Its homepage offers the following tantalizing promises: Well, if there are two things I hate, it's riff raff and FAKE beautiful people, so why the hell not?It should be mentioned that I've never really dabbled in online dating, not even Tinder. To join Beautiful People, you fill out a brief application, which looks like this: And yeah, you do have to fill in every section, including your weight.Vain 13-year-old me ate stuff like this up (as if middle school itself didn't afford enough opportunities to have my looks/menial details about my personhood judged harshly in a public forum).Well, a few weeks ago, my lovely editor shot me an email asking me to try out a dating site that, for all intents and purposes, sounded like 2014's answer to the douchey Live Journal groups of the mid-aughts. ), and it recently made waves when applicants reportedly underwent drastic makeovers in order to gain admission.
You see, back then, there were these Live Journal communities with names like xx Gorgeousx or x___e Li Te__Xx or whatever; it was all very Gossip Girl.
You would apply to them by submitting a photo or two of yourself and filling out a questionnaire, and members would proceed to vote you in or out.
I haven't been in a cute photo sans boyfriend for, like, two years, so I decided to go with the portrait I use for my Bustle bio. I uploaded a few more photos, including one hair down (bonus: sheer shirt): From there, it seemed like a regular-enough dating site to me, with some vaguely British twists (people keep "blinking" at me instead of winking).
I have an inbox, and as of yet, it contains not-too-vile messages. So far, I'm lurking more than I'm participating, like the SUBPAR Beautiful Person I am.
Ever find yourself lazing about on your laptop on a Saturday afternoon, thinking, "Gee, I really wish someone were judging my looks in real time online right now"?
Yeah, me neither — at least, not since my middle school Live Journaling days.