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"  Until recently, Tinder had been to me like the new Mogador macaron from Pierre Herm\u00E9: a curious treat that I hadn&amp;#039;t yet had the chance to bite into. But since my Brooklyn hipster and I broke up last month, I decided to download the app to accelerate my uncoupling recovery with some fast-dating. I first liked how playful and easy it was: swipe through it, reject unfitting bachelors to the left and pick up the handsome ones to the right. This seemed like the best gambling game ever\u2014fun, light hearted and somehow even soothing to get &amp;quot;matched&amp;quot; to the cutest strangers in my neighborhood. My growing collection of Tinder crushes was suddenly giving me more joy than filling a basket on Net-a-Porter. The most striking of my virtual gentlemen ended up being Barnabe, a 28-year-old drop dead gorgeous musician who had yet to initiate a conversation. My bet was that he was too shy, or that every Tinderette had chosen him as a match. Protected by my screen, I felt comfortable enough for a Sadie Hawkins approach. I simply typed &amp;quot;Hi!&amp;quot;. Barnabe responded, and it turned out that he had a lot to say. He was doing Saturday gigs at the Leadbelly. He loathed Brooklyn and after 3 weeks was ready to move back to Harlem. And, finally: &amp;quot;Wanna grab a beer?&amp;quot;...To which I thought, &amp;quot;What?&amp;quot; Maybe the Saint Laurent leather trousers I was wearing in my profile picture were sending the wrong message. But I agreed, under the condition that he would play my favorite song from the Kinks. &amp;quot;Yah!&amp;quot; he responded cheerfully,&amp;quot;Waterloo Sunset.&amp;quot; Well... Actually, I was thinking of &amp;quot;Lola,&amp;quot; but I digress. Our first, last and fast date confirmed what his series of self-obsessed messages had hinted at: the only topic Barnabe was really into was... Barnabe. This lone unfortunate experience led me to the immediate conclusion that Tinder was the wrong place to find love. What if I had swiped away my future husband because his pictures didn&amp;#039;t look cool enough? For meeting men, I will go back to a more risky place: real life. And to get post-break-up relief, I texted my sister in Paris to head to the closest Pierre Herm\u00E9 p\u00E2tisserie to send a special FedEx for me. Right now, happiness sounds like getting a bite of that Mogador macaroon, while browsing the @pornforwomen Instagram thread on my own iPhone. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.harpersbazaar.com/culture/features/a2376/lola-rykiel-tinder-dating/>