DTF: Down To Friendship
Which is better, Tinder, Bumble or Hinge? The Nation wants to know!
Welcome to the world of online dating, where rejection hurts less when it’s done through a screen. The place where your personality is reduced to one swipe in either direction – right for “Hmm…” and left for “Huh?” – and you find yourself constantly walking the thin line between DTF and WTF. The F may stand for Friendship, Fornication, or Frivolous Flirtation for Future Fraternizing, in no specific order. For some people, these apps are like the Bermuda triangle – they want to get into someone’s bermudas, but they keep getting lost in the triangle, only to never hear from anyone again.
While we’re on the topic of dating apps (crassly catcalled as hook-up apps), three names come to mind – Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge in chronological order of thirst. Tinder is the oldest and the longest-running of this lot. It’s like that one uncle we all have who furiously dyes his hair (included nose ears) in a desperate attempt to be seen as one of the youths, yet gives off a creepy vibe every time he smiles. The rules are pretty simple on Tinder – swipe left for no, swipe right for yes, and swipe right for “I’m bored”. There’s also an option to swipe up. Tinder calls this the Superlike. The Superlike is for those whose threshold for disappointment has reached sadomasochistic levels. If you swipe right on a profile, and they feel charitable enough to return the gesture, you get a match. If you get a match, you’re lucky. If you’re lucky, you get lucky. If you get lucky, you chat a bit, go on a date maybe, maybe the date doesn’t end in public and leads to some naughty starters in private quarters. Then, one of you regrets it the next day. In some cases, the regret is mutual and you never meet again. The interface is red and white. One of the colours is associated with hunger and danger, and the other is associated with innocence and surrender. This is quite the metaphorical representation of the two participants involved. Human conditioning dictates that we respond to red with “stop, don’t move” and white evokes a response similar to “do what you want, I don’t care anymore”. Hint, hint.
Tinder also came up with Tinder Social, where getting rejected by one person was not enough, so you would set out in groups to find other groups to reject and be rejected by.
Then came Bumble. The television ads starring the then Ms. Priyanka Chopra, where she would come off as a confident entrepreneur meeting male acquaintances at interesting cozy cafés to pitch her business plan with the plausible intention of getting funding. The ad also threw words on the screen such as “ambitious not loose”, “curious not loose”, “busy not loose”, “free not loose”, and finally “equal not loose”. She is constantly either working or working out. So, naturally the commoner would assume Bumble to be a social app for the elite corporate. The tagline reads “A social network by women, for everyone”. It looked like it was picked from the highlight reel of Shark Tank’s best pitches.
But, much like every cosmetics advertisement, this is far from the truth. Bumble is woke Tinder. It’s got a yellow and white colour scheme that’s a bit more aesthetically pleasing. The difference here is, the women get to make the first move. The matching protocol is the same as Tinder. But, once matched, the men patiently wait 24 hours. If the woman* chooses to make the first verbal move, they have a functioning match. Otherwise, the men try their luck someplace else.
*The sample size for the statistics for this study mainly comprised of heterosexuals. This is not a sign of discrimination or exclusion. We all have deadlines. Please understand.
While Bumble does have two other modes – Bumble Bizz and Bumble BFFs – these modes are there mainly for aesthetic purposes. If you’re thirsty, you would order shakes and cocktails, not fries and fritters. The Bizz stands for business. Now it makes sense why PC was so PC. But, who knows, maybe if you’re the kind to mix a bit of pleasure in your business or vice versa, you could find someone, too. After all, Priyanka went to the US to find work and ended up finding a husband.
Finally, we have Hinge. Last and also the least in terms of the current user base. Hinge is completely different from Tinder and Bumble, but serves the exact same purpose. Just like the millennials of today who think they have the most creative ideas only to find out at the execution stage that it’s been done before. There is no swiping in Hinge. To set up a profile, six pictures are required to be uploaded as part of your profile. Most of us have the same picture taken in 5 different angles. So, now you have to go through your phone memory while triggering many embarrassing memories of your own in the quest for the moderately average photographs while trying to decide if you’re a right profile person or a left profile person. It’s like the shady travel agent who asks you for 4 passport size photos when you know he needs only two. Then, you must choose from a seemingly infinite list of question prompts. The ideal profile has 6 pictures and 4 answers. No bio required. An interested party would come across your profile, read through your answers, and then hit a vertical <3 to leave a comment. This comment will show up on your profile, and you can then choose to match with them. Hinge has successfully taken off bios, and compensated by adding more reading material. If literature was part of dating, we wouldn’t need apps, would we? But, at least this way, when you reject someone, you’ll feel like you know them a little. We all know there is no fun in dishing out rejection to randos.
So, the final question: Which is the best of the three?
If you’ve been keeping with the trends, you’ve probably deleted Tinder. Bumble is reserved for those random impulses, and Hinge is what you binge on.
In conclusion, the answer to the question is 42. 42 is the answer to the universe. Oh, and by the way, I’m only here for friendships. Hookups please stay away.