t's just before midnight, and the locals are filing into Strange Love, the latest spot in the College Street hood. The party is just beginning to lift off, and bartenders are preparing to fuel the influx. There are plenty of lounges in this area, with a more sophisticated atmosphere for the mature clubgoer - you know, the sophisticated clubgoer. However, there are some things that I think need a little massaging. And one of them just happens to be the nightlife.

Which brings us to Strange Love. Taking over the space that was once Jennifer Cardella's Chinadoll (and Stephen Salari's Butt'r before that), this racy den has been dusted off with a mild redecoration. Did we really need another College Street bar? Maybe not, but we applaud the owners for finally plugging the vacated – but still attractive - spot.

While the general theme is decidedly different than the former occupant's, the cool interior remains. Pink accents that were Chinadoll's signature are now black. Actually, almost everything is shiny and dark, with little dots of lowercase strange love in the corners.

On any given night, it's basically an uptown-meets-downtown crowd jiggling to the DJ's rock-funk-pop blend and fully appreciating the tequila shots poured down their throats. On a this particularly sad weeknight, we're sharing the house with UofT kids not yet ready for Lobby get their training wheels with casual bottle service and young couples canoodle on the low-slung seating at the back, sharing every kind of strange love, with zero judgment or club attitude. The front lounge area caters to a 30 plus crowd, playing mellower tunes, while the back half is mostly a friends-of-the-owner type of crowd. The back area, however, houses a crowded, talky lounge setting that is worth feeling out.

Strange Love will have a tough climb, but there's potential to fine-tune this spot into a trendy spot that's warm and welcoming in spirit, worlds away from those chilly, hipper-than-thou places, where the security in charge of the velvet rope barely acknowledges anyone without a tabloid-recognizable face.