If the internet has simplified one thing, it’s literally everything, you bloody Luddite! But for you/your single friends, its biggest improvements are felt when you buy clothes, or find someone on a dating site who likes those clothes enough to maybe sex you. And while you can fudge your build from “husky” to “athletic” with a calibrated profile-pic outfit, you can’t deny that your real-life style habits are totally predictable based on which service you use, be it Tinder, Grouper, Hinge, or (gulp) even eHarmony.
Don’t even try to deny it! Or do, but only after you’ve been exposed by one of these highly unscientific style profiles:
You early-adopt everything, so you have ZERO QUALMS about buttoning the top button of your Bonobos shirt after a drink or two. Do you think everyone at this bar, and in the bathroom, and in the parking lot has heard of Bonobos yet? Oh man, it’s so great.
HowAboutWe: Along Came Polly
is your favorite movie, but you’ve never actually been salsa dancing, because you sunk most of your twenties into “decks” about “social synergy” for a “creative services” agency. Flat-front chinos make you feel smugly superior towards your poorly dressed suburban colleagues
. Soon, you’ll blow their minds with a shirt-jacket.
First of all, doggie style, because sex
! Ha! But seriously, who cares? “Which
sweatpants” is a needless deliberation that will only cut into precious man-hours you need for reckless right-swiping.
You still shop Lands' End catalogs that are mailed to your modestly appointed condo, which you share with a dog and a looming sense of futility. Nothing about this is weird to you.
On the rare occasions you're not taking a selfie, your headless torso deigns to wear shirts. It is NOT pleased about it.
Until very recently, you saw no reason to upgrade those wireframe specs you’ve had since NYU. But when your mom sent you a link about Warby Parker, you decided to upgrade. Between the specs, the sensible shoes, and that new performance fleece, YOU ARE NOW THE MOST ELIGIBLE MENSCH ON JDATE/EVER.* (*According to your mom, who you're currently on the phone with.)
You buy your jeans where you buy your groceries: Wal-Mart. Right after you read this article, you’ll post a Facebook status about how inaccurate it is. All your married friends will agree. They, too, met on this site, and now post "news" about their children with startling frequency.
You’re either (1)
a post-hipster Brooklyn transplant with a now-regretted Salinger tattoo, a never-ending supply of not-clean white tees, and #menswear jewelry that you think strengthens your claims of being a freelance designer (note: it doesn’t). OR (2)
a post-college bro who trades exclusively in boat shoes, backwards beer brand promo hats, and immeasurable emptiness.
You favor blazers, wrinkle-free shirts, and pleated slacks. When people call them “trousers”, you get angry, because those are different
! You love to travel, but no matter where you go, you've always got a tie on. You guess you’re just old-fashioned that way.
Grouper: American Psycho quotes
are never not funny, right?! (Wrong!) You dress for success with an Arc’Teryx vest over a blue button-up shirt and a Vineyard Vines tie repping your New England liberal arts school’s lacrosse team.
When you like an article of clothing, you just buy the company that makes it, then burn all remaining inventory so no one can ever dress like you. You resent the term “sugar daddy” — sugar is so
weak on the commodities floor nowadays.
Dave Infante is the executive editor of The Crosby Press, and loves you long time. Follow him at @dinfontay to love/hate him back.