The geography of dating has shifted dramatically over the last decade. Pre-pandemic, romance relied on proximity but then came 2020, shrinking social circles and turning dating apps into primary gateways for connection. Swipes surged, matches multiplied, but, somewhere between video calls and virtual chemistry, something felt missing.
Six years later, as in-person social life rebounds, so does a hunger for tangible interaction. Currently the city is sharing its dating scene with candlelit clichés as well as curated meetups, speed rounds, and community-driven matchmaking. This Valentine’s day, lets take a closer look at these new matchmaking trends.
Curated, Not Creepy
On February 8, while most brands were gearing up for the 14th, En/D.tainment hosted ‘End Valentine’, a matchmaking event that was everything but awkward. “We originally wanted to have 150 people,” says the organiser Inti Muni Anish. But for their first edition, they scaled it down to 40 participants for what he calls “a better curated experience.”
The response however, was overwhelming, with over a thousand applicants. To short list the 40 participants, all the applicants were asked about their partner preferences, age brackets, deal-breakers and the kind of bond they were seeking. They were also asked to rate their own “rizz”, submit pickup lines, and even upload a 30-second introduction video. Anish’s team even interviewed shortlisted participants. “Every participant was peer-reviewed before they walked into the event.”
‘End Valentine’ unfolded in rounds. Firstly, icebreakers with intriguing questions about love were answered by the participants, followed by two-minute speed dating rotations, and then a social media-inspired ‘Pop the Balloon’ elimination. It works this way: five participants are chosen by one as potential prospects. They are then handed over a balloon each and are free to ask questions to the individual who shortlisted them. If their answers don’t satisfy, they are free to pop the balloon and walk away or continue to pursue their connection. Following this, a blindfolded buzzer round was held to test participants’ chemistry without visual cues. If satisfied with their match, they can hit the buzzer and proceed to the next round together — a truth or dare session. At the end a ‘lover’s jam’, a musical sing-along, was held.
Anish insists the structure wasn’t about urgency. It focused on authenticity. “If we just wanted to help single people network, we would’ve done it on February 14. We wanted people to have a date by V-day,” he clarifies.
The final set of 40, aged 18 to 24, who were ready to find their matches, walked in with mixed intentions: some serious, many curious. Among them was 20-year-old Ramakrishnan RD. He admits he entered with “low, boring expectations” but left impressed. “I personally prefer meeting people in real life, it brings a real connection which you can’t get on social platforms,” he says.
The act of wingperson-ing
If En/D’s model is structured and curated, The Sunshine House’s format is theatrical, chaotic, and unexpectedly wholesome. Their concept, cheekily titled ‘Pitch Your B*tch’ — hosted last year — grew organically out of their monthly queer open mic, ‘Affections’.
Tired of hearing community members complain about being single, founder John proposed a solution: bring your friend, make a PowerPoint Presentation about them, and pitch them like a “product”. But first, “You must twirl them around and then start your presentation,” Purple laughs. The result? Three-hour showcases of awkwardness, validation, and community bonding. Some presentations were elaborate, including one that looked like a retro Gameboy game, while another was so hilariously messy that organisers and participants commented, “If they’re still single after this, it’s your [the presenter’s] fault.” Beyond the humour, safety was a priority. Instead of direct exchanges, interested parties connected through the wingperson or a shared WhatsApp group.
For 32-year-old Sruthakeerthi, who attended twice, the event was a refreshing antidote to app fatigue. “Dating app burnout is very real,” she says. “If you just have ‘she/her’ in your bio, that’s enough to get a barrage of matches. Reading through all that clutter is overwhelming.” Not all models, however, get her approval. She critiques events that offer free entry for women but charge men. “If men are the ones paying, organisers may try to keep them satisfied that violates the purpose,” she says, appreciating the equity she felt at Sunshine House’s event.
Observing the sudden surge in curated offline experiences, Anish says, “There’s social pressure to get a partner, especially during Valentine’s week.” For Sruthakeerthi, the offline format cuts out the “white noise” of apps. “In real life, you don’t get to choose from a thousand people. Dating apps are not the norm. IRL (In real life) matchmaking is.”
Meanwhile, experiential event company Social Sailors sees Chennai warming up slowly but surely. Similar to Pitch Your B*tch, Social Sailors have recently started hosting ‘Pitch-a-Friend’, but minus the presentation. “We don’t promise a date. We just provide the experience. The whole intention is to have a conversation-based experience,” says Shashank Kulkarni, general manager.
While organisers around the city are adapting and organising LGBTQIA+-friendly events, En/D and The Sunshine House have executed it in the matchmaking arena as well. Anish adds that the event was queer-inclusive, with three queer pairings and that the inclusivity was part of the screening process itself. For The Sunshine House, the idea itself was born out of noticing that queer people needed a platform for matchmaking.
If the pandemic normalised swiping, 2026 seems to be nudging singles back into rooms, filled with eye contact and laughter.