Beyond Tinder: How plagiarizing creates the modern love life.
There comes a time in life where we understand that something is bigger than ourselves. That sometimes things are just beyond our means.
Tinder is an intimidating space in which I and many other humans inhabit. I don’t want to get too far into describing Tinder because that’s a well-traveled road, but the social dating service has shifted our approach dating and our self-worth.
We as humans have largely been locked down with our romantic pursuits. As we become closer through technology we amplify the potential for finding what makes us whole.
The crux of this evolution is that Tinder and dating apps ask us to form an idealized “self”, capable of being easily digested. A self in which we can diminish our insecurities and be the inner alpha that Cosmo or Men’s Health wants us to be.
Manufacturing a perfect Tinder profile is the new form of a peacock primping. Every picture you post is a window into your life, every picture with a dog a glimpse into your seemingly perfect existence. Angles and filters implemented to hide undesirable moles, flab, children from past affairs, etc.
Developing this idealized online self is no small feat. The “me with dog” picture, or “me slack-lining in Marin”? debate is one that grips the millennial consciousness.
“Colour Me Rad pic, or a snap of my culturally appropriated Dream Catcher Tattoo?”
Even when we finish drafting our most attractive self we need to realize that there’s something more alluring than seeing “P.S. not my kids”.
Personality.
It’s not enough to be a fan of Dave Matthews and enjoy throwing the frisbee on the weekend. You need to step up your cultural capital if you’re gonna be anything more than a miserable geriatric eating parboiled noodles out of a styro on a Saturday night.
You don’t have a whole lot of time to portray your value after you match. A stray lol here, an errant eggplant there and it’s all over.
The need for brevity within a bio and conversing with one who swipes right is changing. Bios that read like Sears Catalog descriptions and patterns of emojis that could double as cryptic messages are all good, but what do they mean? How does one adapt to the wants and needs of this new digital landscape?
To succeed on Tinder, to make an impact far greater than yourself you need to consider stealing. You can’t waste time trying to cultivate a meaningful relationship with your original anecdotes about Wes Anderson films.
“Inside this dream it all begins in the body.”
See that? I just ripped a line from Pitchfork’s Neutral Milk Hotel review and I already look complex.
You might hesitate at the idea of taking one’s intellectual property to convey your emotions, but it’s quite simple. If people love landscape pictures with inspirational quotes posted over them then how much are they going to love it when it comes from you?
If Minion memes can be used a tool of social shaming then why can’t you grab someone’s backstory from Humans of New York?
Look, I have all the complexity of Kraft Dinner mixed with mayonnaise. Expressing myself is like opening a TV Guide and reading all the Big Bang episode descriptions. But when I start littering my profile with lines from David Foster Wallace I start to believe I’m more than the millennial man-child body I actually am.
When it comes to Tinder and online dating services self worth is in a constant state of flux between “Am I that bad?” to “ The moments in-between matching up with a porn bot and actually realizing it”. As we change our “preening” processes for matchmaking we are coming to the realization that who we are doesn’t match with what people want. You can hide your double chins with angles that you learned in grade six, but if you don’t start stealing to represent your personality than you might as well start at ground zero.
Now get out there and show them the best *you.
*The best you is more than likely a combination of Matt Damon and James Franco.
