This Lesbian Speed Dating Event Actually Made Me Feel… Hope? (Sounds Fake, I Know)

The lesbian dating scene in Sydney is fraught with difficulties. I’m not joining a running club, I’m too old for Birdcage, and apparently lesbians aren’t allowed on Oxford Street anymore. The apps aren’t much better; if I receive another notification on Feeld from unicorn hunters with corny profile names like M/J or CubAndCougar, I’m going to scream. 

As I enter my late twenties, it seems like I can’t go a week without seeing someone I know on social media announcing an engagement, pregnancy, or house purchase. Although I know we’re all on our own life journey, sometimes it’s enough to drive you back to the apps, where you’re inevitably sent on yet another spiral of despair.  So when the Dykadellic organisers pitched their new speed dating event to the Star Observer editor inbox, I can’t say I wasn’t intrigued. 

Charlie Clegg and her partner Torz Rose have been running Dykadellic parties since noticing a gap in the market around the time of the World Cup in 2023 – all that lesbian pride and nowhere to put it! When speed dating saw a sharp increase in popularity last year, it only felt natural to take the leap and begin organising their own events. 

This year, they’ve introduced the Dykadellic Dating WebApp to their events, matching you with the most compatible people at the event – all the best parts of dating apps and in person meetings. 

“We don’t believe that speed dating needs to feel like an awkward series of interviews,” said Clegg. “We want our guests to cast a wide net, and feel good about dating”.

Guests also have the opportunity to return to later events with their preferences carrying over, and receiving only new matches.

“So you’re not going to be matched to the same person that you said no to,” Clegg said. “It really does allow people to beat the odds.”

I took the questionnaire the day before the event, and found it fairly easy and accessible – think Hinge preferences: your preferred age range, if you have children, whether you’re looking for something poly or monogamous, and how serious a relationship you were after. 

Then, the specifics, like your emotional pace, how you like to spend time with a partner, and how you like to communicate. There’s only a handful of questions, but they do help give you a framework of intentionality with the sorts of relationships you’re looking for, and I do genuinely love a date that comes with homework.

All too quickly, the night came.

My walk to the pub was against a backdrop of Megan Thee Stallion and Tove Lo songs, musical affirmations that I was a powerful and desirable being, and I crossed my fingers that the light in the bathroom in the venue would be good enough for me to apply my makeup in.

Writing about the specifics of a speed dating event are difficult – I’ve already monetised my sexuality more than is probably healthy, and I don’t want to betray the trust of the other people who went to the event with me, so no juicy gossip for anyone outside of the Star Observer office. 

Every round, the app would give me a name and direct me to a table number, and when our date was over, we were given the option to connect with them or not. If we both picked the same answer, the app would tell us if we’d matched at the end. 

We were given a chance to chat with each other afterwards, and the app showed us the ten people our preferences were most compatible with, so if there was someone you didn’t have time to sit down with, you could match the face and the name on your phone to the people in front of you.

The preferences seemed to really help. I was mostly matched with people who more closely aligned with what I was looking for, and of the five or so people I picked, three of them picked me back. 

Honestly, I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to get into dating right now, but I would be more willing to give another round of speed dating a go if it were another Dykadellic event like this. The evening flowed well, and the host didn’t make me cringe with ill-fated attempts to create some excitement in the room – the people there were all just really lovely and willing to open themselves up for the next hour. 

I may not have met the love of my life, but I do feel a little more hopeful about my dating prospects.

With any luck, that’ll keep me running until Christmas time when my aunts will inevitably ask me what exciting things are happening for a young, sexy, 27-year-old dyke in the big city, and all I have to tell them about is work.