Diplo’s “Double Date” Claim: Queer Jokes, Celebrity Crushes, and the Art of Viral Chaos

If there’s one thing the LGBTQ+ community knows how to do, it’s read between the lines — whether it’s coded lyrics in a pop anthem, sly glances in a period drama, or a deadpan quip on a podcast. So when Diplo, the ever-provocative DJ and producer, dropped the line “I dated Trudeau too” on the “Smart Girl Dumb Questions” podcast, queer Twitter didn’t just take notice — it exploded. The story, which began as a seemingly offhand comment during a chat about “how horny” Quebec is (yes, really), quickly spiraled into a glorious meme-fest, with fans sleuthing for proof and headlines blaring the wildest of suggestions: had Diplo really made history as pop’s ultimate “Eskimo sibling”?

Let’s get this out of the way: Diplo’s claim that he dated both pop superstar Katy Perry and Canada’s freshly single former Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was — drumroll, please — a joke. The podcast’s own YouTube channel clarified as much after fans demanded receipts. Still, the internet’s reaction was telling: for a few breathless hours, the idea of Diplo — who’s built a career on genre-bending music and cheeky, sexually fluid persona — playing the bridge between pop and politics seemed just plausible enough. Or at least, deliciously fun to imagine.

The real-life connections? Diplo and Katy Perry did indeed share a brief romance in 2014, complete with Coachella sightings and a few months of playful banter, before their amicable split. As for Trudeau, he’s only recently gone public with Perry after his separation from his wife last year, with paparazzi snapping the new couple in Paris and on yachts in the Mediterranean. But as for Diplo and Trudeau? Not so much — except, perhaps, in the collective fantasy of everyone who’s ever swooned over a world leader’s charm.

So why did this moment strike such a chord, especially in LGBTQ+ circles? For one, Diplo’s brand of humor — irreverent, ambiguous, and delightfully self-aware — resonates with a queer audience long schooled in the art of “reading” and double entendre. When Diplo deadpans, “That was a weird one. I’m not usually into politicians, but this one drew my eye,” he’s not just trolling for laughs; he’s riffing on a tradition of queer playfulness that’s as old as Oscar Wilde.

There’s also a deeper undercurrent about bisexual visibility and the power of not taking heteronormativity too seriously. For a community that’s often forced to justify or explain itself, watching a straight-presenting celebrity flirt with queer rumors (and do so with a wink) can feel both validating and subversive. Diplo has previously spoken about not putting limits on his sexuality, telling Interview Magazine in 2023, “I don’t define myself. I just do what feels good.” Moments like this, even if jokey, chip away at the old binaries, making space for more expansive understandings of attraction and identity.

Of course, queer folks have always known that celebrity gossip is never just about the surface story. It’s about projection, possibility, and the thrill of seeing boundaries blurred. In a media landscape still dominated by straight love stories, the mere suggestion of a love triangle involving Diplo, Perry, and Trudeau offers a momentary window into a world where everyone’s a little more fluid, a little less boxed in, and a lot more fun.

And isn’t that the point? When Diplo jokes about “dating” Trudeau (“I dated Trudeau too”), he’s not just making a meme — he’s playing with the very idea of what it means to be desirable, to be public, to be open. For LGBTQ+ audiences, who have spent decades decoding what’s said and unsaid, the joke lands not just as comedy but as subtle commentary.

Still, it’s worth noting where the line is. Diplo’s joke, like all good queer humor, walks the tightrope between possibility and absurdity. It’s funny because it’s almost believable — thanks, in part, to a cultural moment where celebrities are more candid (and more queer-adjacent) than ever. Yet it’s also a reminder that, for all the progress, the idea of a male pop producer openly dating a world leader remains firmly in the realm of fantasy.

That fantasy, though, is powerful. It’s a testament to the ways in which queer humor can unsettle, provoke, and delight — not by confirming what’s “real,” but by inviting us to imagine what could be. For a community that’s always had to carve out its own narratives, that’s no small thing.

In the end, Diplo’s viral moment is less about who he’s actually dated and more about the joy of not knowing — of embracing ambiguity, of finding kinship in the fleeting and the fabulous. As the internet moves on to its next obsession, LGBTQ+ audiences can savor this one as a reminder of what queer culture does best: take the world’s chaos, remix it with wit and affection, and turn it into something that feels, if only for a moment, like home.