All the Phrases to Permanently Retire From Your Dating App Profile
It’s the end of the decade and you haven’t found the love of your life. Unfortunately, you have no one to blame but yourself. Kidding! Dating, as it turns out, did not get any easier in the 2010s, despite the advent of Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, Grindr, Coffee Meets Bagel, The League, Raya, and about 48 other apps that you signed up for and promptly deleted.
I cannot promise the prospect of swiping will improve in the years ahead: Dating apps in the 2020s will almost certainly unleash augmented-reality meetups at fake vacation destinations as well as other Black Mirror-esque horrors. But no amount of technocratic interference into wining and dining can reduce the power of the pen—what you write about yourself on the apps will always matter (almost as much as your actual pictures, anyway). For whatever reason, though, far too many of you haven’t updated your bios since, like, 2015, when you first created a Tinder profile on the toilet.
The goal here isn’t to chide you. We’re all busy people with better things to do than ruminate about how we come across on dating apps (except me, clearly). But c’mon, you’re not still looking for a plus-one to that Ellie Goulding show, and your Harambe joke makes everyone swiping on your profile think you’re a bot.
It’s not just about upgrading your pop culture references to something more recently meme-ified. There are a selection of bios and prompt responses repeated so frequently that they’ve been rendered meaningless; they essentially amount to telling others that you enjoy eating, sleeping, breathing, and occasional human interaction, which, same. But their invocation doesn’t point to anything of substance, and potential partners don’t glean anything useful about you or your interests. For example, an absurd number of people claim they can be found at the party "with the dog." It's just not true! I am imagining a house party completely devoid of conversation, with dozens of people gathered around one dog. Chaos.
Below are five such categories of bios and prompt responses. If you see your own refrain listed, don’t panic. I’m offering up an empirically correct list of alternative lines and conversation starters to help kick off the online meet-cute of your dreams.
Wanderlust Isn’t Original.
Traveling: Most of us have done it. The when and the where vary, sure, depending on your job, your background, and how rich your parents are. If you’re in your 20s and have visited a bazillion countries, I am not impressed; I’ve mostly just taken note that your family is loaded. A compatible travel companion is a normal relationship goal—keep the focus there instead.
Out with the old:
“In the next x years, I want to visit x number of countries/continents.”
“Take me on an adventure!”
“I’m looking for someone who will travel the world with me.”
“My craziest travel story is [something that clearly costs more money than most people make in a year].”
Photos of you interacting with an elephant. There are too many elephant photos on dating apps.
Photos of you scuba diving.
In with the new:
“Reclining seats on an airplane: Part of the deal, or a federal crime?” (The answer is obviously the latter, for the record.)
“What’s the highest number of people you’ve squeezed into a hotel room for a single night’s stay?”
Camping horror stories, as long as they didn’t result in anyone dying.
Boat horror stories, as long as they didn’t result in anyone dying.
Any and All References to The Office Are Cancelled.
I will preface this section with a disclaimer: You should feel no shame for binging the items listed below. They are insanely popular for a reason. Their downfall, as noted previously, is they’re discussed so often and have permeated the zeitgeist to such a degree that there’s nothing to glean from saying you enjoy them. And for that reason, you will be judged for posting about them anyway. Quote tweet this with a dismissive Michael Scott GIF if you want, just know that I’m right.
Out with the old:
Mentions of The Office, 30 Rock, Community, Stranger Things, Parks & Rec, Friends, Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother, Breaking Bad, and, yes, Rick and Morty. I almost added Game of Thrones, but I guess there’s enough dorky plot-theorizing to make it a feasible conversation starter.
Mentions of Harry Potter, both in movie and book form.
In with the new:
You’re better off sticking to other subject matters entirely—rehashing your favorite episodes or movies is only good for a couple of back-and-forths, with no obvious transitions. But if you do want to throw in something you’re watching, try…
Your favorite reality TV show or your favorite food-related show, current or all-time. Favorite personalities counts too. Studies* have shown that nearly two-thirds of time in relationships is spent binging series about these two topics, so might as well get this out in the open early.
*My dating history
Maybe Don’t Brag About That.
To white people in particular, a friendlier-than-is-deserved bit of advice: It’s a terrible look to brag about your brushes with the law that resulted in getting off scot-free. (I once saw a white woman on Hinge casually admit to stealing a car from a dealership and returning it the next morning.) Repent! Reflect! And speaking more generally, humblebrags in text form—sans context about whether you’re actually kidding—are difficult to execute and usually not worth including.
Out with the old:
Presenting any variation of “I crossed the border of a country illegally and got away with it!” or “I got deported during a vacation!” as a fun fact. Don’t list them as not-fun-facts either. Don’t list them at all, is the point.
If you’re over the age of 23, any college graduation photos.
Professional headshots. This ain’t a job interview.
Stories about interacting with famous people in passing.
Don’t ask people to guess your ethnicity. (Also, don’t guess anyone’s ethnicity.)
No more writing that you’re passionate about the Oxford comma. You’re not.
It’s obviously normal to care about whether the person you’re seeing can spell words. You’ll figure that out in due time. Asserting in your bio that it’s a deal breaker to not know the difference between “you/your/you’re” or “there/their/they’re” still makes you look like an asshole, and it doesn’t prove that you’re smart, if that’s what you’re going for.
Saying you read/subscribe to the New Yorker, The New York Times, or Washington Post. Reading: Good! Keeping up with the news: Also good! Pretending the three most popular publications in the United States are a barometer for anything: Not good.
In with the new:
Unusual athletic feats or other unusual, non-sex act-related talents that also might provide a glimpse into your life. On my Hinge profile, I write that in sixth grade, I scored 45 points in a Jewish Community Center basketball game, but as a barely Jew-ish person, I was the only player not wearing a yarmulke, which cannot be easy to run with. You just learned that I like basketball, I’m not religious, and most importantly, I’m tall. Wow!
The most interesting thing you can cook or bake.
Footage of you being a bit character in the vicinity of a famous person or viral clip. If this hasn’t happened for you yet, you’ve got some homework for the 2020s.
Oh, You Like Eating and Drinking Too? That’s Wild.
The rules with food and drink are straightforward: The more specific, the better.
Out with the old.
References to getting tacos. Like elephants, there are too many tacos on dating apps. (I say this as a taco fan.)
Inviting people to debate what goes on a pizza. It is none of my business what you do with your pizza.
Inviting people to debate whether a hot dog is a sandwich. This just means you haven’t updated your profile in forever. We settled this on Twitter like three years ago. (It’s a sandwich.)
Raving about bacon.
Cancelling people who choose to go vegetarian or vegan. I am neither but still find this dismissiveness to be unnecessarily hostile, and demanding people EAT MEAT with you is a baffling vibe to give off.
Writing that you couldn’t live without your daily protein shake, or some other workout-related supplement. This is factually inaccurate.
Writing that you’ve never been to Taco Bell. As it turns out, many of you have never been to Taco Bell, rendering it a not-fun fact.
Announcing to the world that you enjoy “good beer” or “good wine.” What does this even mean!!!
In with the new:
Your go-to snack concoction. Everyone has invented some sort of unusual quick bite. If it’s a little weird, or even a little gross, that’s fine. Just not too gross. Only you know what the too-gross line is.
As previously mentioned, what’s your best homemade dish?
Your favorite meal from a fast-food joint. Yes, this is absolutely acceptable fodder.
The type of alcohol you cannot drink anymore, and the theme of the college party that ruined it for you. A moment of growth, without being too revealing.
Don’t Make People Feel Bad for Deigning to Message You.
Not everyone enjoys being on the apps. They can feel soul-sucking, inauthentic, or like you’ve sold out. But if you’ve decided to take the plunge—enthusiastically or not—you can’t then pretend to be better than the masses. And don’t use the precious amount of space you have to tell the world you’re judging them. Of course you’re judging them; that’s the point of swiping. But saying the quiet part out loud will not endear you to anyone.
Out with the old:
“Going to delete this soon.”
“Don’t know why I’m on here.”
Answering a prompt about the worst decision you’ve ever made with “this.”
“Only here to find a wedding date” seems like a poor decision for many reasons.
Any sort of critical remark about what you’re sick of seeing on the apps, aka exactly what this entire piece is about. (But I’m at least offering alternatives, okay?)
In with the new:
Truly, just spend the requisite 15 minutes thoughtfully considering your bio and/or prompt responses; the less snark the better. No one is going to roll their eyes at you for daring to present yourself well. Think of it like approaching someone cute at a bar—you want to give it your best shot (without being creepy), and if it doesn’t work out, no harm, no foul.
Now that The Office is erased from your Tinder profile, the 2020s are your decade for meeting your soulmate on the internet, an unshakable factoid about your relationship that will be referenced by everyone over the age of 40 at your wedding. Congrats to the happy couple!
Dating
Some of us are not impressed by all that height-given privilege.
Originally Appeared on GQ
