Is there anything we can learn about dating from Bridgerton, or is that stupid?

I asked Nicola Coughlan, Luke Newton, and Jess Brownell tips about dating, because I'm looking for answers in all the weirdest places

Getting “back on the apps” is a statement that’s usually delivered with the intonation of a doctor informing you that they left a scalpel somewhere inside you - something has gone wrong, and a lot of pain and suffering will happen as a result. A relationship has ended, a whole hypothetical future dashed, and now you are “back on the apps”. 

I recently tried the apps. I was on them once briefly many years ago, and managed to meet and date a broad spectrum of psychopaths - so yeah, you could say I’m thrilled. My motive this time was specifically as research for an article - I’ve decided that this round of singledom is going to be my Carrie Bradshaw phase, where I explore the trials and tribulations of dating through my incredibly lucrative column. The first “like” I got on Hinge was from a woman who proudly listed the following dating prompt.

 “A random fact I love is: Sunset”.

I guess that the concept of a sunset is a random fact. The next like I got was from some guy proudly looking for “The JFK to my Jackie O”.

“So you want someone to cheat on you and then die in your lap, with my brains in your hands?” I asked. There was no response.

 Over the hundreds of profiles I perused, I couldn’t help but feel whatever is the opposite of a spark of interest - instead I felt any hint of attraction turn soggy and crumble away like wet cake on the side of a plane. Oh, you like to TRAVEL? Really, how FASCINATING. Stop talking so I can remove my pants immediately, because that is so UNIQUE and BRILLIANT. Oh, you’re looking for someone who owns “at least one tent”? I don’t have a tent, but I do live in a house. Looking for the Jim to your Pam? Well, bad luck, because unlike Jim I have ambition and good hair.

I couldn’t help but wonder (ok ms bradshaw!) - have dating apps become the opposite of romance?

In the new season of Bridgerton, we find Penelope Featherington (played by the actual GODDESS Nicola Coughlan) in a regency version of the same quandary, forced to commit to her third season as a debut (which essentially makes her a spinster) in order to find a husband. Her motivation is nothing to do with love and romance - it’s so she can move out of her family home and the potential of having one of her idiot sisters in charge of her. A huge mood, for any adults who have been forced to move back home.

‘All these rules are to keep the marriage mart churning, but once you have performed your function and met your match, you are free,” Benedict Bridgerton says at one point.

I gotta say, finding myself single in my drastically late thirties feels a little bit like being out for my third social season - not only am I an old hand at the game, but I’ve grown cynical and tired and despondent at the prospect of ever finding what I want from the entire process.

While this is relatable, it’s also a common conceit in Bridgerton, a show entirely devoted to the belief that true love and romance not only exists, but is waiting for all of us, no matter how contrived the courting rituals are. Every season, we have at least one character who spurns the pageantry and pomp of the Ton’s social season, the balls and promenades and soirees that form the nobility’s “marriage mart”. In fact, in season 3 along with Penelope, we also have a new Bridgerton debut in Francesca Featherington, a somewhat shy, self-possessed girl who seeks to make a quick match so she can simply be done with the rigamarole and drudgery of courtship and the season. Another mood.

The comparison between the Ton’s marriage mart and modern dating apps is obvious - both are essentially formalising a courtship process - but I had to wonder if the upper crust of nobility in Bridgerton have a much better system than slamming your head against the wall while reading someone’s dating profile which confidently expresses that her “irrational” fear is snakes. Nobody on these apps knows the meaning of the word “irrational” - which is probably why they keep persisting in being on them.

Courtney Love

“It's weird because there's nothing that's 100% good or 100% bad, but I think at that time people were quite clear about their intentions, which I feel like was a nice thing. Like, you know, you'd have a ball and then the next day at calling hour they would come and see you if they liked you. So you're not waiting on a text”, says Nicola Coughlan to me on the subject of modern dating versus regency courtship. 

I am lucky enough to interview both her and romantic co-star Luke Newton, during an elaborate Bridgerton press event in NSW’s Bowral, which I also wrote about for The Guardian. For some reason, I’m convinced that their stint on the show might give them some kind of romance insight that can help me in my hour of need.

Nicola seems quite taken with the idea of ballrooms over Tinder, although as we’re chatting, starts to second-guess herself.

“But then, human nature doesn't change that much,” she shrugs. “I guess a lot of the apps nowadays are based on just people's appearance and in the Regency world, it was similar - you go to the ball and you dress up… so I don't know.”

“There are real similarities I guess in the Bridgerton world, although maybe they have more romantic versions of courtship than what we have today,” Luke Newton suggests. “But then, yeah, there's also a lot of rules which are quite restricting I think.  Like -  go to a ball but leave early so that you seem more desirable. It's like, I want to stay and party and have a drink!”

“Yeah yeah yeah yeah. And don't dance with someone more than once!” Nicola adds. They tell me that over three seasons of Bridgerton, they’ve become minor experts on regency courtship rules.

three of my close personal friends, courtesy of Netflix.

The interesting thing is that for the characters of Penelope and Colin, their romance (if it does occur in this season, no spoilers, but lol imagine if it didn’t?) essentially works outside the structures of the Ton, and follows the classic romance trope of “friends to lovers” - a romance that grows from an already established relationship, such as childhood friends, in this case.

“With friends to lovers, I think the most difficult part is believably taking these characters out of the friend zone,” says executive producer and showrunner Jess Brownell. I was incredibly excited to chat to Jess, because as someone in the middle of writing TWO romance books, I relished the chance to chat structure and tropes with someone deeply successful at crafting romance narratives.

“Why is Colin suddenly seeing Penelope in a new light? That was the challenge coming into the season. Fortunately, because Penelope is putting some distance between herself and Colin after last season, that creates space, I think, for Colin to see her in a new light and allowed us to shift their relationship.”

In fact, if you look at the season two of Bridgerton, you realise that the romance - a slow burn, enemies to lovers style affair, also happened in spite of the rules and restrictions of the courting season. Even the first season, with Lord Nevercum, used the Bridgerton courtship rules for their own purposes, attempting to utilise the system for their own practical desires - and ended up falling in love despite of it.

Perhaps the more we try to “game” dating, through either regency social seasons or dating apps, the less likely we are to find real love?

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Do you want a relationship or a handyman?

It could be said that relationships are seen as more “romantic” if they happen outside of the sorts of courtship and dating structures we’ve been discussing, and instead occur “organically”. Certainly I’ve known people who have bemoaned the fact that they met on the apps, believing it’s a bad or boring story to tell at their wedding. 

If you’re on TikTok or single or both, it’s very likely you’ve seen the rise of in-person dating meet ups, singles groups, and even friendship clubs - Gen Z in particular seem to view dating apps as a kind of failed experiment, and are moving towards real life meetings as a way to find love and relationships.

Things like a “meet cute”, where two people collide spontaneously (sometimes literally) and find themselves helplessly attracted to each other, are valorised in Hollywood. However, this doesn't really translate into real life, with research showing that more Australians meet their partner online than through friends and work.

“Dating apps aren’t conducive to stumbling into just the right person precisely when you weren’t looking for them,” says two of my favourite romance scholars in the world, Dr Jodi McAlister and Lisa Portolan, in this fantastic article for The Conversation. Lisa is a specialist in dating apps and digital intimacy, while Jodi “Dr Love” McAlister, is an expert on representations of love in popular culture, so really they’re the perfect duo for my conundrum.

“Dating apps rely on a logic of active choice: you sign up to the app in pursuit of some form of coupledom. In interviews… conducted with dating app users, many described these apps as pre-meditated and strategic. When talking about what they might want in a relationship, many participants specifically desired a “Hollywood moment”, but felt this could never happen via a dating app,” they explain.

This actually rings extremely true for me - one of the things that drove me crazy about my foray onto the apps were the requirements that people felt compelled to list. Sometimes these were extremely functional - does or doesn’t want kids, already has kids, must be fine with several cats of varying sizes and temperaments. But others started becoming prohibitive - “looking for someone fit and can run marathons with me” or one that I enjoyed “must be career oriented, happy, and handy around the house”. Lady, you might be describing a plumber - you can just hire them, you don’t have to marry them.

This probably comes from a concept that I was reminded of when I read Good Material by Dolly Alderton last year (which I thought was meh, but had some interesting dating analysis) where people looking for a new relationship after a breakup put undue emphasis on the thing that basically broke up their previous romance or annoyed you about your previous partner. For example, if your partner was a terrible cook, you might fixate on getting a really good cook this time around - but maybe forget the other things which did work/ were important in your old relationship.

Dating becomes a kind of utilitarian checklist, full of red flags and dealbreakers and rules - the opposite of being swept off your feet.

But this matches with the conceit of Bridgerton season 3 - Penelope is not motivated to find a husband during this social season by real love or real desire for another person - it’s because she wants to get out of her family home, wants what little independence a woman of that era can find for herself through marriage.

Romance, the show often puts forward, is something you find DESPITE the intricate rules and traditions of courtship and dating. There is a conundrum at the heart of dating, that stretches all the way from the fictional era of Bridgerton to the blighted year of 2024 - does the action of trying to methodically find love through dating apparatus and courtship opportunities inherently strip the relationship of the romance?

The lesson is be yourself

I guess, at the heart of dating, is the question of what you actually want from the whole experience? The apps are certainly filled with thousands of specifics - people screaming into the void for someone kind and honest and with good banter. I can safely tell you that anybody who uses the word “banter” earnestly would explode at the quality of mine - but they’ll never know. People are looking for short, longterm, casual, polycule nightmare experiences, you name it. My favourite profiles are the ones that are clearly reactionary to their most recent breakup - I saw one which said “looking for someone who doesn’t want to spend any time with my bitch sister”.

Obviously there’s very practical functions to this - at my age, the conversation of children needs to be had clearly and quickly, because that’s essentially about what you want to do with the rest of your life. But it doesn’t really have anything to do with falling in love - it seems like all these “rules” for dating that we invent are our best way of trying to game the universe’s dating algorithm - if I like kayaking and lord of the rings and YOU like kayaking and lord of the rings, then maybe our share enjoyment of oars and orcs might make it easier for love to bloom? Or is it as useful as spitting into the wind, kicking the waves so that the inexorable ocean won’t suck you out into its depths to meet the mermaids? Is love something that hits out of the blue, or is it built together using tools like shared passions and joys? 

“The most attractive thing is when someone can make you laugh,” Nicola Coughlan declares. “There's gorgeous moments between them [Peneople and Colin] where they just laugh together and you feel that connection.”

This is true for me too - but would it be impossible for me to fall in love with some dour hottie? Probably. I am extremely funny myself, which comes with certain responsibilities (not dating anyone who enjoys Young Sheldon).

It shows that while you can try your best and hope for the best with dating, the only thing you actually have control over is yourself. As a wise woman once said, how the hell are you gonna love someone else if you can’t love yourself? Like everything RuPaul says, it’s trite pop-psychology that only sounds profound because it’s built on a fundamental truth.

“Our tagline internally for the season was, ‘you have to find your true self before you can find true love’”, Jess Brownell tells me, explaining that Penelope Featherington’s love story is about finding her own strength and internal truths.

“There's a reason why I'm not writing the posters - I think ‘even a wallflower can bloom’ is so much better. But that was a real theme for us. And so each of them do have to go on a very personal solo journey before they're ready to find love.”

Through this, I've realised I have basically no idea what I want from the apps, or from a relationship at this point in time. Like Penelope, there are a bunch of practical reasons why I think I might want a relationship - revenge, not dying alone, someone to buy a house with, another parent for my needy hound - but absolutely no idea if I want to put myself back into the emotional vortex of a relationship, and risk my already bruised and beaten heart getting wounded again. 

But when I do feel ready, will I sit back and wait for romance to find me - or will I set myself the goal of finding a husband, make myself sparkle, and throw myself back on the rack of courting and dating? Dearest reader, I have no fucking idea.

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