So the world of dating has moved on.  If it’s not daunting enough realising that the person you committed your life to, made vows to, promised your future to, turns out not to be the one for you.  I committed to sickness and health etc, not laziness, aggressive behaviour and mild narcissism.  We can cover the whys and wherefores of how I am in this position as a 42 year old, professional women with 2 young children and an unpleasant ex-husband at a later date.  I think it is important to remove judgement for now so we can view this essay or collection of observations for what they are.

There were a few triggers to get me back on to the dating scene.  Finalising a divorce with a very emotionally charged man who, it seems would still save our marriage even now, well, save probably isn’t the right word.  I assume he would welcome me back only to have the upper hand and control point for me returning with my tail between my legs….In order to get my divorce over the line with as little backlash as possible to all concerned, it seemed the easier path to just stay single until the ink was dry.

But distractions aside, the trigger was of course seeing my ex out with another woman.  Finally, I had the opportunity to move on, what is good for the goose is good for the gander, or what is good for the gander is good for the goose, whichever way you chose to interpret the gender stereotype reversal here.  Tinder and Bumble are the place to be, for dating, particularly during the height of the Covid lockdown period.  So that’s where I decided to start my search.

So let’s get down to it, what can we learn here, what is my story to tell, why are we here today?

I haven’t dated for 15 years, and I was pretty rubbish with guys back then.  Mid 2000 was a strange time, mobile phones only just becoming the norm, social media wasn’t really a thing, life was for the present and living.  Did I have a type then?  I suppose the point here is more around the person I was.  Looking back now, I don’t think I ever dreamed I would become the person I am today.  I had such a lack of self-worth at the time,  crippling shyness, unless with those I knew very well or sufficient alcohol.  So my choices in the male department were limited, incredibly limited. So you can picture the scene here … I didn’t have a type.  The question was, were they interested?

So how do you choose what your type is when you are faced with a myriad of different faces, photos, bios, facts and untruths to wade through.  Do you work through criteria like a shopping list or getting wedding dress made, 4 avocados, chilis, cucumber, milk, eggs, wine; off white, short train, silk, no embroidery…. 6ft 1, brown eyes, professional…

I pondered on this, you’ve got to start somewhere, perhaps its supposed to be as simple as “I like the look of this guy” … but it’s never that simple is it? Particularly when you have data. To narrow the field, my criteria was initially: 37-46, minus >5 years is too much, but I do lack maturity at times so don’t want and old 40 year old.  I look young, I am young spirited, I don’t want people thinking I’m with some fat old Investment duffer just for their money.  Back to the point …. There were certain names of guys that were out and out bin offs, no one under 5ft 8, I shouldn’t be height-ist of all people, however, I have the opportunity to create my Frankenstein here so why not.  No one interested in cycling, for obvious reasons, no pictures with tongues out … find it creepy and immature (don’t laugh at immaturity – I can own that).  No pictures laying in bed, guys trying to look cute and sexy, when it just shows chin sag and up noses … not cute.  No labourers, no offense guys, just can’t be doing with that stereotype.  I’m not going to go near the whole fish thing…. No gym shots, the list grows very easily, too fat, too skinny, too ugly, too old, too far away.  

So as you see.. spoilt as it seems for choice, I became picky and decided I had to ringfence the search. Istumbled upon a criteria I hadn’t encountered before, the mysterious face covered professional.  Not quite like The Son of Man, by Rene Magritte, but for some reason this is the reference it triggered for me … clearly then, we search for Pierce Brosnan in “The Thomas Crown Affair”  then again we need to focus on our focus and come back to the search…

How many of these guys are actually inspired by Magritte? Probably not many, most are driven by the fact that they don’t want their wives or girlfriends to bust them on dating apps.  Perhaps it was the mystery? Perhaps it was the fact that if I had such a profile a profile picture, I’d get the type of interest that isn’t suited to my demographic… let’s face it, a headless six pack gives a slightly different impression than a headless female in underwear shot… again … note to self, perhaps we can explore the gender inequality behind that statement at a later date.

Anyway, it became my experiment.  Unfortunately my underemployed highly functioning mind picked up on an outlet here.  But I still needed to narrowed down the field somewhat.  Maybe it was a protection mechanism, but people told me to have fun with the dating thing, and I got quite caught up in how interesting it could be. 

This may not be the right terminology but it will do for now, I got ever so slightly distracted on the male psyche exhibited on these apps.  I had to narrow my parameters and got quite distracted further, in more ways than one around the headless 6 pack otherwise known as the fit torso shot.

So we need some disclaimers here, identities have been obscured to protect the in some cases not so innocent, in others, make your decisions.  I will aim to remain as impartial as possible.  No headless 6 packs were hurt during the course of this experiment….

Let’s get started then, the Headless 6 packs fall into a few categories: and in some cases cross pollination occurs between more than one category:

The aged photo … ie no longer in possession of 6 pack

Fit but ugly… or unattractive – be kind 

Married (of course)

Professional – identity must be withheld to protect livelihood

Out and out fakes or catfish as we may like to badge them

So how do they do it?

Most will have average generic names, usually 4 letters, sometimes biblical, not always, but usually …

We need to bear in mind here that the first thought is that anything that looks too good to be true, generally is … or on the other hand if it looks like a duck and quacks, or if it looks like shit and smells like shit …. Unfortunately there is an anecdote for every eventuality.  But once these thoughts started dancing around my mind, I was hooked on the investigation.

I will continue my story in due course, I hope your interest has been sparked, I currently have curbed my search, for reasons again that will become apparent, but I have a handful of  insights unveiling the secrets behind the headless 6 pack.  I hope you stick with me to hear more: