Wristbands for singles

Lately, the question on every unattached person’s mind is: should I be wearing a singles wristband?

The answer is no, don’t be so daft. That’s it. You can go about your business now. Seriously, those tiles won’t grout themselves.

I sense you want more. Okay, here’s the situation: these silicone wristbands are the brainchild of Rina and Rob, a Danish-British couple who met by chance in Lanzarote, fell in love and – evidently alarmed by the idea that they might easily never have found one another – decided to start a business helping singles identify potential soul mates.

Imagine a world where all singles can be recognised by other singles,” demands the My Single Band website. I did imagine it. Then I imagined a world where everyone gets euthanized at the age of thirty and is minced up and turned into soylent green, but perhaps that’s just my peculiarly warped outlook.

It continues: “Our partners are the foundation of our lives, yet we rely heavily on destiny to bring us together” (Speak for yourselves – I rely heavily on tequila and twerking). “Commonly, people will view 20 houses before choosing a new home; yet in comparison go on 10 dates before selecting the person they may spend their life with.

So falling in love should be more like buying a house? Actually, that sounds much more effective than some lame wristband. Erect a sign in your garden, arrange a series of viewings, make everything smell really inviting, don’t, whatever you do, mention your dodgy plumbing, and, if nobody makes an offer, throw in the washer-dryer to sweeten the deal.

And you can have that idea for free, unlike the wristbands, which cost £6 and come in seven colours though, disappointingly, the colours don’t signify anything. Really, they should have made them time-related, like the bands you used to get in the swimming baths as a child. Green for those who dived-bombed in enthusiastically five minutes ago, purple for the people treading water in the shallow end, blue for anyone who’s been in so long their skin’s turned wrinkly, they been flashed at repeatedly and all they really want is a nice cup of hot chocolate.

The aim behind the wristbands is to achieve the directness that is found in online dating but with added real-life chemistry. But surely the main appeal of online dating is that it provides a buffer, allowing a person to chat, make approaches, accept or reject attention whilst minimising the potential humiliation and/or stalkage?

I mean, if you did spot someone in the supermarket wearing a MY Single Band, what’s your first move? ‘Hello. I notice you like courgettes.’ ‘Yes, I do like courgettes.’ ‘Uh…’

Also from a distance the wristbands look like every other band on the market so even if you did muster up the courage to compare your mutual love of the squash family, you’ll probably just be accosting an innocent supporter of Help for Heroes.

So that, lovely people, is why the answer is no. I’m afraid you’ll just have to rely on the old pulling methods: booze and body language. And, if all else fails, remember: it is always possible to recognise a nice cup of hot chocolate when you see one.


Take a peek at my debut novel, The Gods of Love, published on 1 February 2018 and available now for pre-order!