Tinder, kills 99.9% of online dating shame

If you haven’t already heard, straight Grindr has arrived. (Or at least a more successful version of Blendr. If you haven’t heard of it before, that explains why!) Its name is Tinder, and for the past few weeks has been serving as a vicarious source of entertainment in my life.

According to Tinder brand manager Joshua Metz, the app is downloaded more than 1000 times a day in Australia.

In a society where how you both met is still held to scrutiny, Tinder has managed to secure itself that sweet little territory between the social acceptance of meeting someone face-to-face, and the still lingering social embarrassment of online dating. That it all takes place on an app somehow makes it all okay.

Perhaps it’s the minimal effort (swipe left for no, swipe right for yes) that makes people so blasé about using it. Compared to the tediousness of subscribing to usually paid online dating sites and crafting the perfect profile, Tinder almost seems like an accidental slip of the finger to download.

"I don’t take it seriously, it’s just funny."

"I use it as a joke. I think it’s hilarious."

However, that people still find it necessary to defend their intentions exposes how some discomfort still remains when it comes to meeting people online. 

So despite anecdotal evidence that most people are only in it for a laugh, there are some brave customers actually using the product for its intended purpose. Like my friend, Laura*.

She’s 24, and has no qualms about telling her close friends where she met the guy she’s currently dating. He, on the other hand found it necessary to clarify on their first date that he doesn’t usually do things like ‘this’ i.e. meet up with randoms from Tinder for coffee. Despite them by now having gone on a few dates and talking everyday, none of his friends or family know how they really met.

Trying to see things from his end, I suggested that maybe his shame lay in the peculiarity of dating someone from an app stereotypically associated with booty calls. That some people assume a certain level of promiscuity of Tinder users might cause them to question the nature of any relationships that come out of it.

For my other friends, it’s a non-confronting way of easing back onto the dating scene. Tinder allows you to be as brutal as you want while you play God on who gets the honour of a possibility to message you (should they like you too). Plus, since those you rejected will never know you passed on them, and inversely the identities of those who rejected you – egos need only worry about what to do with all those mutual attractions.

The fact that I’ve chosen to enjoy Tinder vicariously rather than downloading the damn thing myself brings me to the issue of Tinder etiquette.

Is it wrong to actively use the app, albeit as a ‘joke,’ if you’re already in a relationship?

If you’re lucky enough to have reaped the product benefits of Tinder and managed to start dating someone (actual sex not withstanding), should you stop using the app?

For a hilarious yet useful list of Tinder Do’s and Don’ts, check out 10 tips on how to get a date using Tinder.

Will you join the growing number of Australians giving online dating stereotypes and expectations the Tinder Finger? Perhaps you already have? Any stories, share them below!

Love, Noeline

xox