The Types of Guys You Meet on Different Dating Apps

illustrated by liz riccardi

what our investigation revealed

Online dating has come a long way in past few years, and instead of the shot-in-the-dark approach to finding your new squeeze, new dating apps increasingly cater to specific niches. Want a fitspo workout partner? Try SWEATT! More specifically—are you into bacon? Try Sizzl! (Or don't, I've heard it's pretty bad). 

Naturally, different types of apps attract different types of users. I would know, I've tried most of them. Here I present you with a general rundown of the varying stereotypes of men you're likely to meet on these popular dating apps. Matchmaking begins after the break.

Bumble Guy

Bumble guy is pretty progressive. He’s nice, smart, and professional.

Bumble guy went to Yale and works at a cool, socially conscious start-up. He respects women; on this app, women must make the first move in order to start conversing. He’s smart, sensitive, and kind of handsome without being intimidatingly hot. Like, he has a cool beard but still wears ugly shoes. That’s okay, cuz he would basically be the dream dude—if only he was a little more fun. Let's be honest, Bumble guy is a bit on the serious side. Try getting a few laughs outta him—otherwise, it might feel like going on a date with your professor. Are you into that? I am, for a little while. But not forever.

Pickup line: "My nieces and nephews are really adorable. What kind of parent do you think you'll be?"

Raya Guy

Raya guy has a cool job. Like, an intimidatingly cool job. He’s the creative director/photographer/graphic designer for rock stars, and he has thousands of Instagram followers.  His friends are all famous influencer types and they’re Always Having A Good Time™. Or at least, that’s what it looks like online. You’ll go on two amazing dates, and discuss art, sex, and the industry, and then you’ll never see him again because he’ll takeoff to work on a Very Famous Person’s album and start dating a “selfie model” with more Instagram followers than you. You know this because you follow his Instagram, obsessively.

Pickup line: “I’m flying out to L.A./NYC /London/ Argentina/Singapore tomorrow, but I’d love to take you out tonight and name-drop all my famous friends.”

The League Guy

Within the first three minutes of texting with The League guy, he’ll tell you how many businesses he owns, what kind of car he drives, where he went to school, and what kind of furnishings he has in his apartment. He’s a doctor with three practices in Jersey but comes to the city every weekend to stay in his parent’s spare apartment in Murray Hill and hit the clerrrbs. The League guy likes grand gestures to show you how impressively important he is—box tickets to a sporting game, perhaps a non-committal invite to an out of state polo tournament, are his calling card. This might all sound like fun for a little while, but don’t be fooled: The League guy feels entitled to everything. Including you. 

Pickup line: “I’m kind of a big deal.”

Tinder Guy

Tinder Guy is a guy you’d never meet in your real life. He’s like a vacation from your reality because Tinder connects people that, quite frankly, you would and should never cross paths with IRL.

Tinder guy could literally be anyone. He could be a bus driver, he could be a cute guy who works in finance, or he could be a school teacher. Who knows?! It’s like playing Russian Roulette. That can be a bad thing, and it can also be a good thing, depending on what you’re looking for.

You don’t know too much about him because he never bothered to fill in his profile—it’s just selfies in his dirty bathroom and dated vacation pics. None of this matters, though, you're only looking for someone to shag away the heartache from your recently ended five-year relationship.

Pickup line: “Wanna bone?”

Happn Guy

Happn guy lives in your neighborhood. So depending on where you live, Happn guy will vary. Happn guy in my neighborhood is a musician and part-time art handler/production assistant (I live in Greenpoint in Brooklyn, New York). You’ll never actually go on a date with Happn guy. Happn is just a fun game to look at while you’re waiting for the subway.

Pickup line: "Are you home?"

OkCupid Guy

OkCupid guy lives in a basement and only comes up for air every six months. Actually, I’m not exactly sure—I stopped using OkCupid over a year ago because of all the weird unwarranted sexual advances. I’m pretty sure it's just spam bots and neck beards now.

Pickup line:





“Fuck you, bitch”


Handy guy will come over for a date but clean your apartment instead. Kind of strange, but hey, I’m not complaining. You should probably tip him.

Pickup line: “Hi, I’m here to clean your apartment.”

Nail polish is for novices

Fashion label The Blonds is known for its high-intensity looks that you'd only wear if you wanted to stand out (and who doesn't?). For its runway shows, wild press-on nails are the beauty step that can't be missed. So, since the brand has partnered with CND since it was founded, we thought it best to get prepped for the show with Jan Arnold, CND's co-founder.

See why you should take your nail look from a zero to a 10, in the video above.

Shot by Charlotte Prager
Edited by Gretta Wilson
Produced by Alexandra Hsie
Production Assistant: Polina Buchak
Featuring Jan Arnold of CND Nails and The Blonds



Photo courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures.

It would've been nice if someone said the word "fat"

Back in November, Rebel Wilson claimed to be the first plus-sized lead in a romantic comedy when she appeared on Ellen to talk about her role in Isn't It Romantic. Wilson was not only wrong, but she was—even if inadvertently—erasing the work of Black plus-size actresses like Queen Latifah and Mo'Nique, both of whom have expansive resumes that include romantic comedies.

Wilson's comment isn't the first example of white women taking up a little too much space in the fat acceptance ethos. It's actually quite common. But there is a reason why women like Wilson—women who are blonde, pretty, successful, and white—get put front and center in calls for body positivity. In the same way that feminism—the movement from which body positivity was born—has often failed to address how gender intersects with other identities like race and class; so, too, has body positivity been championed as a cause for otherwise privileged women. And that's why it's no surprise that Isn't It Romantic, which aspires to be both a spot-on mockery of rom-coms and a celebration of body positivity, is actually a perfect example of how very white both the movie genre and the body positivity movement tend to be.

In the film, Wilson plays Natalie, an architect based in New York, who is single and plus-sized—the archetypal rom-com underdog. Very early on in the movie, she endures the double humiliation of both being hit by a runaway food cart and then accosted by its owner for not stopping it with her "cement truck"-like body. At work, Natalie is similarly disrespected: The office manager hands off troubleshooting tasks to Natalie; another colleague always tasks Natalie to throw out his trash; her assistant Whitney (Betty Gilpin) won't stop watching movies (rom-coms, naturally) while in the office; and Natalie is so afraid to present her ideas for more innovative parking garage designs that she isn't even widely known in the firm as an architect, and is treated like an intern.

But is Natalie just a doormat? Or is it that she isn't asking for what she wants? And isn't very nice about not getting it? If Natalie's life is any example, the bar on suffering is set pretty low for white women. In her personal life, Natalie lives alone with her dog, and seems to be pretty well-off, financially; her best friend is actually her slacker assistant, Whitney, and she's close with another coworker, Josh (Adam Devine), who gives Natalie constant emotional support. She's decidedly anti-romantic, having been told by her mother from a young age that there's no such thing as real-life fairy tales; she's level-headed and practical. But also, she's filled with self-loathing. This leads her to be crass, sarcastic, and disconnected from people. And it was this last part that was hard for me. As a fat Black woman who grew up broke, does not have an assistant, and would get fired if I didn't do my job well, it was hard, if not impossible, to root for her.

For Natalie, though, everything changes when she bangs her head while fighting off a mugger. Her mundane life is tinted through rosy rom-com glasses. Suddenly, all the things that sucked about her life are gone, and everything is beautiful and perfect. But was her life so bad before? It didn't really seem to be.

And yet, looking around the theater at the mostly white, female audience, I accepted that my feelings didn't seem to be shared. But that almost seems to be by design; this feels like a movie for a white, female audience. There is only one person of color in the movie who even has a name: It's Isabelle (Priyanka Chopra), who shows up about halfway through the film—after everything has been rom-com filtered—as a yoga ambassador and swimsuit model. But a name is all Isabella has. A supporting character at best, she doesn't have any connection to anyone other than her white boyfriend, and is sketchily drawn. We learn nothing of her familial or ethnic background, and, even when she is shown at her wedding, there is nobody from her family celebrating with her. This huge oversight is particularly bizarre, given that Natalie has already bemoaned the lack of diversity in romantic films.

Another huge oversight? The presence of the word "fat." I don't think I heard it used a single time. Natalie only references her weight indirectly, by commenting on the appearance of straight-sized women; when talking about her own body, the word "fat" is replaced with "girl like me." But by ignoring this aspect of herself, and refusing to address it head-on, Natalie is succumbing to the same fatphobia that shapes her world, whether she identifies it as being a problem or not.

Before her life becomes a rom-com, Natalie feels invisible at work and in the world. Some of this is certainly her fault, but fatphobia is also at play. Fatphobia chips away at the humanity of fat people from different angles. It means that Natalie gets used to being dehumanized; she doesn't expect others to have empathy for her when she's physically hurt, because they don't value her body. And it's no coincidence that Natalie's fantasy world includes a magically bigger apartment with unlimited clothing options, because discrimination against fat people isn't just a matter aesthetics and preferences—it affects everything from our ability to dress ourselves to our ability to make and save money, since there's a price to pay for being fat, even if it's just having to pay more to travel. Just as much as gender and race intersect with fat bodies, so, too, do economics and class.

I knew I could count on a plus-sized white comedian to take down a genre of films that prioritized thin women. But I ventured to see if Wilson could go further than that, and challenge what it means to be white and well-off and fat in the process; it isn't just about taking down rom-coms but about doing so in a way that isn't just a mouthpiece for white feminist values. But, in the end, that isn't what happened. Isn't It Romantic is fine, but it needed to do more than target an audience of girls who are 10 to 30 pounds overweight and still too jolted by the word "fat" to ever apply it to themselves, so they go for acceptable alternatives, like curvy, plus-sized—or thicc, if they're hip. But I'm not afraid to say I'm fat, I'm just disappointed I will be waiting even longer to see a realistic reflection of that experience onscreen.

Isn't It Romantic is in theaters now.