The Regal Rules for Girls (38 page)
- Laugh at yourself. Don’t take yourself too seriously. There is nothing that puts British men at ease more than irony, self-deprecation, and humor.
- Smile a lot and ask him questions that aren’t too intrusive. (Don’t forget that most Brits are reserved, intensely private creatures and will recoil at any attempt to make them talk about their feelings.)
- Unless you are waxing lyrical about (a) the monarchy or (b) your dog—try to avoid overly emotional subjects of any kind. (Your views on foxhunting and astrology should also wait till at least the third or fourth date.)
- Avoid sounding like you’re interviewing him for a job—least of all a job called “husband.” Asking him about his favorite cities in the world is great; asking questions about his net worth or if he wants kids? Not so great.
- Even if his accent is making you go weak at the knees (and let’s be honest, it probably is) try to control yourself. Don’t ask him to say certain words just so you can listen to his voice (English guys eventually find this rather tiresome)—instead try to concentrate on what he’s actually saying.
- After dessert, strategically time your visit to the ladies’ room so you are not at the table when the bill arrives. This will allow him to pay without any awkwardness. When you return to the table, thank him graciously and reiterate how much you enjoyed the meal. (British men often tell me that
American women are so much more appreciative than English girls, and they love that about us.) - If a trip to the loo is not possible, and the bill is placed between you, stay calm. (If you start acting awkward, he’ll act even more awkward.) But the same rule remains: If he invited you out, he pays. Don’t overthink it.
3 - I don’t care if you’re a modern woman who earns twice as much as he does; splitting the bill is the universal sign of disinterest, and subconsciously, guys find it emasculating. So only offer to go Dutch if you’ve decided you never want to see him again.
- After dinner you will probably meet up with his friends for more drinking, or he will suggest it’s time to be getting home. Don’t be offended by either—you’ll still get a kiss at the end of the night. If he invites you to his flat for “a coffee,” it’s more than a coffee that’s on offer.
- Most Englishmen are either deathly afraid of a monogamous relationship (see number
3
) or they literally can’t make it through their day-to-day life unless they are in what they
think
is a monogamous relationship (see
number 4
). Because American-style dating falls somewhere in between and his English brain can’t compute it, he will make up his mind one way or the other and he will do so quite quickly. So quickly it can seem (a) disingenuous or (b) brutal—depending on which option he chooses. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve
gone out with a British guy
twice
and after the second encounter was (a) assumed by his friends and family to be his new and permanent girlfriend and invited to weddings, family vacations, and Christmas, or (b) he seemingly dropped off the face of the earth, and I never heard from him ever again. (See “Alien Abduction,”
page 217
.) Both situations are baffling, but that’s just how it seems to work. - Englishmen are good kissers, and contrary to popular belief, they are good at other things as well.
- I know plenty of American girls who have married British boys. They don’t all have titles or live in castles, but I want you to know that it
does
happen. Despite all the legal, linguistic, cultural, geographical, and psychosomatic obstacles—occasionally love prevails.
A curious background surely for a kiss Our first—Westminster Bridge at break of day—Settings by Wordsworth, as John used to say.
—
FROM
T
HE
W
HITE
C
LIFFS
BY
A
LICE
D
UER
M
ILLER
5 LONDON KISSES AMERICAN GIRLS MUST EXPERIENCE BEFORE THEY DIE:
- In the back of a black cab
- On a moving escalator beneath a tube station (Holborn is the longest—but
please
stand on the
right
!) - Walking along the South Bank
- On the back of a Trafalgar Square lion in the moonlight
- Westminster Bridge at dawn
The Englishmen’s desire to cling to technology while dating can be infuriating. There were several times when I genuinely felt as if my entire relationship was limited to the words that fit onto a one-inch-by-one-inch screen, and occasionally I was forced to ask myself how long I could be sustained on fewer than five abbreviated sentences per week (which for some nonverbal British males is more than enough communication for the month). So my advice to you is this: Texting is fine, as long as you have face time to go with it.
RULES FOR TEXTING:
In an age of iPhones, BlackBerrys, and predictive text, there is no excuse for lazy abbreviations and tacky acronyms. No matter what the medium, always use the Queen’s English.
Certain social circles believe that abbreviation of any kind implies that you are busy—and this is the worst possible label to incur, as it also implies that you are not a gentleman or lady of leisure. Unlike the working classes, true ladies who lunch have time to spell out every word of their text messages.
Signing your texts with your name or initial plus an x is quite normal. (For example, I often sign off “Jx”). The x implies an affectionate, sometimes flirtatious, sometimes loving kiss—and should only be used when you want to show affection, flirtation, or love to the recipient. Men only use x’s when messaging their mothers, girlfriends, or potential girlfriends. Women use x’s when messaging absolutely everyone except strangers, female coworkers they don’t particularly like, or male coworkers they have no desire to flirt with. (The same x etiquette applies to email correspondence.)
The American girl has the advantage of her English sister in that she possesses all that the other lacks.
—
FROM
T
ITLED
A
MERICANS
, 1890
Online Dating
Transatlantic matches were such the rage during the Gilded Age that American girls were known to consult a quarterly publication
called
Titled Americans
. This magazine contained a register of all the eligible, titled British bachelors on the market, with a handy description listing their age, accomplishments, and prospects. The journal described itself as a “carefully composed list of peers who are eager to lay their coronets and their hearts at the feet of the all-conquering American girl.” But basically it was the nineteenth-century version of
Match.com
.
As you know, the taboo on meeting someone over the Internet has completely disappeared for our generation, and this applies to both sides of the Atlantic. Sparks may not fly with every encounter, but with London social barriers being what they are, don’t turn your nose up to a technology that might, at the very least, lead you to some new English friends (who in turn might introduce you to someone with whom sparks
will
fly!). So I wholeheartedly urge you to give it a try.
Unfortunately
Titled Americans
is no longer in existence. Nevertheless, I encourage you to check out
www.datebritishguys.com
. They claim to provide love-hungry American women with single British men who live in the UK (and the US). Believe me, if this genius of a site had been around when I was single, I would have logged on in a heartbeat.
Old standbys like
Match.com
and DatingDirect are also widely used by guys in London, so don’t be afraid to widen your net and post your profile on more than one site. If your politics are left-leaning, try Guardian Soulmates; if you tend to be more conservative, try Telegraph Dating (though the latter tends to attract an older crowd).
When I first ventured into the heady world of online dating, I saw no point in trawling through hundreds of undesirables, so as I composed my profile, I was certain to be specific about what I was looking for. After a handful of drafts, I settled on this:
Blonde American bookworm/partygirl seeks privately educated Englishman (aged 25–30) with James Bond accent and Oscar Wilde wit. Must enjoy black-tie galas, debaucherous dinner parties, intellectual debates, and long walks in the country. An appreciation for fine wine, classic literature, and nonstop adventure goes without saying. Aristocratic lineage and Hugh Grant looks highly encouraged. No others need apply.
Once it was posted, I sat back and waited for the flirty fun to begin. Eventually I began corresponding with an Oxford graduate named Sebastian who listed art history, French literature, and fencing as his hobbies and claimed to be the CEO of his own company as well as writing a novel in his spare time. We exchanged pictures (he was preppy and cute with classic aquiline features) and agreed to meet for a drink the following week. When he suggested my favorite London bar, I got goose bumps, and it wasn’t long before I became a nervous wreck. I mean, this guy seemed
amazing
. What if I wasn’t good enough for him? What if I wasn’t pretty enough? What if I wasn’t smart enough?
I went to the bookstore and bought the cheater’s guides to French literature and art history. I also read everything I could get my hands on about fencing. During the next few days, I ignored my work entirely and spent hours composing note-perfect paragraphs in response to Sebastian’s seductively cerebral emails.
My heart raced wildly with every email exchange, and my stomach filled with endless butterflies at the thought of our pending date. But as I walked into the dimly lit bar situated ten storeys above the sparkling lights of the River Thames, I knew—within seconds—that I shouldn’t have bothered.
There was zero chemistry between us. Not a spark of physical attraction. Not even enough basic compatibility to sustain thirty minutes of small talk. Although our email discussions had flown off the keyboard at lightning speed, we struggled to make a simple face-to-face conversation last as long as a single glass of wine.
