I’m single. I find Hinge overwhelming, Raya insufferable on a good day, and as a hopeless romantic raised by Jane Austen and delusion, I am simply not the type to “slide into a cute guy’s DMs.”
I want to drop my glove and be asked to promenade.
I want to be forced to share a twin bed with my fake dial-a-date at a wedding hotel that has mysteriously run out of beds and wake up madly in love.
I want to take off my metaphorical glasses, put on a sparkly dress and have my quarterback-class president-star of the school play-best friend, boy next door, realize that it’s always been me—just as my years of diligent DVD research have promised.
My fingers have grown tired of the “el oh el I also love [insert team, summer destination, or oyster bar here]” dance, and the world has refused me both my slo-mo airport meet cute and my carriage scene grovel—you know *exactly* what I’m talking about—So, what’s a girl to do? Where’s my Colin Bridgerton?
Enter: Supper Clubs.
Supper Clubs are a “grown up” take on the organized fun of pre-teen tennis lessons, pottery camp, and other curated group activities meant to help you “make friends your own age,” (with fewer popsicles, more martinis, and the chance to meet the love of your life). It’s no shock that every time you open Instagram you’re met with another artfully scrawled dinner menu featuring ramps, bucatini, and something or the other crudo topped with something or the other supremmed and finished with a yuzu ponzu.
The growing popularity of Supper Clubs and other curated communities of the same ilk is staggering. Reading Rhythms, a book lovers community started by four of my dear friends began with 10 of us reading on a Brooklyn rooftop less than a year ago and is now hosting six sold out “reading parties” a week across NYC. Journaling Classes, an incredible community started by the warmest soul, Emily Chertow, has gone bicoastal—bringing people together around thoughtfulness, play, and journaling prompts. Atlas Supper Club has hosted events for thousands of travelers across seven countries. Endorphins Run Club has connected 15,000 runners in a dozen cities by spreading positivity and happiness through movement and exercise. Mallory has brought fitness enthusiasts together around judgement-free, healthy training and travel with No More Lonely Runs, and Izzy has done the same with Sad Girl Track Club through raccoons and the challenge that is simply not taking everything so seriously because it’s supposed to be fun. Just yesterday, during Caroline Sacks’ (@caro__beth) Colin and Penelope-debrief Instagram Live, a petition was born for a Bridgerton Book Club (I immediately signed). And every time the pictures from our ever-growing SOIRÉE Supper Club go live, my DMs fill with queries about the next one—strangers and friends alike, desperate for an excuse to play dress up and eat fancy food.
Join the waitlist to find out about our next SOIRÉE Supper Club here and if you’re single 👀, check out the details for our June SOIRÉE x Matchbox event! Come for dinner and leave with a…date!
Moral of the story: people *want* community. We want to gather IRL. We want to endure the possibly awkward introductions and “What do I wear!?” crises for the chance of finding our people, making new friends, meeting potential suitors in the wild, and simply sharing space with one another for a collective purpose. The need for community will never be tapped and the market for these events will never be overly saturated. Host the party and people will come. That’s why all the disposable pictures (or iPhone photos processed through an app that makes them look purposefully worse) are filled—yes, filled—with really hot people. Supper Clubs are the new Club Penguin.
The reasons for this are multi-fold:
Since these dinners take place in private locations with guests who have chosen and paid to be a part of them, social anxiety is at an all time low. People come as they are, ready to enjoy good food and good company. By opting in, you’re showing a willingness to embrace new experiences. This shared mindset creates an atmosphere where people are inherently more open, making it easier to strike up conversations and form genuine connections. Friend makers want to make friends. It’s one of the laws of the universe. So the kind of people who are opting into these sort of soirées are probably of a similar breed.
Evening is famously, when all the best stories of love-falling and adventure take place. Not under the startling light of day nor hidden beneath the illicit cloak of darkness. Dusk.
Evening also means that you’re probably not wearing sweaty gym clothes or the daytime uniform of jeans and white sneakers. Supper clubs are a chance to dress to impress. People want occasions. A chance to feel like you’re part of something special. It taps into our innate desire for excitement and celebration, offering a chance to escape the mundane. Flirting is also always easier when you feel fancy.
In a world where swiping left or right has become the norm, the idea of engaging in an actual activity is refreshing. With Supper Clubs, instead of awkwardly sipping $20 gin and tonics while trying to converse over the din of loud music, you’re actively participating in a shared experience—one that provides a natural way to break the ice and connect organically.
Food and wine are the ultimate social lubricants and provide the perfect segue to suggest getting food or drinks together another time. In less awkward words.
And if you don’t shoot your shot this time (I get it. It’s hard. I never have.) There’s also always next month.
We all pretend we don’t care about the “cool factor,” but the reality is that most of us do. And that’s okay. Despite being for everyone (Hey, we’ve all gotta eat!) Supper Clubs offer an air of exclusivity, sophistication, and being in the “know” that makes it fun to chitter chatter about when asked about your weekend.
