I used to have game—or at least, I thought I did. It’s been so long ago, I could have imagined the whole thing, but as I recall, my 20s and early 30s seemed like a successful tear of formative adult relationships. While none of them led to marriage, they certainly helped bring about a greater understanding of the opposite sex and my ability to attract members of it. But the past 10 months, in what can only be described as a dry spell, has led me to believe myself undateable. Yes, practically immune to landing a date. That is not hyperbole, and, as I have found out, not as entertaining a fate as the charming hot mess Greta Gerwig played in Noah Baumbach’s 2012 film Frances Ha would have it seem. Frances may have coined the term as a comical response to a few bad dates, but as an IRL undateable, I’ve begun to feel like I generally have a repelling energy. At first, I thought it was a busy work schedule that kept my personal life bleak, but when I received a text a month back from a crush asking for a job rather than a drink, I threw my hands up. What was happening? My friends, girls and guys, call me a catch.
Things began to crystallize just this week when I went to a friend’s party and found myself engrossed in a conversation with an attractive stranger. He was smart, funny, creative, successful; tucked in a small corner of a dive bar, we talked everything from Obama to threesomes for hours. When I stepped outside for a moment, the host grabbed my wrist. “He’s so into you!” she said. I cracked a bashful smile—as an undateable, I was going to take this attention in stride. “But he thinks you would never go for him,” she continued. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What part of me talking to him for a few hours seemed to suggest that I wasn’t interested? “Really?” I said. Apparently, my friend explained, he thought I might be too cool to hang out with him. I laughed in confusion: This was a book launch party in the middle of the week; it was about as wild as it was going to get for me.
And then I recalled a recent conversation with a dear friend of mine. I had been at another party weeks before, and a guy friend of hers had also been in attendance, apparently observing me from afar. As he later reported to my friend, he apparently found me “beautiful, but seemed too cool to hang out with.” I balked: I remember that party, and I think I spent most of it eating off a large frosted coconut cake someone had haphazardly left on the bar. Was this my reputation now? Attractive but ultimately inaccessible? I found these two scenarios baffling and frustrating, further proof that dating in New York is like banging your head up against a brick wall—just don’t do it. Because in truth, what do you do with that type of information? Not only is it mired in male insecurity, but “cool” seemed like a nicer way of saying “intimidating.”
Understand that observation doesn’t come from a place of hubris—I’m undateable, remember?—but I’m at least self-aware enough to know that I’m opinionated, independent, and on occasion, confident. This combination can be attractive to the right man, but ultimately overwhelming for most. We haven’t historically been so kind to women of this nature, now have we? Hence, a lot of my single female friends finding themselves in identical dating predicaments. My desk at the office has become a hub for my beautiful, smart, stylish, and rather available colleagues to suss out dating dilemmas. All of us are unique, but what I have determined is ultimately unifying is that none of us are settling. Like Frances, we all crave a very particular and, perhaps, elusive connection with someone who understands us. We’d all like a boyfriend, but we’re not trying to modify ourselves, from personality to the very way we dress, for a relationship.
That said, it never hurts to have a little wardrobe refresh, does it? So slip on Hippie Sex’s “So What, Who Cares” bomber jacket and chuck the double deuces to guys who just don’t get it. Tease those that do in Alexander Wang’s crop top with chain-link straps and a pair of Frame Le Mix cropped jeans. Stylishly revel in your undateable status, but trust us, you won’t be dateless for much longer.
