There’s Tinder. And then there’s Tinder for the hotshots and celebs amongst us. The app, now in beta, catering to the latter demographic would be The League (not to be confused with the testosterone-fueled FX show by the same name that I am into).
The idea is that there’s a wider cross section of singles in search of mates than we even care to admit. Regular people are looking for love, and then there’s a subset of people looking for love who enjoy high social standing. That social standing might diminish if it got out that they were on some type of online or mobile dating platform.
As an answer to this concern, The League is not open to all of us schlubs. Users have to be selected and deemed worthy. The people who created the app make these selections by considering factors like education, professional industry, and a referral system by the already-approved elites.
Of course, the startup’s co-founder, a 29-year-old San Francisco resident named Amanda Bradford, downplayed the exclusivity factor and made the app seem like less of a popularity contest to Forbes. Her priority is privacy. Her contention, thus, is that there are plenty of high-functioning, single individuals in search of privacy as they search for love. Everybody and their mother don’t need to know that they’re on an app dedicated to romance.
One of the more interesting statements she made was this one:
I thought this was a shame, that there was this whole demographic of people that were highly successful but felt too uncomfortable with the openness of dating apps.
I guess I could see what she’s talking about. Afterall, for as much as the stigma of digital dating has been reduced, there’s still some shame. Part of me wants to call those people only willing to go with an exclusive application like this pretentious. Yet the other part of me thinks there’s some intelligence there and wonders if the crop of available users might somehow be better given the scrutiny.
Somehow, however, crazies, in my experience, always seem to find a way to hide their wackiness and get in on the fun too. We’ll see if that becomes the case with The League.
We’ll also have to see how active the app becomes locally. Right now the startup is letting the crowd dictate its market strategy. They’re asking wannabe user to download their product, which then places them on a coveted waitlist. Judging by where waitlist signups reside, The League will concentrate their geographic efforts.
Based on all of the people that are kind of a big deal in the Metro-D.C. area (or at least view themselves that way) this should be no contest. Career-oriented individuals? Check. Advanced degrees? Check. A desire to be in on something that not everyone is allowed to be in on? You bet.
The League, therefore, could soon be in the mix of love-seeking apps coming to a smartphone near you.