Online dating for ivy league
“We’ve had people offer to give us free DJs for parties,” says the 5-foot-9 Bradford, who looks like an extra from MTV’s “The Hills” and graduated from Stanford business school.
Bradford says she wouldn’t immediately rule out accepting someone like a restaurant server, but, she admits, “I don’t know how many waitresses have Linked In.” “I think of this more as a power-couple app,” says Bradford, who speaks in a rapid succession of acronyms — HBIC (head bitch in charge), DFMO (dance floor make out) and HMD (hair and makeup done) among them.
(The app, which is free, even boasts a concierge service that doles out dating tips and feedback.) “I think it’s a good fit for the mentality here.” Since the app launched, she has been inundated with pleas from the public.
One mom implored the founder by email to help her soon-to-be 37-year-old daughter who “continues to enter into relationships that have no long-term possibilities: men with children, musicians, foreigners, unemployed artists.” A 33-year-old man, and a self-professed “pedigree snob,” wrote to Bradford: “Save me from the Tinder cesspool.” A 20-something Vogue editor has had no fewer than six emails sent on her behalf (she still hasn’t been accepted).
Tinder is “awful, just a mess, a waste of time,” laments the 31-year-old CEO and founder of an online automotive business.
Hinge is old news: “I went to high school with the founder,” he explains. We need that.” Apparently, so do 30,000 other New Yorkers. The company — the “country club” of dating apps, according to Bradford — uses a secret algorithm to mine potential users’ Linked In and Facebook profiles.