Dating Apps and Their History

Beyond the Swipe: The Unseen Codes of Human Connection

For centuries, long before the first dating app was conceived, people have navigated the complex world of romance using a rich vocabulary of non-verbal cues. From the subtle flick of a fan in a crowded ballroom to the deliberate choice of a flower, these hidden languages have allowed individuals to signal desire, test compatibility, and forge connections. While technology has reshaped the landscape of courtship, the fundamental human quest for love remains. The methods may have evolved from handwritten notes to instant messages, but the underlying art of discreet communication endures, revealing a timeless story about our pursuit of partnership. This exploration delves into the historical codes of love and what they tell us about relationships today.

The Disciplined Dance of Regency Romance

Courtship in the Regency era, the period around the early 1800s, was a highly public and regulated affair. Strict social conventions governed every interaction between unmarried men and women. Young ladies were seldom, if ever, left unchaperoned in the company of a gentleman who was not a close family member. These chaperones, typically older relatives, were not merely passive observers; they were active participants in the matchmaking process, scrutinising conversations and behaviour to judge a suitor’s compatibility. Violations of these rules, such as addressing a new acquaintance by their first name, could lead to widespread gossip and the assumption that a marriage proposal was imminent.

A Gaze Across the Ballroom

Public gatherings, such as grand balls and evenings at newly fashionable pleasure gardens, provided the primary stage for the marriage market. Yet even in these bustling settings, direct communication was constrained. An official introduction by a mutual acquaintance was a prerequisite for conversation. Following this, the interaction was a performance of polite manners and civilised behaviour. Conduct manuals of the time advised young women to listen more than they spoke, granting their full attention to a potential partner as a sign of good breeding. A simple smile or a curtsy might be the only initial acknowledgement, as even a handshake was considered a significant step toward intimacy.

The Fan’s Thousand Words

Within these strict confines, women wielded a powerful, silent tool: the fan. The "language of fans" became a playful, yet functional, method of conveying messages across a noisy room. Designer Charles Francis Bandini even created a "Conversation Fan" in 1797, which printed a coded alphabet onto the fan itself, allowing for complex messages to be spelled out through specific hand positions. Drawing a fan across one’s forehead could signal that prying eyes were watching, while carrying it in the left hand might express a desire to make someone’s acquaintance. This silent dialogue allowed for a degree of flirtatious agency in a world that severely limited female expression.

Gifts That Spoke of the Future

As a courtship progressed, the exchange of gifts became a crucial way to demonstrate affection and suitability. Men typically offered a range of presents, from specially mixed perfumes to books with personally meaningful passages underlined. This was a method to test intellectual and emotional compatibility. A gift of a miniature portrait was a significant gesture, a tangible representation of the suitor’s devotion. Women’s gifts, though less frequent, were often handmade items like embroidered handkerchiefs or waistcoats. These presents showcased domestic skill and the time invested in the suitor, making a powerful statement about their potential as a wife.

The Ultimate Tokens of Affection

Two gifts held the most profound symbolic weight in Regency courtship: a lock of hair and a ring. Exchanging locks of hair was a deeply intimate gesture, offering a physical piece of oneself to a beloved. This token would outlast the owner’s life, serving as a permanent memento of their connection. A ring, of course, was the ultimate symbol, representing a clear intention to marry. These exchanges marked the transition from a tentative courtship to a more formal understanding, moving the relationship from the public ballroom into the realm of private commitment.

Floriography: A Victorian Dialogue

The Victorian era, known for its strict social etiquette, cultivated an elaborate and beautiful form of secret communication known as floriography, or the language of flowers. This practice, popularised in Britain after its origins in Persia, allowed individuals to convey complex emotions and intentions without uttering a word. Feelings that were considered improper to express openly could be communicated through a carefully chosen bouquet. The act of giving flowers became a nuanced art form, with every detail, from the type of bloom to the hand used to present it, carrying a specific meaning. This silent language permeated Victorian art, literature, and daily life.

Speaking in Petals and Stems

Floriography dictionaries became popular, assigning meanings to hundreds of different plants and flowers. A red rose famously signified passionate love, while a white lily represented purity. Daffodils could suggest unrequited love, and violets conveyed faithfulness and modesty. Even the way a bouquet was handled held meaning. Small, tightly bound bouquets called tussie-mussies or nosegays were popular gifts. If a woman received one from a suitor and held it to her heart, it signalled acceptance and happiness. Pointing it towards the ground, however, was a clear sign of rejection, a silent and public refusal.

A Garden of Secret Messages

The language of flowers extended beyond simple courtship. Forget-me-nots might be sent to a loved one who was moving away, while periwinkle could symbolise a blossoming friendship. The mimosa flower, whose leaves close when touched, became a symbol of chastity. This coded language was a response to a society that restricted open emotional expression. It provided a safe and socially acceptable outlet for a range of sentiments, from flirtatious interest to deep-seated grief. While the specific meanings have largely faded from common knowledge, the symbolic power of flowers in expressing emotion remains a strong cultural legacy.

The Birth of Photographic Social Media

The Victorian era also witnessed a technological revolution that changed courtship forever: the invention of the carte de visite. Patented in Paris in 1854, this was a small photograph, about the size of a visiting card, pasted onto a stiff cardboard backing. Suddenly, personal portraits were no longer the exclusive domain of the wealthy. The affordability and portability of cartes de visite made them accessible to the middle and even working classes, sparking a phenomenon dubbed "Cardomania." These cards became the 19th-century equivalent of a social media profile, exchanged among friends, family, and potential lovers.

Image Credit - BBC

Crafting a Staged Identity

Much like a modern dating profile, the carte de visite offered a chance to present a carefully constructed image to the world. People would dress in their Sunday best and pose in photographic studios with props that suggested their status, profession, or personality. A man might be pictured with books to imply he was well-read, while a woman could be posed near a sculpture to suggest artistic sensibilities. These images were a deliberate statement about social mobility and personal identity, allowing individuals to project an idealised version of themselves in their quest for a suitable match.

A Viral Sensation in Sepia

The exchange of cartes de visite became a national obsession. People collected them in specially designed albums, which became a common feature in Victorian drawing rooms. It was a way to display one's social network. Looking through an album, a visitor could guess at the relationships implied by the collection of faces. People even placed matrimonial advertisements in newspapers requesting an exchange of cartes, using the photograph as a first point of contact. This ability to mass-produce and distribute personal images allowed a portrait to "go viral," making it a powerful new tool in the game of love.

Scandal and Sincerity in Print

Alongside the exchange of photographs, another form of romantic communication gained traction in the 19th century: the matrimonial advertisement. Appearing in newspapers and speciality publications like the Matrimonial News, these adverts were the Victorian equivalent of a dating app profile, minus the picture. People of all social classes, from noblemen seeking an heiress to lonely spinsters seeking a "high principled Christian gentleman," used the printed word to find a partner. These ads allowed for a directness that was absent from formal courtship rituals, stating age, income, and desired qualities in a spouse.

The Perils of Anonymous Romance

This new method of finding love was not without its dangers. While many successful matches were made through advertisements, the system was also ripe for deception. Fraudsters and thieves used the anonymity of the press to prey on the hopeful. The most infamous case was the "Red Barn Murder" of 1827, where a man named William Corder placed a matrimonial ad, married a respondent, and was later discovered to have murdered his previous lover. Such sensational stories served as a cautionary tale, highlighting the risks of seeking connection with a complete stranger through an impersonal medium.

Image Credit - BBC

Berlin's High-Tech Flirtations

By the 1920s, the rigid social etiquette of the Victorian era had given way to a more liberal and hedonistic atmosphere, particularly in the bustling metropolis of Berlin. During the Weimar Republic, the city became famous for its vibrant and decadent nightlife, with hundreds of nightclubs and cabarets. In this new environment, technology once again played a key role in the art of flirtation. Two clubs in particular, the Femina and the Residenz-Casino (known as the Resi), introduced a novel way for patrons to communicate: table-side telephones and a pneumatic tube system.

A Message in a Canister

The Resi, a vast club that could hold 1,000 people, was equipped with an elaborate network of brass tubes that connected every table. Patrons could write a note to an attractive stranger across the room, place it in a metal canister, and have it whisked away to its destination via vacuum pressure. This system allowed for a thrilling, semi-anonymous form of communication. To prevent improper advances, female "censors" in a central switchboard would read the messages before sending them on, an early form of content moderation. It was a technologically advanced version of passing a note in class.

Gifts Through the Wire

The pneumatic tube system at the Resi was not just for messages. The club offered a menu of small gifts that could be ordered and sent to a desired recipient. These ranged from trinkets like cigar cutters and bottles of perfume to, according to some sources, cocaine. This "table mail service" added another layer of excitement to the nightclub experience. One could watch from afar as their gift arrived, gauging the recipient's reaction in real-time. The system represented a playful fusion of technology and romance, a precursor to the instant gratification of a "like" or a "match" on a modern app.

Polari: A Secret Language of Survival

For LGBTQ+ communities throughout history, secret languages and symbols were not a game; they were a vital tool for survival. With same-sex relationships criminalised and heavily stigmatised, coded communication allowed people to identify one another, find partners, and build community while avoiding persecution. One of the most significant of these was Polari, a form of cant slang used predominantly by gay men in Britain in the 19th and 20th centuries. Its vocabulary was a vibrant mix of Italian, Romani, Yiddish, and London slang.

The Words That Built a World

Polari allowed men to speak openly about their lives and relationships in public without fear of being understood by outsiders. Words like "bona" (good), "lallies" (legs), and "naff" (tacky or bad) became part of a shared lexicon that fostered a sense of identity and solidarity. The language was passed down orally, particularly among performers, sailors, and other marginalised groups. Though its use declined after the decriminalisation of homosexuality in 1967, Polari remains an important part of LGBTQ+ history, a testament to the resilience and creativity of a community under pressure.

The Code of the Handkerchief

Another powerful system of non-verbal communication that emerged from LGBTQ+ culture is the "hanky code." Originating in the gay leather and BDSM communities of the 1970s, this code used coloured handkerchiefs, worn in a back pocket, to signal specific sexual interests and preferred roles. The colour of the hanky denoted a particular fetish, while the pocket it was worn in (left for "top" or dominant, right for "bottom" or submissive) indicated the wearer's role. This system allowed for clear and discreet communication of desires in a time before the internet made finding niche communities easier.

Image Credit - BBC

The Rainbow and Beyond

The hanky code is just one example of the rich visual symbolism within LGBTQ+ culture. Before the now-ubiquitous rainbow flag was designed in 1978, other symbols were used for identification. In the 1890s, writer Oscar Wilde popularised the green carnation as a subtle sign among gay men. Violets and the colour lavender have long been associated with lesbian and bisexual women. In later years, the community reclaimed the pink triangle, a symbol used by the Nazis to identify homosexual men in concentration camps, transforming it from a badge of shame into a symbol of defiance and resilience.

The Digital Body Language of Today

Today, the search for love has moved decisively online. However, the need for non-verbal cues has not disappeared; it has simply evolved. Modern daters now have to interpret "Digital Body Language" (DBL), a term that encompasses the subtext of online interactions. Emojis, punctuation choices, message length, and response times have all become new signals to be decoded. A majority of daters report that a match's DBL reveals a great deal about their communication style and intentions, for better or worse. This shows that even in a world of text, we are still searching for those unspoken clues.

Gen Z and the Dating App Dilemma

Generation Z, the first cohort to grow up entirely in the digital age, has a complicated relationship with dating apps. While many use them, a significant number report feeling frustrated and fatigued by the seemingly endless swiping. Many express a desire for more "old-fashioned" and authentic ways of meeting people, leading to a rise in the popularity of in-person singles events. The fear of rejection remains a major hurdle, with many young daters admitting they hold back from expressing their true feelings for fear of appearing "cringe" or overeager.

The Enduring Quest for Connection

From a carefully placed fan to a thoughtfully worded text message, the history of dating is a story of human ingenuity in the service of connection. The tools and technologies change, but the fundamental challenges remain the same: how to signal interest, how to gauge compatibility, and how to navigate the delicate dance of vulnerability and self-protection. Whether in a Regency ballroom or on a digital platform, people continue to develop and decode unspoken languages in their timeless quest to find partnership and to feel understood. The methods may evolve, but the search for love is a constant.