Turning on
the red light

>> Sex workers’ rights group Stella
celebrates its 13th birthday and a
vanishing historical district

PAYING HOMAGE TO A LONG GONE WORK PLACE: Jenn Clamen

by PATRICK LEJTENYI

Standing at the corner of St-Laurent and Ste-Catherine, there’s a wistfulness in the air. The Sex Machine building is gone, replaced by a vacant lot. Most of the local hookers have left for other parts of the city. The block’s strip bars are closing, its sleazy dives are endangered and, at the corner of René-Lévesque, a shiny student dorm looms over the intersection.

As little as 10 years ago, this small stretch of the Main was the heart of a once thriving red light district. But the inevitable process of economic recovery doomed it to a safe and happy place, destined for tourists, outdoor concerts and high-rise office towers. With the city hell bent for leather on extinguishing Montreal’s red light, the Quartier des spectacles’ HQ will rise like an engorged, tumescent phallus over the area. Thus, decided Stella, it’s time for a party.

On Friday, April 18, the sex workers’ rights group is celebrating its 13th birthday with a bash at Cleopatra’s, one of the last surviving peeler joints on the strip. “We want to pay homage to the red light district of Montreal, because it’s essentially dead,” says Stella coordinator Jenn Clamen. “It’s sad, because it’s lost its historical importance, and sex workers have become undesirables. Instead of acknowledging sex work as an important part of Montreal, they’ve placed this judgment on it, making it a bad thing.”

For a city that long basked in its carnal reputation, the end of the red light district is a loss—but that loss also translates into something more important, says Clamen, namely, the safety of the working girls. Over the years, Stella repeatedly raised alarm bells about the city’s crackdown on prostitutes downtown. After an arrest, police placed mandatory restrictions on where they could go, effectively banning them from their traditional trysting places. Many migrated to other parts of the city, especially the more residential St-Michel, away from the relative safety of the throbbing core. And away from one of the few organizations concerned for their well-being.

Stella offers sex workers a number of services, not least of which is free condom distribution. There are resources like medical testing and Stella’s Bulletin (formerly known as the “Bad John List”) that prints warnings to their workers about dangerous clients. But as the sex workers drifted away from the red light district, Stella moved as well, off St-Laurent and onto Parthenais. “It’s important that we remain visible,” says Clamen. “There’s not much we can do [about the red light’s demise] except remain in contact [with sex workers] and know where they go, follow their patterns of movement.”

Not surprisingly, Clamen isn’t a fan of the Harper government, but, somewhat surprisingly, she also says that the politics of sex—if not popular attitudes—is no more advanced in Quebec than in the rest of Canada. Policy-makers are getting advice from “more traditional feminists,” says Clamen, “who see sex workers as victims. So the majority of politicians see it that way.”

Ideally, she’d like to see sex work decriminalized—but not legalized. Legalization means governments have stricter controls on sex workers, and thus subject to the whims and fancies of prevailing popular attitudes. Decrim means, essentially, being left alone. And a designated, well-lit red light district would help.

In the meantime though, Stella is inviting the friendly population at large to toast what’s left of Montreal’s. The party goes down on Friday, April 18, at Café Cleopatra (1230 St-Laurent) at 6 p.m. Burlesque, films, performances and drinking will be in strong supply.

For more info on Stella, visit www.chezstella.org.