“One of our regulars got the logo tattooed on her butt”: The new owners of Squirly’s on bringing a beloved Queen West dive bar back from the dead

Last November, the owners of Squirly’s announced that they would be pulling their last pint, signalling the end of an era for the Queen West institution—or so it seemed. Enter Britt Kirby and her partner, Patrick Grant, both service-industry vets and now the proud owners of Squirly’s 2.0. “We want to preserve the history, and then we have some fresh ideas,” says Kirby. (Don’t worry, the name—and that bizarre diaper-wearing squirrel logo—aren’t going anywhere).

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Last I checked, Squirly’s announced back in November that it would be closing down after 36 years. When did you decide to step in?

Britt: I worked at Squirly’s as a bartender for 13 years, and even though I left in 2023, I was still very much in touch with everyone. I was surprised by how emotional I felt when I heard the news that owners Leo and Rachel were planning on closing the place down. Leo has always been someone who follows his gut, and I guess they just decided it was time. When I told Pat, I said, “What do you think—should we buy it?" I was kidding, but then we actually started considering it. Pat had always dreamed of owning a bar.

Pat: I’ve been working in the service industry for 15 years, and it just sort of felt like a good time. I have a lot of friends who got into this industry as a way to support their art—and now they’re in their mid-40s and having to figure out what’s next. This felt like a way to avoid that step. We approached Leo and Rachel even before the bar’s farewell party in November. We asked them what their plan was, and they didn’t really have one. They had fielded a few offers and met with some condo developers who were interested in buying the building, but nothing was set in stone. We told them that we wanted to give it a shot and that we had some ideas to breathe new life into this place that has such a following and so much history.

Britt: We’re a young couple looking to make a go of this business, which is just what they were 30 years ago. Leo opened Squirly’s in 1988. Rachel came to work there in the 1990s, and they fell in love, so I think that felt like a nice connection. We worked out an arrangement so they’ll continue to own the building, with us as their tenants. And we told them we wanted to keep the name.

Where does the name Squirly’s come from anyway?

Pat: According to Leo, he named the bar after a pet baby squirrel he had when he was a kid. We knew the name was part of the history, so we could either keep it or hear about it every day for the next decade. Before this, I worked at the Lucky Shrike on Dundas West. That bar took over the Press Club space 10 years ago, and still you had people asking about the Press Club every day, several times a shift.

Britt: I was pushing to keep the name. People have such an attachment to it. People even have tattoos of that logo—the squirrel with the diaper and the martini glass. I kind of hate it, but it seems to have a life of its own.

Pat: A guy came in a couple of weeks ago with a fresh Squirly’s tattoo. He bought two T-shirts with the same logo, ordered a pint and thanked us for reopening. One person got the logo tattooed on her wrist. Another one of our regulars has it on her butt. I believe it was a reaction to news that the place was going to close down. She’s been in a bunch of times since we reopened.

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Wow. Any theories on what it is about Squirly’s that inspires so much loyalty?

Britt: I think that, after so many years, people just have a lot of memories. I first moved to Toronto when I was 17. I had my first date at Squirly’s. I remember being so worried that they would card me, but they didn’t. Queen West was a hub for music and culture back then: the whole punk scene, the goths, all the club kids and queer people. A lot has changed, but Squirly’s has stayed the same: kitschy ’90s vibes, almost like a time capsule. In this area, it really is one of the only places that’s still around—as well as the Paddock and Doc’s Leathers.

Pat: It’s a comfortable place where you can come in for a burger and a beer before a show or a game. It’s the kind of place that suits a lot of different kinds of customers.

Britt: It’s crazy how many couples come in telling us they had their first date here. They used to stay and drink pitchers until last call, and now they’re coming in with their babies and toddlers.

I’m sure all of the regulars have offered up advice to the new owners.

Britt: Oh, yeah, people have a lot of opinions. Definitely the new high-tops have been controversial. Some of the older clientele were very attached to the big diner tables—which we still have in the back. In the front, we wanted to facilitate more of a social, party atmosphere, where people can walk around and chat. There were really bad wine options, so we improved on those, and we have a new cocktail menu. Part of me wants to add mussels and tartare to the food menu, but I just don’t think it would be appropriate. If anything, we want to make the menu funkier. That was always the best part about Squirly’s: how weird it was.

Pat: It’s only going to get weirder. More eclectic art on the walls, more bawdy jokes on our signs and menu. The goal is to keep the same down-to-earth vibe that makes Squirly’s so fun. That atmosphere is also what makes it a safe harbour for the goth and queer communities, because those are the kinds of communities we want to be a part of.

Britt: One change we’ve gotten a lot of great feedback on is the leopard-print ceiling, which is new but also a nod to the past. For years, the Squirly’s ceiling had a cheetah pattern, which is slightly different. They painted over it during Covid lockdowns—I have no idea why. But people were not happy about it, so I knew we had to bring it back. This version is entirely hand-painted. It took me about 60 hours to finish.

Do you worry about the financial challenges of running a bar, particularly in this economy?

Britt: Our strategy is to live here around the clock to save on labour—and because it’s our baby. Seriously, we do our laundry here. We’ve also given our staff a little stake in the company so that we’re all invested in the outcome.

Pat: And we’re introducing new events on nights that are typically less busy, including a trivia night once a month and karaoke. We’re hoping to give people a reason to come out. Especially now that a lot of regulars can’t afford to live in the neighbourhood, we want to make it worth the trip. And we have brought back hockey, which Britt assures me Squirly’s used to play before you had to pay for a subscription. It’s simply not good business to be a bar in Toronto and ignore the Leafs or the Raptors during the playoffs.

Are you hoping that people have learned a lesson? Like, if you don’t support the old institutions, they’re going to disappear.

Britt: Toronto can definitely be a faddy place—look at smash burgers. You think these old places will stick around just because they’ve always been there. Squirly’s was really suffering during the pandemic and afterward, and then as soon as they announced the closing, there were lineups around the block for two weeks. We know it holds a special place, and we are proud to be a part of that. Now people just need to keep coming in. Like, yeah, you love this place—but we can’t run a business on sentimental vibes.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.