The ‘new’ rules for dating
THE goal of the 1990s dating manual, The Rules was to lure a man into marriage. The ‘rules’ included never phoning a man, hanging up first, and never being available for dinner, unless it was a Saturday night, and then only if he had asked you before Wednesday. ‘Insights’ included: “Men like women who are neat and clean ... they make better mothers. Men like women ... who wear sexy clothes. Why not please them? Remember, you’re dressing for men, not other women, so strive to look feminine. Grow your hair long. Wear a short skirt.”
The Rules told women: “Don’t act like a man, even if you are head of your own company. Be feminine. Don’t tell sarcastic jokes ... be quiet and mysterious, act ladylike, cross your legs and smile. Don’t talk so much. Wear sheer black stockings and hike up your skirt. You may feel offended by these suggestions and argue that this will suppress your intelligence ... but men will love it.”
Mysteriously, this book became a bestseller, and spawned spin-offs — The Rules at Work, The Rules for Marriage, etc, which was ironic, because one of its authors, Ellen Fein, divorced her husband in 2001.
Now, Fein and co-author Sherrie Schneider have given us lucky ladies The New Rules, subtitled “dating dos and don’ts for the digital generation”, or how to snare a husband in a world of Facebook, Twitter, email, texting, Skype, BBM, iPhones and online dating. The premise is simple. Women who play hard to get win the prize — the husband, which is what Fein and Schneider believe every heterosexual woman wants. Women who “show too much interest” — or act like regular human beings — don’t.
Their justification for rehashing more rules? “Social technologies have made it almost impossible for women to be elusive and mysterious.” Which, not to labour the point, is how you get a husband. The rules “are for women who get hurt and depressed when a relationship doesn’t work out. They are for women who call their best friends, therapists, or psychics when they don’t know how to get a guy to commit.” (Anyone who would call a psychic about her boyfriend would be in need of psychiatric intervention, not a self-help book).
Anyway, back to basics. Never mind your online profile. Look in the mirror. Are you a ‘rules’ girl? Then you better look the part. Be, and look, like a ‘creature unlike any other’ — or, as the authors abbreviate it, a CUAO, which reads like ‘cow’, but never mind. “If you don’t think you’re amazing, who will? Women … tend to feel like ‘damaged goods’, even if they are pretty and accomplished”. Let’s read those words again, and let their meaning sink in: “Women tend to feel like damaged goods.” Got that? Damaged goods.
To look like a CUOA, the rules are specific. “Long, straight hair below shoulder length … It’s simply the most feminine! ... women with naturally curly hair ... use hair straighteners ... go blonde.” Wear make-up and consider plastic surgery. Get your teeth whitened, get false nails and false eyelashes, wax your face, wear coloured contact lenses. “Wear sexy, trendy clothes, tops that show some cleavage, and a short skirt. Men don’t care for flat shoes … they want you to look feminine in heels. Not slutty — sexy.”
Now that you are bleached, waxed, straightened, glossed, artificially enhanced, and dressed in your sexy-not-slutty uniform, here’s what you do next. Nothing. Rule #3 is “don’t talk to or text a guy first”. Rule #4 is “don’t ask guys out by text, Facebook, instant messenger, or any other way”. “As unfair and non-feminist as it sounds, a woman can do absolutely nothing to start a relationship … men were born to do the asking.” Got that? Men were born — that is, emerged from the vaginas of women — with the right to ask us out. Sit down, dear.
Rule #6 is the snappy “wait at least four hours to answer a guy’s text and a minimum of 30 minutes thereafter”. Here you may need a calculator — if you are 18-22 years old, you can text back within 30-60 minutes, but only if you have kept him waiting the initial four hours on his first text. If you are 23-25, make him wait one to two hours, and if you are 26-30, it’s three hours. For those who are 31 and over, wait three to four hours, although if you are that old and without a husband on the horizon, you may wish to consider voluntary euthanasia.
Wait, there’s more. These text-back times are only for weekdays. “If a guy texts you back after 8pm … wait until the next day.” Remember — texting at night is only for sluts and damaged goods. “These text back times do not apply to weekends, specifically from Friday, 6pm, to Sunday, 6pm; this zone is a ‘blackout period’. You’re unavailable, you’re unreachable, you’re busy, you’re gone.”
‘Busy’ is the pathway that leads to the husband holy grail. You must create the illusion of a life so packed with career, cocktails and fabulousness that you barely realise men exist. Obviously, inside your head you are obsessing about them every, waking second, and devising complicated mathematical strategies to make yourself alluring, but only you know that.
Bolster the illusion with rule #7, which is “always end everything first”. Texts, phone conversations, face to face — be the first to go. There is more maths for the length of dates: a first date, coffee or drinks, should be one to two hours; a second date, dinner, ends after three to four hours; and a third date, dinner and a movie, can be five to six hours. Then, pretend you’re frantically busy and disappear; this will drive him insane with desire and make him want to marry you.
Facebook rules are equally specific. Never friend a guy first; wait 24-48 hours to confirm a friend request; rarely write on a guy’s wall, including liking or tagging; share as little as possible; don’t post unflattering photos; don’t initiate a Facebook chat; de-friend all exes. Alternatively, you could just not be on Facebook, but that would make you a weirdo.
It goes on. Avoid emailing more than super-short messages, avoid talking, so that you create an air of mystery, avoid instant-messaging, and have a locked Twitter account. This entirely defeats the purpose of being on Twitter, but there you are.
In between the nit-picky rules are whoppers of such glaring obviousness that you wonder if the authors are enjoying a private joke at the expense of us, the damaged goods. Don’t choose a college or job or relocate because of a guy; don’t get wasted on dates; don’t buy his love. These basics are lost in a sea of rules about not following him on Twitter, and, my personal favourite, rule #13 — “not talking too much in the first few weeks”. “Guys are used to having their ears chewed off by women. He’ll be pleasantly surprised if you are not a chatterbox.” Sit, smile, hang on his every word. You know, like a blow-up doll.
If it all goes wrong, you can phone your psychic.


