Originally the app focused on common connections and mutual friends that you and a potential partner shared on Facebook, which was a gimmick I was never sold on. But it has since pivoted away from this model. Hinge has designed the app to make user profiles more engaging (and helpful) than on apps like Tinder. You have the option of displaying a lot of useful information that could be deal breakers: Your political leanings, your religion, your alcohol consumption frequency or even your interest level in having children someday. The prompts provided by Hinge make it easy to create more engaging profiles.
Hinge's current slogan is "designed to be deleted," so if a potential match for a serious relationship is what you're looking for, this is the dating app I would recommend.
Coffee Meets Bagel
Coffee Meets Bagel hopes to offer people better-quality matches by sending curated daily matches, or "bagels," each day at noon. They suggest ice-breakers for first messages and the profiles are more in-depth than Tinder. For people who like a little extra hand-holding, CMB isn't the worst option. However, I found the app confusing to use, with too many features and a lot of gimmicks. I shouldn't have to look up online tutorials to figure out how to use a dating app. Plus why call matches Bagels?
I was also disappointed in the notifications, which I found too pushy. CMB was constantly "gently" reminding me to message people I'd matched with. I eventually disabled the app after receiving the following notification: "Show [match name] who's boss and break the ice today!" Should a potential future relationship be rooted in a hierarchical power dynamic? At the end of the day, I have friends who've had the perfect match on CMB, but it isn't one of my favorite online dating apps.
Happn matches you with people who are located nearby. It's a cool concept and helpful for people who want to meet someone in a more organic manner. That said, I've never met a single person who actually uses the app.
After signing up, Happn showed me 68 people it said I'd crossed paths with in the preceding 3 hours, though I hadn't left my apartment all day. This might be helpful if you're looking to date your immediate neighbors (or Uber drivers), but I don't see the attraction when competitors like Tinder already show the distance between you and other users. Frankly, if I saw an attractive guy in a coffee shop, I'd just approach him rather than check to see if he's on Happn. The app seems designed for people who don't want to use online dating sites but also don't want to approach people in real life. Pick a lane.
The League is an "elite dating app" that requires you to apply -- and supply your job title, college and LinkedIn profile. Big cities tend to have long waiting lists, so you might find yourself twiddling your thumbs as your application to be one of the elite singles on the app is reviewed. (Of course, you can pay to expedite the process.) The exclusivity can be a draw for some and a turnoff for others, but I'll let you in on a secret: I've seen most of the profiles I come across on The League on other dating apps, too. So at the end of the day, you'll probably see the same faces for potential dates on Tinder, if you aren't deemed elite enough for The League.
Most dating apps are fairly LGBTQ inclusive. Still, it's nice to have an app to call your own. Her is tailored to lesbian, bisexual and queer women. It's a worthy notion -- but the app has some bugs and glitches that made it frustrating to use. Most of my queer female friends have told me they found the app "just OK" and not perfect and that they usually end up back on Tinder or Bumble. Still I checked it regularly for some time and had a few pleasant conversations with actual human beings. Isn't that all we're really looking for in a dating app?