This 8 p.m. Dance Party is the Hottest Ticket in Town

For all the 30-plus dance lovers who’ve traded in hangovers for early mornings, Home by Midnight offers a fresh twist on nightlife—one in which you can have your fun and your REM sleep, too.

Kesha’s 2010 anthem “Tik Tok” might have perfectly captured our “the party don’t stop” 20s, when nights were endless and energy was abundant. But as we crossed into our 30s and beyond, our enthusiasm for chasing the proverbial night—much like our collagen production—began to wane. Hangovers hit harder, skincare routines grew longer and standing through an entire concert started to feel like an Olympic event. For many, now juggling kids, mortgages or the constant threat of “sleeping wrong,” a night out was becoming a distant memory. Then along came Home by Midnight (HBM) to prove that the party doesn’t have to stop—it just needs to start earlier.

Founded by five friends in their mid to late 30s who loved to light up the dance floor together in their youth, Home by Midnight revives those nostalgic dance party vibes, minus the regret-filled drunk texts to your ex. “We were all women who partied together back in the day,” says Mikael Bingham, who co-founded HBM alongside sister Rachael Sproston and friends Melinda Appenheimer, Adria Carillo and Rachel Morris.

“Back then, going out to the Granville strip seemed much more accessible, and the phrase ‘Doors at 10’ wasn’t so intimidating,” says Bingham. But as “elder millennials” (thanks, TikTok) with kids and real jobs, opportunities to dance started to seem few and far between.

“For us, the big piece was the dancing. It felt like the only time we got to dance was at, you know, your cool cousin’s wedding—somewhere with an accessible dance floor,” she says. “We wanted to combine that with the dance clubs of our youth, creating something accessible, friendly and, most importantly, early.” 

A humble dream to “be the dance party you wish to see in the world” led to securing their first venue in 2018—Gastown’s Bean Around the World. The concept was simple: create a dance party that doesn’t ruin the next day. While that first event was well-received, it wasn’t until it moved to the Anza Club post-COVID lockdowns that it started building an enthusiastic audience of millennials and Gen Xers who love to fist-pump into the not-so-wee hours. HBM’s monthly dance parties start at 8 p.m. and regularly sell out, but not just because of the Robyn jams. “I think it had a lot to do with being divided from community during COVID and that desire for wellness, joy and connection,” says Bingham. This new approach to nightlife not only syncs with the body’s circadian rhythms, it also aligns with current trends that favour sobriety over binge drinking (where are my fellow Jägerbomb survivors?)—all while promoting accessibility, safety and not being a jerk.

A key part of HBM’s charm is its inclusivity. While it primarily caters to the over-35 crowd, anyone with a love for dancing is welcome. The dress code? Less “dress to impress” and more “dress to sweat.” DJ Danice Carlson-Malena, a.k.a. DJ WhySoSerious, spins the perfect mix of nostalgic hits and crowd-pleasers—Spice Girls’ “Wannabe”, ’90s hip-hop deep cut “Swing My Way” (K.P. and Envyi) and the latest Beyoncé banger are in high rotation—to keep your Fitbit step count high and your heart full. (Carlson-Malena once closed the night with an epic singalong to Celine Dion’s “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now.”)

HBM has big dreams, including expanding the team, bringing the party to the suburbs and hosting themed events (“your cool cousin’s wedding” is a theme, right?). But no matter how it grows, the core mission remains the same: providing a space where dance lovers can reconnect with their youth without sacrificing their grown-up responsibilities. After all, who says you can’t have fun and still get a good night’s sleep? (Unless, that is, you accidentally sleep wrong.)

The Anza Club is bumping thanks to Home by Midnight founders (clockwise from top left) Melinda Appenheimer, Rachel Morris, Mikael Bingham, Rachael Sproston and Adria Carillo.
Photo by Chelsea Lee Irwin, @octoberswolf