New York daters saw a glimmer of hope in the summer of 2024 (aka brat summer). The calculus briefly shifted from post-pandemic dating paralysis to saying yes to everything: yes to random parties, yes to three dates in one week, yes to the vague idea that maybe—just maybe—spontaneous connection was back in play. The market was bullish, feverish with optimism as bright as Charli XCX’s neon green.
But, unfortunately, my analysis shows that this summer indicated a backslide. Since June, my single friends have been echoing the same complaints: Plans canceled as quickly as they were made, three-week lag times with matches on Hinge and Raya and situationships that dissolved after Surf Lodge on the Fourth of July. And the numbers support this malaise. In a recent Times survey of Gen Z women, more than half said they’d rather spend Friday night alone than waste it on a mediocre date. Just 13 percent were open to casual hookups. And while most wanted a meaningful connection, the consensus was that they didn’t have the energy to go for it.
The whole New York dating scene feels less like a singles market on the rise and more like one on the brink of decline. And yet, we keep adhering to it like it’s run by Regina George from Mean Girls—tiptoeing around red flags, glamorizing situationships and letting a handful of emotionally unavailable men set the tone for the entire cafeteria. It’s exhausting. It’s delusional. And frankly, it’s time we take back our lunch trays. (Or steal someone else's…)