For all you know, I could actually really like alternative or rock music.
The point is, stop trying to prove to me that you’re “down” with whatever.
But they should have accomplished something in their 20s.” Yeah, by that standard, I probably wouldn’t have even qualified. Well, I am an Ivy League grad but I have never seen it as something special.
My bachelors from Duke would be invalidated by the fact that I was a penniless screenwriter, selling hair restoration products over the phone in my late 20’s. Listen, I’ve been in the dating business since my early 30’s. Niche sites are so small that they barely warrant a membership. In any event, I would certainly not be on there because I don’t appreciate the snobbiness of it all.
Forget money: all you need to buy love these days is an Ivy League diploma.
At least that’s the word according to Ivy Date.com, a new online matchmaking site for (you guessed it) Ivy League alums.
And the holy grail everyone is trying to crack is how to have a “curated” dating site or matchmaking site with only the “good” people on it. And, of course, two people from Yale aren’t actually more compatible than if she went to Yale and he went to the University of Maryland. I think it reeks of elitism and I don’t see how the type of school you graduated from or the type of job you have has anything to do with how compatible you are to another.
And, while there is nothing necessarily wrong with it, it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
For some Black women, going on a date with a White man can be extremely nerve-wracking, especially if it’s their first time dating a white man. ” Well, in this case your best bet is to go into the date thinking that he’s just a normal guy, regardless of his race.
You might be wondering, “Will we have anything in common? Unfortunately, sometimes that plan fails miserably because some of these White men can’t help but keep reminding you that you are Black and they are White.
Ivy Date was founded by two graduates of Harvard Business School, which–given that school’s sheer abundance of white-collared yuppies with 0 glasses and ,000 laptops and ten cents of common sense and zero percent compounded interest in the sex department–frankly surprises no one.
Beri Meric & Philipp Triebel, both former investment bankers (which also explains a lot), have thrown themselves into the business of Your Sad Pathetic Love Life with a blessed fervor characteristic of coked-up, laid-off wheeler-dealer types.
That says a lot about the sorts of people involved in this Ivy-League-Yenta trading-card game: not only are they very choosy about college sweatshirts, but they’re also quite keen on dental health care and 401(k)s. Hey, there’s no way we’re getting dental in this line of work–where do we sign up?