How Tinder transforms people’s loves and lives
Bridget Jones talks to seven Kiwis, who offer up their experiences of the mobile dating app – good and bad.
Kim Dotcom was arrested, the country ran out of Marmite and New Zealand started swiping for love as the sound of Psy’s Gangnam Style filled the air.
Tinder, the mobile dating app that lets users match with other singles at the flick of a finger, launched in 2012 and, in the seven years since, much has been made of it – from the good to the very bad.
It’s used by an estimated 50 million people worldwide, who can see a potential match’s photos, age, and any common Facebook friends. Both people have to swipe right to connect, which means embarrassment and unwanted attention is limited.
But what does that mean in real-life? We spoke to seven Kiwis about their Tinder experiences to find out.
Seren, 25, from Auckland, is single and blogs about her dating life on Tinder Stories. She has been using Tinder for two years.
As much as you want to go out and meet people the ‘‘oldfashioned’’ way, there’s an appeal to not having to get dressed up and put on a front.
I’d say I’ve been on dates with more than 20, maybe more than 30, different people – but you talk to so many more.
There can be a tendency to skip past wanting a relationship and moving to something much more intimate. It’s easy to see someone’s intentions – messaging is a quick filtration system. It’s common sense and sometimes there are some awkward moments of ‘‘I need to leave now’’ to keep yourself safe.
I wrote the first blog, ‘‘I ran away from him as he lay there naked’’, because I thought, that’s a funny story and most people wouldn’t believe it. It’s a cathartic way to deal with the trauma of dating. I’ve had people say they won’t date me because of the blog, and I’ve had guys think they can do a better job than people I’ve met before.
I’d love to write The Happy Ending Tinder Story. And, I think, it’s possible. When people find out I blog about horror stories, I always hear the beautiful stories – that makes me happy.
A lot of my readers are in relationships and find it fascinating. Even my parents read it – they just don’t understand all of it.
Now, people around the world share my stories of a girl who dated a lot of bad people –and who was a bad date herself sometimes.
Keri, 36, from Wellington, met her partner James on Tinder three years ago.
Tinder is a cesspit. My No 1 criteria for meeting someone was: ‘‘do they look like a normal person?’’ You’d be surprised how many people automatically don’t meet that criteria.
I had deleted Tinder at least five times before that. You’d have a disaster, so you’d be done with it, and then it’s like, ‘‘how else do I meet people?’’ So you go back to it.
I undeleted Tinder again and, the next day, matched with James. Straight away, he said, ‘‘let’s go for a drink’’. He’s incredibly shy, so it’s interesting he was the initiator.
On Tinder, I learnt how to talk to people more easily – you go on these dates and put yourself out there; it’s more of an interview than other kinds of dating. Because you’ve matched, there’s something there that interests the other person – that’s the application part – and then you have to go in for the interview and see if it’s going to work out.
You’re always just looking for the one person out of the thousands who just might be OK.
And now, we’ve been living together for two years. Marriage, babies, buying a house – we’ve talked about all of it.
Varsha, from Auckland, married Darren this year after meeting on Tinder six years ago.
I didn’t think it was going to be possible to find someone on Tinder, but then again, there’s no reason why it wouldn’t have been possible. It’s a numbers game. There’s someone for everyone and I might not want that weirdo, but I want this weirdo.
I was 36, and quite happily single. I’d met two people before Darren, and I thought, ‘‘uh-uh, this is not for me at all’’. Someone can write messages, but the chemistry thing is harder to figure out.
But when we matched, it turned out I’d gone out with one of his friends about 20 years ago, and we had these massive mutual circles of friends.
We were both away for work, so it was a month before we met in person. It wasn’t sparky, it wasn’t Disney, but he was lovely.
We were quite a slow-burn, but then, he moved in with me about nine months later. And that’s fast.
I didn’t tell people how we met in the beginning. I thought it was really weird, but he didn’t. It seemed to be OK if you meet that way abroad, where people were using it a bit more. But when you said it here, people made a bit of a funny face. I’d say we met through friends, but eventually other friends started meeting their partners on Tinder.
We got engaged three years ago and married this year. Darren’s my best friend. You think, ‘‘how was it possible?’’ We’d been at the same parties, knew the same people and this is how we ended up meeting?
John, 29, lives in Auckland and started using Tinder in 2014. He’s in a long-distance relationship.
I did a fair amount of swiping when I started using Tinder and didn’t match with that many people. I was quite nervous.
I chose a few different photos, which better showcased my
interests and personality, and started matching with more people. Linking Spotify and Instagram accounts changed things a little. It allows people to express themselves a little more, I suppose.
One of my relationships started through Tinder and lasted several years, culminating in us living together. It didn’t work out.
But in April, I met someone somewhat more organically – at a party. We started talking, exchanged numbers and I asked her out. After several dates, I deleted Tinder.
She recently moved to Singapore for work. It’s a very new dynamic, so we’re still working out how it works, what that means, what ‘‘dating’’ will look like now.
I still think, in New Zealand, it’s less traditionally acceptable to see someone cute at a supermarket – or any nonalcohol related public place – engage with them and date them, than it is to match with somebody on a dating app and start a probably less organic conversation.
Olive, 35, from Auckland, is single. She started using Tinder in 2012 in London.
Those first few months were great. Everyone felt like they were on Tinder for the same reasons – to date. It was a hopeful time. But I think Tinder has made dating really hard for women.
What bothers me is the way it’s commoditised women, made them something quite disposable. What does it mean for our society when we make it all about appearance?
One thing I feel is changing on social media is around body image and I wonder if that will spill into other areas of digital life, like dating apps. This unrealistic view of men and women – but predominantly women – and how they should look, people are starting to challenge the status quo on that, which is really empowering.
I’ve probably dated more in the last year than I have in ages, because I’ve made a real effort to feel confident about how I look and my body.
And, if I ever go for a bit of a blast on Tinder, I always make sure I use a photo that has been taken in the past two months. They are going to meet me in real-life, so I think it’s important people know this is what I look like right now.
A lot of these apps ask, ‘‘what do you want to get out of this’’, and I don’t know.
Are you going to tell me I have to write down I want to meet my future husband? I’m not expecting every person I match with is going to be that. Sometimes there is something that’s just fun.
And I probably contribute to the culture of Tinder as well – it’s quite often something I’ll pick up when I’m bored, and not because I’m thinking, I must set aside 10 minutes a day so I can find my husband.
Sam, 33, started using Tinder in 2013. He met his girlfriend Steph almost four years ago.
You want to swipe through all the people in your area – and it’s a bit sad. And there was that excitement when you went somewhere new, on holiday – new faces. That endorphin rush is never matched by anything substantial.
In New Zealand, I got the sense no-one wanted to commit to using it. It was a novelty. But in 2014, I travelled through
Mexico and used it to find out information and ask questions about the local area. Often you’d learn things that the hostel hive mind hadn’t heard of.
When I came back, I met my girlfriend using it – that was almost four years ago.
It’s a classic Auckland story – I’m from the North Shore, she’s from Howick. We never would have met, had it not been for Tinder.
I certainly had some first dates where there was no chemistry. In hindsight, we were forcing it. The wise old man I am now, when friends go on dates I wish someone would just put a clock on it, so after an hour you can both walk away, no strings attached, if you’re not feeling it.
But when I met Steph, it was amazing. It immediately felt different from other dates I went on. It was an alien feeling. And now, I’ve somehow convinced her to move halfway across the world to London with me.
Frank (who didn’t want to use his real name) is 30, lives in Auckland and is single. He’s used Tinder for five years.
I’ve had the pleasure of many Tinder dates. Some have been absolute nightmares and others, fantastic. But unfortunately none of them have led to successful relationships.
If I’m really procrastinating through the week, I could get several good matches. But I can’t talk to more than one person at a time – I don’t have the mental capacity to have the same trivial conversations while getting to know two people in the same day. What can I say? I’m an honest lad.
I have my own business and 80 per cent of my time goes into that. The rest is exercising and socialising with friends who are all engaged, having kids and buying houses. I am the only single on in my group, and I love it.
If anyone has a bad view of Tinder, I would say they’re the ones who jump from relationship to relationship and have never properly been single.