze. It's not polished, not curated in the boutique sense—it's a flea market that rewards patience, instinct, and the thrill of the hunt.

LOVACO approaches furniture the way some approach cooking: start with good materials, don't overcomplicate, make choices you can live with. The showroom leans into sustainably made pieces—FSC-certified wood, upholstery from recycled PET fibres, plant-based leather alternatives—without turning shopping into a lecture.

Sofas, tables, rugs, lighting, and smaller objects are laid out to be tested and imagined at home. Custom furniture, generous swatch libraries, and hands-on design support make the process feel less like retail and more like informed decision-making. It's sustainability without the sacrifice.

Fanny Vergnolle de Villers founded this shop on Saint-Laurent in 2012 before expanding to Toronto and Saint-Lambert. The growth tracks with the appeal: a sharp edit of vintage- and industrial-leaning décor that feels deliberate rather than trend-driven.

Furniture, lighting, cushions, kitchen pieces, and lifestyle objects—jewellery, bags, candles—share space without fuss. Some items lean investment-level; others are small, affordable surprises. The inventory refreshes constantly, keeping browsing unpredictable in a good way. VdeV works best as a place to wander, spot something unexpected, and let the room come together from there.

Elif Filyos launched this studio in late 2020 with a sharp eye for design history—Mid-Century, Space Age, Modernist, Postmodern—and has built a following across Canada and the U.S. since. The Beaubien West space operates by appointment, offering a tactile experience for those hunting rare pieces with character.

A 2021 overhaul refined the approach, but the focus remains: furniture and home goods that let nostalgia and modernity coexist. It's a destination for design enthusiasts who want pieces that speak to both past and future, curated by someone who knows the difference between vintage and merely old.

Geneviève Cyr and Michel Swift—both trained in interior and industrial design—opened this boutique as a celebration of Québec-made furniture and objects. Six years later, the selection has expanded to include international names without losing the focus on timeless utility.

Danish brand Hay's chairs and tables share space with Normann Copenhagen's playful home accessories: candleholders, coat racks, minimalist lighting. Everything balances aesthetics and durability, chosen for how it performs over time. It's a shop for people who want design that works as hard as it looks.

Vintage treasures and collectible design meet here, bridging eras with pieces selected for craftsmanship, colour, and form. Postmodern icons sit alongside wrought iron antiques, each chosen to elevate daily spaces into something worth looking at.

Beyond retail, Le Centerpiece offers furniture rentals for film shoots and events, showroom space for creative projects, and bespoke design services. Collaborations with Nespresso, Vans, and Architectural Digest speak to their knack for blending timeless aesthetics with contemporary relevance. It's a shop that treats furniture as narrative—every piece tells something.

Founded by environment design graduates—Marie-Hélène Chagnon, Charles-Antoine Beaulieu, Gauvain Beaudry-Sarrazin, Maxime-Olivier Dagenais—Séjour started as an online platform for original furniture before landing in a Chabanel atelier. Restoration, design, and artistic direction now share one roof.

The workshop emphasizes collaboration and storytelling: pieces are restored or newly designed with craft and curiosity at the centre. Whether through curated inventory or bespoke commissions, Séjour enriches spaces with objects that feel timeless yet personal. It's furniture as conversation, built by people who studied how spaces actually work.

Eugenia Triandos founded this showroom as an extension of her design practice, Hibou Design & Co. The pieces here aren't selected for trend appeal—they're chosen because they hold up in real projects. Furniture, lighting, textiles, and small accents reflect a working vocabulary built on proportion, longevity, and everyday use.

A café in the mix makes it part shopping, part pause, part design research. It's the kind of place where decisions feel grounded rather than aspirational, where browsing doubles as education. For anyone furnishing with intention, Hibou offers a practiced eye to borrow.

Good design shouldn't feel precious or out of reach—that's the premise Nüspace has operated on for years. The showroom leans into mid-century modern references, with carefully produced reproductions of 20th-century classics alongside contemporary pieces from Gus* Modern and Umage.

Chairs, sofas, lighting, and smaller objects are chosen for comfort and durability as much as looks, keeping prices reasonable without cutting corners. It's furniture meant to be lived with—used, rearranged, debated, occasionally argued over—rather than admired from a distance.

Three friends who decided early on that their products only made sense if they built them themselves. Solid wood is the starting point—not as an aesthetic flex, but as a practical choice that allows pieces to be repaired, refinished, and lived with for decades.

Tables, desks, and storage are designed for daily use without fuss, balancing restraint with quiet precision. Everything is produced locally, materials carefully sourced, processes shaped by longevity over speed. Sustainability here isn't a marketing angle—it's embedded in how the furniture is conceived, built, and meant to age.

Kastella builds furniture the way wardrobes are built: a few strong essentials that age well. Tables, chairs, beds, and lighting are pared back to fundamentals, designed to adapt as homes and lives change. Everything is made by hand in Montreal, using solid walnut, white oak, and maple selected board by board.

Limited production runs, traditional joinery, low-impact finishes—the focus is longevity rather than novelty. The result is furniture that doesn't announce itself loudly but earns its place through use, wear, and time. Slow, deliberate, built to stay.

Siblings Thien and My Ta Trung founded this studio in 2016 around a pragmatic idea: furniture should adapt rather than be replaced. Modular, made-to-order pieces shift with changing spaces—sofas with removable, replaceable covers, layouts that reconfigure instead of heading to the curb.

Everything is conceived locally and produced without intermediaries, keeping prices accessible without stripping quality. The aesthetic leans clean and restrained, borrowing from high-end European furniture while staying grounded in everyday use. It's contemporary design built for real life, not showroom perfection.

Family-run since 1972, Casavogue built its reputation on Italian furniture before expanding to Canadian and American makers. The showroom—vast but carefully organized—moves between classic silhouettes, contemporary lines, and more expressive high-glam pieces. What ties it together is an emphasis on craftsmanship, customization, and long-term use.

Whether tailoring a dining table or fitting out a compact apartment with precision, Casavogue treats furniture as investment rather than impulse. It reads less as a trend barometer than a steady reference point for people who plan to live with their choices for a while.

Mathieu Domingue Trempe and Eliott Légaré work almost exclusively in steel, treating furniture as an exercise in restraint, tension, and use. Tables, shelving, benches, and brackets carry a distinctly brutalist sensibility—raw finishes, forms that reveal how things are made rather than hiding the process.

Everything is designed and manufactured in Montreal, meant to age visibly over time. The same logic extends into spatial projects, where custom furniture shapes cafés, boutiques, and hybrid venues. Nothing here is ornamental for its own sake; character comes from material honesty, structure, and how pieces perform in real spaces.

Founded in 1980 in a former mechanic's garage on Duluth, Zone has grown alongside the city it serves. The brand built its reputation by treating everyday objects with intention—furniture, kitchenware, and small home essentials that balance usefulness with personality.

The mix is broad but coherent: contemporary lines brush up against mid-century references and softer, cottage-adjacent pieces, all priced for real apartments rather than showrooms. Zone's longevity comes from paying attention—adjusting its selection as tastes shift without losing sight of what people actually need at home.