Creativity is more social than we think, author argues The women at the back table of the Bottleneck bar on Granville Street are a cluster of long locks, funky accessories, a mix of tanned and fair, naturally athletic bodies and discreetly dabbed lip gloss.
The conversation about the impossibility of finding man-love in Lotus Land ricochets between raucous laughter and thoughtful reflection until the table goes silent and the subject finally sinks, like a stone thrown in an impossibly dark wishing well.
Same-sex dating in Vancouver has its own set of opportunities and challenges that warrants a whole other article. At 46, Radu is tall and graceful with a sweet smile and a sexy rock-chic style. Not jaded, no hard edges, no obvious baggage. Maybe the chemistry will be there in person.
For a lark one night, she posted a personal ad on Craigslist. The next morning she had dozens of replies. She followed up with email contact. Most of the guys wanted her photo before going further.
Once they saw it, their pictures started coming in. Radu shakes her head. Even before the article ran, women were, well, bitching. They could dress a little better, though. So, why is it so hard to meet someone in Vancouver?
Is it the way the city is spread out and shuts down early, its denizens more likely to rise at dawn to pound up the North Shore mountains on their bikes before work than lie in and roll over for a little good morning sex? Is it our ethnic enclaves that divide us?
Is it seasonal affective disorder, a collective low libido? Derkson is petite, tanned, toned, with a bright smile: They look at you.
Rachel Fox, a year-old writer, says her experiences of meeting men in other cities, like New York, where she used to live, are incredibly different than in Vancouver: I was dating every night. Zooey Deschanel with a healthy scoop of irreverent wench. She also finds it easier to connect outside of Vancouver: Although she works at the Bottleneck and comes in contact with a great number of men, she finds most her age are married.
We have no dating culture here. In Edmonton, Toronto, Calgary there is a much higher chance that people will come out just to meet you for a coffee, just for the social aspect. Sebastien Lessard, 37, who came to Vancouver from Quebec City seven years ago, can attest to the intimidation factor. Throw in the French accent and the wry sense of humour, and Lessard just might be the total package. But he gets frustrated sometimes.
They believe their own conclusions about what a good guy is and what non-relationship material is; some weird criteria. Generalizations obscure the fact that there are so many people with different interests. He has a dapper geek-chic style: Blaming the city is an easy way of putting the onus on something else.
Sue Seminew, a professional high-end matchmaker in Vancouver, believes there are certain variables here that do add to the challenge. Almost every major dating market has more women than men, and our city is visibly ethnic with a high representation among Asian and South Asian. Compared to Montreal and Toronto, our downtown is small.
We also tend to discount the outlying areas. We were recently ranked the worst-looking city in terms of dress. Both men and women can look like crap, with both parties guilty of judging and misinterpreting.
Women that are open about race are going to be more successful here. Vancouver is not a head-office power centre. Men have been doing that for years. I suggest people look in Burnaby, Whistler, Squamish.
All the boys need some work, but we can impart that. Start talking to strangers, says Seminew. And if they shut you down?