Before the Swipe: When London Flirting Had Some Balls

Once upon a time, fancying someone in London involved looking at them. Possibly walking over. Occasionally saying something so spectacularly stupid that your mates would remember it for the next fifteen years.

Now you can reject forty people before your toast pops up. Efficient? Certainly. Sexy? About as sexy as clearing your inbox.

With The 90s: Art and Fashion opening at Tate Britain on 8 October, there’s a convenient excuse to revisit a decade that made a proper occasion of going out. The clothes, the clubs, the glorious business of being seen. Somewhere between then and now, finding a date became something you could do from the toilet. Progress has its peculiarities.

For example nowadays you can even pay for the escort services of a professional London escort at a click of a button. So many London escort agencies now have online booking forms and if you prefer to book by call, there is always a friendly receptionist at the other end of the line, ready to help you choose the companion of your dreams. 

You actually had to leave the house

Let’s spare ourselves the fantasy that every London night in the nineties involved a supermodel, a member of Blur and an invitation somewhere fabulous. There were sticky floors. Dreadful chat-up lines. Men wearing enough aftershave to affect neighbouring postcodes.

But you went out knowing that something might happen. You got dressed, met your friends and entered a room full of people who hadn’t already been filtered by height, occupation and whether they wanted children.

If someone caught your eye, there wasn’t a little heart button to handle the introduction.

You had to say something. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes she turned back to her friends and you returned to yours, where an entirely unnecessary reenactment of your failure was already being prepared.

A bruised ego, perhaps. Usually recoverable by breakfast.

Great profile. Long evening.

Dating apps have their uses. They introduce people who might otherwise never meet, and there’s something reassuring about knowing the person you’re approaching is also looking for a date.

Unfortunately, they’re rather better at showing you someone’s holiday photographs than revealing whether you’ll enjoy their company.

A voice can change everything. So can a laugh, a quick answer or the way someone notices that you’ve barely touched your drink. None of these translates particularly well into six photographs and a declaration of enthusiasm for travel.

Meanwhile, the man with the excellent shoulders may have forty-five minutes of material about his protein intake. You can appreciate the view. Dinner still requires conversation.

Meeting in person gives the less obvious attractions a chance. Someone you might have scrolled past becomes the person you keep looking for across the room.

A gallery date gives you something to work with

There’s a reason a gallery can be a better setting than two strangers sitting opposite each other, conducting what gradually becomes a recruitment interview.

You can move. Look at things. Disagree. Discover that the person beside you has a wicked sense of humour or an unexpectedly strong opinion about a photograph of a chair.

The London escorts we work with love a Tate gallery date, too. An exhibition gives the conversation somewhere to go, with room for a little teasing and a drink afterwards. Nobody has to arrive carrying a mental list of twenty questions.

This particular exhibition also offers a useful excuse to talk about your own questionable fashion history. Most of us have one. If you claim otherwise, there may be photographic evidence waiting at your mother’s house.

London deserves a better invitation than “you up?”

You have an entire city at your disposal. Suggest somewhere.

A Soho bar where you can hear each other. Live music. An exhibition followed by dinner. Even a familiar pub can make a good date if you’ve chosen it because you think the other person will enjoy it.

You don’t need to produce a military operation with three venues and a contingency spreadsheet. A specific invitation will do. “Shall we see this on Thursday and get a drink afterwards?” gives someone considerably more to work with than “we should hang out sometime”.

Once you’re there, let the evening hold your attention. Your parcel tracking can survive an hour without supervision.

Read the room, Romeo

Any fondness for old-fashioned flirting needs to leave a few old-fashioned habits behind.

Making an approach is one thing. Refusing to accept that it hasn’t worked is another. A returned smile, questions and an engaged conversation give you something to build on. Short answers and a turn back towards her friends suggest it’s time to leave her to her evening.

Confidence includes being able to take that gracefully. Nobody owes you a chance to complete your presentation.

And when the interest is mutual, give it room. Listen to the answer. Follow the joke. You’ll learn more from paying attention than from trying to remember a line you saw online.

Give the screen a night off

The appeal of revisiting the nineties is partly the clothes and music, but there’s something else worth borrowing: the willingness to turn up and see what happens.

Keep the apps if they work for you. This autumn, make a little room for meeting people without inspecting their credentials first.

Go somewhere you want to be. Wear something you feel good in. If someone catches your eye and the moment seems right, say hello.

Should your opening line fall flat, you’ll survive. Your mates may bring it up until Christmas. At least you’ve finally given them some fresh material.