Meet Generation Z’s emergency matchmaker. Me

So at the risk of attracting those deeply unkind OK Boomer comments, may I direct you to a quote from the greatest relationship classic of all time: “If you can’t be with the one you love, honey, love the one you’re with.”

Some tips for the young people. Ditch the dating apps. Ask your friends to introduce you to their cousins. Ask your cousins to introduce you to their friends. Take a few risks, even with someone who doesn’t immediately bowl you over. Having sex on the first, second or third date is unlikely to kill you. (Ignore Materialists.)

Anyone signing up to my services must hand over a complete internet search history or go back to Tinge. That’s material to any relationship.

That one-night stand might not be wildly interesting or successful but on the other hand, it could be. Without wishing to be too graphic (well, yeah, I’d like to be, but you know, mainstream media these days), these things take time.

Got a job? Become the person who says: “Let’s organise a picnic in the great outdoors.” Or a visit to a bowling alley. Or whatever is not in front of a screen, either big or little. See people in real life.

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As a young woman, I don’t think I thought every bloke would be Mr Right – and certainly for the first few years I just hoped that I’d meet Mr Pretty Good or Mr Near Enough. So can I blame Gen Z for their own failings? Look, I’d like to, but I think there are some mitigating circumstances.

They were born – and grew up – in this time of alienation. Interaction is on screens, where you can’t smell or touch or taste. Sure, you can see, although barely. But about half of the beginning of a new relationship is that raw animal magnetism I mentioned earlier. Or even vaguely cute, cooked (in a good way) and smells delicious. This last one is pretty important, IMHO.

Why the search history? Might be good to avoid having sex with someone who was trained on porn and by Andrew Tate. Erk. The choking. The violence. The desire to be smooth and silky in everywhere all at once. I’m not an effing Barbie doll and definitely don’t have a vulva like hers either. And I would never have wanted to have sex with Ken. Hair is tufty, tickly and gorgeous (and if I write that I find my lovely husband’s hairiness and beardiness erotic, my children will never speak to me again).

Now, the small problem of the word “relationship”. I’m pretty sure I started saying I had a boyfriend after my first kiss. Adorable. In someone’s backyard with a spotty young bloke who had braces. Would I have used the word relationship? Unlikely. But boyfriend? Sure and yes, please. From Mr Spotty to Mr Unusual Penis to Mr Incredibly Unfaithful to Mr Not Very Interesting. But to get a go, you have to have a go, or whatever that ridiculous phrase is.

New research from the Netherlands tells us that structured formats like matchmaking may emphasise shared values and long-term compatibility, whereas fast, visually driven settings – such as dating apps or speed dating – tend to highlight superficial traits. Well, der.

Time to move on and move up. I am open for business.

Jenna Price is a regular columnist for The Sydney Morning Herald.

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