India Block
·4-min read
Having been single for all of my thirties, I’ve become comfortable with being the source of hilarious dating stories for my happily loved-up friends. I’ll do anything for the bit, but a year ago, following a spate of ghostings, I decided to start tapping into these well-meaning couples as a dating resource.
To be clear, the ghoster is me. I’d rather just let it die quietly than compose a rejection speech that would be excruciating for the both of us. But it’s horribly bad manners, I know. App-based connections mean you have nothing but your individual connection, so burying it is easy. If I’ve been introduced to someone socially, surely looking bad in front of my friends would curtail my worst impulses?
The problem is, no one is looking out for their single friends any more. I’ve been to multiple weddings where I have eagerly asked to be seated next to someone eligible, only to find that I am the only single person in attendance.
There are the friends who have been champions of setting up blind dates and wing-manning on nights out, and I treasure them. But on the most part, I’ve been let down.
Nineties rom-coms had me believing every wedding would be ripe with the potential for meet-cutes
This isn’t really my social circle’s fault. Nineties rom-coms had me believing every wedding would be ripe with the potential for meet-cutes. Today, people get married later and are funding the event themselves. Thanks to the wedding-industrial complex, all the budget is going on making sure the event is a perfect representation of the happy couple. Even guests with a long-term partner are lucky to get a plus-one.
As my colleague Maddy Mussen observed in yesterday’s Evening Standard, no one is having house parties or hosting dinners any more because we’re all still renting, or live out in the sticks to be able to afford somewhere. London’s rental, housing and cost-of-living crisis is hardest on single people’s hearts, as well as our budgets. Being intentional about tapping up friends of friends for romance did pay some dividends. At a house party (the couple live in an old pub, so had the space) I successfully got someone’s number. Mind you, they were a little baffled by the overture — apparently nowadays the etiquette is to simply follow someone on Instagram and orbit their DMs for weeks. Another symptom of App Brain, if you ask me.
Another friend had sorrowfully informed me of no single people at their party, only to find themselves later fighting through a dancefloor crush to excitedly inform me that another guest had announced their recent break-up — and expressed interest in me. Your friends want you to be happy, and nothing gives the coupled-up enrichment in their enclosure like playing horny cupid for their single pals.
I started talking about this problem to acquaintances, and have heard some heartwarming tales of the not-so-singles taking initiatives. A friend-of-a-friend and her partner are organising champagne and oyster nights for all the single people they know. Someone I know has had luck at Figs, a dinner party club for singles. Although, they are now dating their local barista, which is risky. If it doesn’t work out, they’ll need to go somewhere else for their oat flat white.
As for me, for now I’ll go back to waiting for the first round of divorces to find my person. And maybe work on breaking my ghosting habit.
The real story behind Blake Lively’s film feud
Everyone loves a cursed film, where the on-set drama spools out its own lore. The internet is divided over the feuding co-stars of It Ends With Us, an adaptation of Coleen Hoover’s wildly successful novel. Star and producer Blake Lively appears to not be on speaking terms with her male lead Justin Baldoni, while Baldoni has hired crisis PR veteran Melissa Nathan — never a great sign. Lively’s camp briefed Baldoni made her feel bad about her postpartum body, Baldoni’s people countered he only asked her weight so he could train to protect a lingering back injury for a scene where he romantically lifts her.
Lively is getting heat for running the press tour according to the Barbie playbook, wearing sparkly florals on the red carpet and coinciding it with the release of her haircare line. Standard stuff, except the film deals with the heavy topic of domestic abuse. Packaging violence against women as a cutesy rom-com sounds wild, but Hoover caught strays releasing an It Ends With Us colouring book that was ultimately cancelled over its insensitivity. Maybe the real curse is trying to market tough topics as feminine and cute.
India Block is deputy editor of Homes & Property
