I know, I know. If I had my way, we’d all be living in the 1940’s and meeting boys at dances. Having them throw stones at our windows and not chatting up birds on Tinder when we went to the loo.
I know I’m pretty much the worst person when it comes to trying to get involved with online dating, and I to this day can’t get my head round Snapchat.
I’m not exactly great at moving with the times.
I’m old fashioned. And recently, I’ve realised that I’m mega old fashioned when it comes to romance.
I recently went on a date with a boy who was charming. Cheeky, but not crude. Funny, but not overbearing. Complimentary, without being cheesy.
We had a wicked night. Giggles, wine, plenty of flirty banter.
So, when he text the next day to find out if I fancied going out again, I had somewhat of a spring in my step. Good date. Big tick for me.
So when time for the second date rolled round and his suggestion for what to do was the following….
“pop round yours for takeaway and cuddles ;)?”
…I was understandably slightly put out.
Firstly, if you think three white wine spritzers one night is enough to warrant me wanting to invite you into my home the following week, you clearly are mental. And, I’m a bit offended that you didn’t want to put a bit more effort into the pre-game, mate.
And secondly, if a wink emoji says one thing to me, it’s not cuddles.
If it’s a Chow Mein & Chill you’re after love, you’re barking up the wrong tree.
What on earth happened to woo-ing?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one of them girls who demands a six week stint of dinners at The Ivy and ice skating dates with diamonds. I like to pay my own way and the less fancy/more real a date the better.
I expect a little bit more effort to be put in than some shit Pinot and one weeknight of your life.
In a world where we can get a lay at the swipe of a thumb, have we waved goodbye to all levels of romance?
Has courting, getting to know each other and building up to a night with someone you don’t want to run away from the next morning all gone out of the window?
Because apparently, woo-ing now consists of;
Charming someone on a dating app. Having one stilted round of drinks in an overly kitsch pub somewhere that’s near both your offices because you can’t be arsed to make much effort. Assessing whether the other person flicks your switch and then attempting to remove each other’s clothes before you even really know where they went to university or if they have a middle name.
I remember, not even that long ago, when first dates were still mega exciting. You’d get really ready – not just whacking a bit of lippy on in the loos at work. One of you would pick somewhere cool/fun/interesting to go that meant you could chat, rather than just get half cut. There was such an element of excitement attached to them.
Now they feel a little bit like a shit & brutal job interview. With wine. And lots of it. And more often than not, an attempt to be in your birthday suit before midnight.
I know I’m basically on a one woman crusade to take things back to the old school, but I think we need to meet somewhere in the middle.
Before we run the risk of sleeping with everyone in London, before stumbling on the one that we want to sleep with more than once.
But more importantly.
Before we all become a bit immune to a bit of romance.