Renegade Women: Meet the Pickup Artists Saying Goodbye to Dating Apps

Page* has subtly nodded towards a tall man who has his back to us and who is talking to his friend. “Okay, that's the goal,” he tells me. “Twelve. Ready?” “UM, sure!” I screech, with absolutely no confidence from him. She walks forward confidently, stops a foot away from the two boys, touches the “target” on the arm and smiles. “Hey, would you mind taking a photo?”

“Oh yes of course!” He's eager to help, moving Page's smartphone around to get the right angle as we pout and pose. “Is that okay? I can take more.” We crowd around the phone and review the shots to decide if any are Insta-worthy. “These are great!” Page says, all charm. “Thank you so much. What's your name?” A conversation ensues, brief but long enough to consider the mission accomplished. We smile giddily at each other as we return to base, in this case, a spot near the entrance to the modern hotel bar where we are currently.

The irony is that Page has no interest in keeping the photo of the two of us. After all, we are practically strangers and taking pictures was purely a tool to strike up a conversation with the men.

I am currently in a “Secret Place” training session designed to help women meet men in real life, or real life as the kids call it. It's a three-hour hands-on training workshop where you go to a busy location (in this case, a bar in central London) and perform exercises designed to encourage members of the opposite sex to make a move.

I didn't know what to expect when I woke up early in the evening after work, stressed, slightly disheveled, and carrying a huge backpack. I wasn't in the best “let's meet some men!” mood, to put it mildly, but dating coach extraordinaire Hayley Quinn quickly puts me at ease.

“The idea is to cultivate an abundance mentality,” he tells me while drinking sparkling water (no alcohol here; a clear mind is the order of the day when training). “Women in particular are often given the impression that there is a shortage of men, but we challenge that notion. There are actually a lot of men out there! Our sessions are about learning techniques that allow them to come to you and begin to examine them to identify which ones meet their standards, and not the other way around.”

What qualifies one to market themselves as an expert dating coach, I wonder? In the case of Quinn, now a married mother living in France, there is a fascinating backstory. It begins with the rise of male-oriented books like The game – dating guides and hook-up manuals that became gospel among single men in the 2000s, many of which she helped ghostwrite. Workshops and conferences were also held around the world teaching the “secret” of how to get the girl (or as many girls as possible) in exchange for a considerable sum. Quinn would be chosen as the token woman to lead a session on “what women want.” But she was struck by the fact that: a) most of the men who came were not weird guys but normal guys who were just looking for advice on how to talk to women; and b) the content that was taught was not useful to them. So she took what she had learned, decided she could do a better job and never looked back.

Quinn's fellow coaches are often former clients who have discovered they have a knack for real-life interactions. This is the case with Chris, my evening guru, who begins by talking about my relationship history and dating goals.

Sitting is enough, though: we head straight to the aforementioned bar, where I'm told to walk into the entrance hall and pause before slowly removing my coat. This, Chris says, ties into one of the three main principles for getting men to approach you: visibility. “You have to be seen,” he says. To this end, I am told to walk around the room, slowly, so that people have a chance to notice me. The problem is that I am used to doing what I call the “London walk”, the sole objective of which is to get from A to B as quickly as possible. I slow down to the point where it feels unnatural, but it's still not enough to satisfy Chris. “Try again,” he says when I return. “But slower.”

After Visibility comes Proximity. “You have to close the space between you and the guy,” Chris tells me. Having to cross a physical distance (from one side of the bar to the other, for example) may be enough to deter someone from approaching. He tells me to use my backpack for the next exercise: I have to go to the bar, find a man to stand next to, and ask him if he minds if I leave my bag. I feel like I'm radiating discomfort as I approach the bar, consciously searching for men. But after I nudge someone and ask my harmless question, and they smile and agree, something clicks in my brain.

I suddenly remember a conversation I had with a single friend just before Christmas. Although we were both lamenting the sad experience of using dating apps, he admitted that he would no longer feel comfortable chatting with someone in real life. “After #MeToo, I'm worried about looking like a creep,” he said sheepishly. “I want to be respectful, but that means never approaching a woman, even if you want to.” I was horrified by this; There's respect, sure, but quitting even when you're getting all the right signals? It seemed like a waste. He had echoes of the now infamous quote from Superman actor Henry Cavill, who said GQ: “I think a woman should be courted and pursued, but maybe I'm old-fashioned in thinking that. It is very difficult to do it if there are certain rules. Because then it's like, 'Well, I don't want to go up and talk to her, because they're going to call me a rapist or something.'”

Cavill was roundly ridiculed for his comments at the time, however, anecdotally, most women I know have noticed a sharp decline in men's approaches in real life. Whether post-pandemic, post-apps or post-#MeToo, people seem to have lost their nerve. “You have to realize that most men are very, very afraid to approach you,” Chris agrees.

The subsequent bag and phone exercise, which Chris refers to as “breadcrumbing,” are simple but effective techniques that give men permission to talk to women if they choose. You have left the door open; You have given the metaphorical gesture that they can enter if they wish.

The only truly excruciating exercise comes in the form of the third principle: eye contact. Any woman worth her salt knows how effective this is (it's the most powerful tool in our seduction arsenal), but Chris takes it a step further and makes me stand alone at the bar to practice. I shouldn't order a drink. I shouldn't look at my phone. I simply have to stand there, making eye contact with the men and holding their gaze beyond the point of comfort. My heart races. I'm really surprised by how much I struggle to be alone and not use my device as a crutch, but as I gradually calm down and catch glances, I start to feel strangely empowered. While the others look at me and then look away, a little embarrassed, I don't back down. You may very well look crazy. Or sexy. Either way, who cares?

As a social animal, I definitely prefer the last part of the workshop, where I meet with Page and the other participants to act as “helping women” for each other. It's no surprise that Page is more professional, though: while I'm only here for the night, the others have been in a month-long “Going Renegade” boot camp for several weeks, consisting of four online master classes and five in-person training sessions. These women have already spent the day meeting men in bookstores, coffee shops, and the Apple Store; Page managed to get a man's number at Harrods and is going on a date with him tonight. I can only bow down to such flirting prowess.

It's horrible to admit, but if I had been pressed to imagine what kind of woman would sign up for this course, I might have said someone who was extremely shy, lacking in self-esteem, or, to put it bluntly, not particularly attractive. On all fronts I have completely missed the mark. The three young professionals out tonight, all in their thirties, are handsome, well-dressed, and excellent company; They're just sick of dating apps. “It had become a lot of work to even get to an appointment,” says Sophie*, who lives in Hertfordshire. “You would end up sending so many messages and you wouldn't even know each other. I'm not interested in any more pen pals!

Meanwhile, Page is a French marketing executive living in Berlin. She's been traveling back and forth between there and the UK for the last month solely to attend the bootcamp, which is a level of commitment that borders on crazy, right? “There is nothing like it in Berlin,” she explains. “It's pretty unique. “My friends think I'm crazy, but I really wanted to get out of my dating routine and try something different.”

And as we review our final report at the end of the evening, that is perhaps my biggest takeaway: I am nothing but impressed by the courage and confidence displayed by these women in stepping out of their comfort zones and embracing the unconventional. Without even knowing it, they inspired me to stop swiping, ignore the discomfort, get out there and try it. So the next time a strange woman asks you to take her photo at a bar, it might be me. And she might be trying to chat with you…

*The names have been changed.