Ditching the digital drag, a new London event blends playfulness with purpose, showing singles that offline romance might just be worth the risk.
An unexpected question about childhood chickens kicks off the night. Someone else wants to know if I’ve ever broken a collarbone. Across the room, a woman parades with her phone aloft, screen blazing: “DID YOU CYCLE TO BURNING MAN ON LSD?” It’s chaotic. It’s bizarre. But it’s not a dream — it’s Haystack Dating’s latest event in Hackney.
Born from entrepreneur Lucy Rout’s desire to revive joy in romance, Haystack takes aim at the monotony of dating apps. “It’s become a chore,” she says, lamenting how what once thrilled now feels like a grim obligation.
This is the third and largest Haystack gathering so far. I enter expecting small talk in a dim bar — instead, I find myself among 350 guests, all seeking the same thing: authentic connection. The venue is Night Tales in Hackney, and it’s buzzing with nervous anticipation and curiosity.
Part structured, part serendipitous, Haystack works by asking attendees to share unusual facts about themselves in advance. Using this data, the platform assigns each person a “match,” whose fact they then have to uncover among the crowd — a sort of romantic scavenger hunt.
From the start, I click with Mairi, a fellow London newcomer. We realise we’ve both recently left long relationships and are figuring out how to begin again. Our conversations — as with many that evening — blend shared experiences with quirky overlaps. Someone mentions clown school. I’ve got “CLOWN” tattooed on my arm. Another attendee is from Frankfurt; my mother was born there.
The one thread tying everyone together? Exhaustion with apps. “I can’t read another Hinge profile about Sunday roasts,” sighs Jess, a young mum. Others voice frustration at the flatness of digital flirtation. Demi, who still uses the apps, prefers the stakes of face-to-face events. “Online rejection is too quiet,” he says. “This feels more real.”
In fact, Eventbrite reports a 42% rise in singles events since 2022. IRL dating is becoming mainstream again. From Thursday’s global meetups to themed gatherings like literary mingles and even naked speed dating, people are opting for tactile, lived experiences. Even comedians are joining the matchmaking game, setting strangers up live on stage.
Why? Because while dating apps offer convenience, they dull the sting — and thrill — of rejection. No loud buzzer signals that someone’s swiped left. No moment of embarrassment. But also, no electricity of eye contact across a room. Apps skip the chemistry test. Real life, though? It’s full of it.
Haystack nails the balance. The quirky fact-matching offers a launchpad for meaningful exchanges. Although I never find my assigned match, my mild indignation becomes its own talking point. No awkward work-chat fallback, no forced flirting. Just… people, talking.
It’s also revealing. Dating doesn’t have to be painful admin — it can be play. I realise how much fun it is just to talk, with no profile to polish, no algorithm to impress. Even though the crowd skews more female (tickets are sold two-to-one), the vibe is inclusive, and everyone is genuinely trying.
Eventually, I leave the event buzzing with energy, almost oblivious to the handsome man on my Tube carriage. Almost. I scribble my number, twice — nervous sweat messing up the sevens — but lose my nerve when someone walks between us. Classic romcom timing.
Still, the fact that I even considered it is thanks to Haystack. These offline spaces might not guarantee love, but they offer something deeper: presence. Something real happened. I tried. I was seen. That’s more than the apps can usually say.
So maybe next time, I’ll be brave enough to hand the number over.
