It’s
hard to find a decent peeler on Toronto's Yonge Street these days. There
are only three strip clubs, one porn cinema and a handful of sex
accessory shops now.
But in the 1970s, Yonge was the dirtiest street in Canada. Body-rub
parlours, porno vendors, cinemas and clubs lined the strip south of
Bloor. There was music on the street. Tourists visited Yonge for the
atmosphere and not the Eaton Centre.
Valerie Scott worked in the body-rub parlours on Yonge during the ’70s:
There wasn’t a lot of violence, hardly any. I never even came across
any at all, all the times I worked in the massage parlours. I think
because we worked together, there were always two or three or four of us
working in a place. And it was just nice to hang out with the other
women in between clients.
The first body-rub parlour opened in the spring of 1971. They grew in
tandem with the Yonge Street Mall, an annual festival held between 1971
and 1973.
Parts of Yonge from Gerrard to Queen were closed to traffic and vendors
moved into the street. The sex industry thrived on the increase in
street business the mall provided. The body rub parlours also filled an
economic niche on the street and kept Yonge going, taking advantage of
real estate that other businesses didn’t want.
It filled a vacumn. The stores were there, it was the centre of the
city. Landlords were pretty desperate because they couldn’t get serious
retailers to go there, says Ron Soskolne, Toronto’s chief planner in
the ‘70s.
The increase in people attracted by the mall, however, meant an increase
in crime. Some businesses complained they were losing money just as the
parlours were flourishing. The mall became a financial liability for the
city and was shut down in the summer of 1973. The parlours, however,
remained. In just four years, there were more than 100 of them.
The party ended in 1977. On July 28, four men lured 12-year-old Emanuel
Jaques, who worked on Yonge shining shoes, into an apartment above
Charlie’s Angels, a body-rub parlour across from the just-opened Eaton
Centre. Jaques was restrained and sexually assaulted over 12 hours, then
strangled and drowned. The murder shocked the public and provided the
city and local businesses with a moral martyr to rally behind. Many of
the sex businesses threw in the towel rather than endure the legal
shitstorm. Some were closed down by the bawdy-house law, which gives
authorities the legal right to close down any place in which
prostitution occurs. Whether or not prostitution was indeed happening
was beside the point. None of the businesses could afford to fight both
the government and the public. At the time of Jaques’ murder, there were
40 parlours on Yonge. By November there were four and in December the
last one closed its doors.
The body-run era was over.
By the early 80s, Scott found herself dancing at the Zanzibar. The
Zanzibar was a happening place. That place was packed on the weekends.
Even during the week it was busy in the evenings and they had good
quality shows. This is before table and lap dancing. It was far more
burlesque. You didn’t have anything on the stage like showers or poles.
The stage was nice, it was a good hardwood stage. Good for dancing.
The strip clubs continued to do well, but Yonge Street decayed in the
80s.
After nearly 15 years of planning, Toronto Life Square finally opened
last year. Yonge has become an epileptic’s nightmare. Neon signs
advertising the latest cell phone plans flash electric kool-aid over
newly erected condos. It’s a 21st century circus, with a size that fits
for anyone with cash to spend.
The sex industry is still there, but it’s only a shadow of its former
self. The Zanzibar, the Brass Rail and Remington’s are the only strip
clubs left. A porn cinema commands a second-floor perch on the east side
of Yonge. Only a few sex shops remain.