We’ve hopped, skipped, and jumped into January, haven’t we? I can’t look at Instagram without seeing one of three ‘this month has lasted a year’ memes. But I can’t relate. The first thirteen days of 2026 have flooooown – and I’m here for it.
So, too, is my shiny new Hinge profile.
Farewell, the app-free life
YES, the year I swore off dating apps is over – and like any single woman in her late-twenties-approaching-thirty on a mission, I didn’t do the whole ‘uhhhh, what day is it???’ lull between Christmas and New Year. Instead, I put my dating hat on, tried to turn my overthinking head off, and set out to make the best damn profile Hinge has ever seen. (And by that, I mean the best profile it’s seen for 5″5 me – because I’ve obviously deleted and redownloaded that app about 914 times.)
Those days of graft paid off and I was ready to put it to the test. But not in the way you’d think. Lads within an 18-mile radius of me weren’t gonna be the first to see my all-singing (no singing actually), all-dancing (a hint of dancing, but nothing major) profile. Instead, my girlfriends’ boyfriends and fiancés got their own private premier.
LUCKY THEM, right?
How it started…
One Sunday pre-Christmas, we’d all got together to make a roast, and the conversation turned towards my dating life. Lack of* dating life, if you will.
One of the guys – let’s call him ‘House of Fraser’ – said that one of our activities (activities are mandatory in this gang) for New Year’s Eve should be a review of my Hinge profile. I.E., getting the boys in a room with me to review my new profile – and make the necessary changes to find a man so I could stop third-wheeling them and my friends.
‘What could be the worst that could happen?’ I thought.
…vs how it’s going
And so New Year’s Eve rolled around, and as is tradition in our friendship group, we stuck closely to our agenda. The Champagne was opened, the girls shoved the guys away from the snacks so we could get first dibs whilst catching up for the first time in two days (I LIVE for my friends living around the corner), and the chatter turned into incoherent screams as as the games came out, the karaoke got rowdy, and the 10pm chilli was served (a genius move – thank you, House of Fraser).
Somewhere after the chilli but before Auld Lang Syne, it was time to thrust the profile I’d been working hard on into the spotlight. Those of you that know me (and work with me – hi, welcome to this side of my life) know I don’t like to be wrong. Which means I like to be right – and no less about the six pictures, three prompts, and voicenote I’d put together, all in the hope of tempting a guy to ask me out.
Getting your Hinge reviewed isn’t for the fainthearted
Well.
Well, well, well.
No word of a lie, House of Fraser and, erm, ‘Healthy’ (brace yourselves, there are a few codenames about to come into play that’ll only make sense to a few of you), hadn’t looked at the profile for even 10 seconds when the feedback started to come in as fast as Larry had been pouring the Champagne.
‘You’ve got too many pictures with friends.’
‘You need a better picture of your face.’
‘Your answer to this prompt is waaaay to long.’
‘And in this one, you’re sort of passive aggressively describing the exact guy you want to date. I’d think ‘na’, that’s not for me and swipe left.’
(In fairness, when I read back my original answer to the prompt ‘We’ll get along if’, I realised it did come across as though I had this pretty concrete idea of who I wanted to talk to. Fair point, HoF.)
So.
Bless them. And I mean it – BLESS YOU BOTH, House of Fraser and Healthy. Because had they not taken the review this seriously and been this honest, the sub-optimal profile would have hit the market on New Year’s Day. And I’m preeeeeetty sure you’d all agree that it wasn’t anywhere near the more ‘me’ version that I ended up putting out there.
It’s been nice to get to know myself again
You see, before the NYE review, I had fallen into the trap that I’ve been falling into with lads for YEARS (cry me a river, I know) – trying to show them a version of me I think they’d want and one I reckon they’d find attractive, rather than just being who I’ve been for nearly thirty years.
And that means guys are now swiping left or right on photos of me proudly holding the best Ben & Jerry’s I’ve ever had, having the tiiiiiiiiiiime of my life at apres, and ugly laughing so hard with two friends. (I don’t really mean it when I say ‘ugly’ – when I see that photo and others from the day it was taken on, I am filled with SO much joy. But to a dude on an app, it might look a little – er – feral. But beggars can’t be choosers and all.)
Amid the hours I spent horizontal on the sofa on New Year’s Day, I spent some time turning the guys’ thoughts into action on my profile. Once I’d done my best, I sent a screen recording FT (pretty funny) commentary to my friends so I could get a final round of feedback. And this time, it was all positive.
Well, nearly. I’d made a last minute addition of a voice prompt (IKR), which goes a little something like this:
Prompt: I’ll pick the topic if you start the conversation.
My response: “The olive rule. Do you agree or disagree that it’s a thing?”
House of Fraser’s fiancé – let’s call her M&S for the lols – said she did find the whole voice prompt situation ‘strange’. But M&S isn’t the biggest fan of a voicenote, whereas I’m one of those people that would choose a voicenote over a typed message any day. (And M&S also doesn’t know what the olive rule is, so maybe she was just feeling left out.)
It turns out a fair few fellas are into the voice thing as well. The olive rule itself leaves much to be desired (it’s a niche reference unless you’ve watched HIMYM), but I’ve had a fair few compliments on my voice. Which, for someone who struggles to pronounce ‘prawn’ correctly, I’m seeing as a win.
Pictures sorted, prompts written, voice recorded, and we launched into the Hinge-sphere on 1st January, 2026. In the words of my friend, ‘Bernard’, all that was left to do was to ‘accept the chat from anyone that doesn’t look like a serial killer’.
Fingers crossed. Deep breath.
Trying to filter out the serial killers
As for how the profile’s been doing? Turns out the boys knew what they were talking about (which makes sense – they met my friends on apps, too).
So as much as I’ve hopped, skipped, jumped, and joked about the NYE review, it really was a NYE of honest and constructive feedback, and a shit-tonne of musical renditions from people under the influence of my homemade toffee vodka. And if any ladies (or gents) out there are feeling in a rut with Hinge, then here’s some unsolicited advice from someone who really has been there, done that, t-shirt pending.
First, delete it. Delete it for as long as it takes you to feel like you want to start dating again, not as long as it takes you to feel like the apps are the only way to meet someone. Trust me, I know – I might’ve taken a step away last year but I stepped into a whole other way of meeting men. (NOT like that, excuse you.)
Second, ask your friends what they think – what they reaaaally think – about your profile. Because it’s damn hard to try and figure out the photos or words about yourself that someone else is gonna find attractive. So ask the people who know you best. And remember this – you’ll end up showing them the not-as-Hinge-y parts in the long run, so don’t shy away from showing them what makes you ‘you’ – even if you’re a Ben & Jerry’s scoffing, crinkly-nose-laughing olive-enthusiast.
Third, try not to take it too seriously. Now, that’s coming from me (hilarious) – and is the part I’ve always found the hardest. I did have to have a serious word with myself before downloading it again the other week. Because once you’re on an app, it’s so easy for it all to consume you – and it’s often all anyone asks about. When people know you’re on Hinge (or Tinder or Bumble or any of the other 1,400+ apps out there) it’s a real easy topic for them to talk and question and gossip to you about. From who you’re talking to and how many dates you’ve got lined up to ‘can I see a picture???’ to why you’re not, actually, going on any dates (don’t you want to meet someone?), it can feel like a lot. Because it IS a lot – it’s a lot to put yourself out there like that anyway, and it’s a lot for it to become the seemingly most interesting thing about you. Trust.
Where I’m at now
All this said, and I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess you might just want me to answer those questions about how Hinge 2026 has been for me so far. Besides telling you about the fact I now have a profile that doesn’t make me question who I am as much as past ones have, for once, I’m gonna keep this to myself. (For now, at least. Unless I have, in fact, met someone who’s a secret serial killer. I reckon you’d end up finding out about that one way or another.)
Acknowledgements
WOAH, my first acknowledgements!!! (Cheers for reading if you’ve made it down this far, hahahaHA.) I’ve already messaged the gang this evening to warn them about their guest appearances. And that I’ve used codenames to protect their anonymity, because we know how many people this blog reaches and I CBA for the fallout when the Daily Mail goes knocking at their doors to find out more about me and run one of those ‘I met so-and-so and they showed their true colours’ articles the editors are loving at the moment.
Big love to House of Fraser for suggesting the lads help find me a fella in the first place, and his and Healthy’s genuinely lovely feedback on the profile. I know it may have come across more sarcy than genuine above, but if you know one thing about me, you’ll know that Gary may have also made a tiny guest appearance here. (In-joke, soz readers. We’ve not got enough time to explain that one, nor the codename backstories.)
But the biggest love of all has to go to M&S, Bernard, and Larry for sticking with Tinder and Hinge in the past to find the loves of their lives and three excellent guys to share them with (and no, they’re not sharing two between three – I don’t remember what the third guy – we’ll call him ‘Hugh Jackman’ – was doing during the profile review. Probs rehearsing for his karaoke slot at his inaugural NYE party with us lot.)
There you have it, the first blog of 2026 done. I do feel like I need a better line to close on than that – something that plays on WHinge (get it?) would be ideal. But team, it’s late, my glass of red is empty, and I really wanna get into bed and get out of my own head and read someone else’s words. So, until next time xxx
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