Do you ever wonder what guys have said about you without your knowledge? Does your boyfriend complain to his friends about your weird habits, or does your ex tell all his friends all your dirty little secrets? Do you ever wonder if there are guys out there who have crushes on you, who’d never dare to tell you in real life? And how your guy friends talk you up to potential dates?
Oh, to be a fly on the wall. Well—it’d be tempting if you could guarantee it’d all be “good” stuff, of course, but to be quite honest, it’s a bit soul-crushing to hear negative comments about yourself. Hearing of rumors, bitchiness and shit-talking about yourself isn’t nice for any of us. Like that metaphorical fly alter-ego is being unceremoniously squashed, left to die a pathetic and tragic metaphorical death. We’re human, after all. There are few people so thick-skinned that no criticism can phase them.
Welp, ladies, I have some good news for you: You’re not about to be faced with a barrage of criticism from the significant others in your life. We’re not about to become metaphorical flies. But the same isn’t true for the men in your life. Let me introduce LuLu—a social platform to rate and review the guys you know, without them ever having to know about it. Good news for us, bad news for boys. Tut tut, what a shame… amirite?
LuLu is an app for women. But, like, just for women: It can background check your Facebook account to make sure you “for real” have two X chromosomes. Apparently it’s very difficult for a guy to make a false Facebook account under a girly guise that the app will accept (I’d love to find out how, but I don’t speak tech good). Once you sign up, you will find an online mecca for Facebook stalkery—a virtual boy-burn-book. You’ll be asked a series of questions about a guy—pertaining to his looks, humor, commitment, sexual prowess, etc—and then you can check off a series of characteristics (such as ‘#CaptainFun’ and ‘#PantyDropper’). The result is a rating out of ten, which is logged as an anonymous review. Oh, and you also have to say how you know the guy, for example, if he was an ex, a crush, a hook-up, a friend.
I was introduced to the app by a guy-pal of mine one evening, as we sat down with his (male) roommates. The poor, simple lads were perplexed. Of course, being the clan matriarch, I was curtailed (quite easily) into downloading the app so I could act as the fountain of female knowledge. And it was very easy to download and join up. I just logged in via Facebook and voila—all my male friends’ profile pictures innocently gazed up at me, waiting to be rated or humiliated. The power was mine. I probably chuckled with glee.
My first order of business, of course, was to check my boyfriend’s profile. Thus far he’d been rated an 8.7 by a girl who called him a ‘crush’, hashtagging him #PerfectionSquared and #KissableLips, amongst others. My initial reaction? I was enraged. Who was this girl and how could I find her? Of course, there’s no way to tell who is responsible for each review, so I will never know. But, while I’m aware that my boyfriend is a bit of a catch and, naturally, I suppose there are women out there who crush on him a bit, I found it most unsettling to see it right there in front of me. Surely I can’t be the only one to think this—if I am, well … sorrynotsorry for sounding like a control freak.
I moved on to my guy friends and past hook-ups. The reviews were mixed. One guy I know—a recent acquaintance who, as far as I’m concerned, is a great guy with a lovely girlfriend—seemed by all accounts to be a sleazeball. What the app didn’t take into account was when each hook-up took place. Was my friend really worth sleazeball status? Had he secretly been cheating on his GF or was he just a bit of a playa back in his single days? No one can tell. But LuLu certainly held it against him, regardless of how innocent his hook-ups may or may not have been. If he were single and a potential ladyfriend came across his profile, it could have had a detrimental effect on his burgeoning relationship even if he’d been so into her that the leopard was determined to change his spots. It can happen, you know.
But anyway. After a bit of stalking and a few cheeky reviews of my own, I browsed around a bit and found LuLu’s hidden gem: the “Dear Dude” section. This is like your typical advice column, but uncensored. Girls can submit questions about anything: blow job technique, cheating boyfriends, kinky sex, penis length… the list goes on. The questions are answered by an anonymous ‘dude’, whose answers are—for the most part—completely spot-on. He’s witty and straightforward without being a dick; an agony uncle who’s totally unfraid to discuss all the nitty-gritty about sex and relationships. His advice is pretty much perfect. In response to a body image question, his “you have to appreciate your own body” advice was so on point that I could have wept in shock to think that, deep down, guys are pretty sweet—and, more often than not, they don’t get what all the fuss is about with us women. They kind of love us, actually.
Another great little feature is the poll section at the end of each “Dear Dude” Q&A. Questions pertaining to the question in question (ahem) are put to the crowd and the answers are … quite interesting. It’s nice to know that you’re not alone in feeling embarrassed about certain sexual positions, just as it’s kinda amusing to find you’re the black sheep elsewhere. The questions are blunt but entirely relevant—the kind of thing you might even be a tidbit embarrassed about talking to your friends about. No one’s judging you for your opinions here.
But like all guilty pleasures—fast food, alcohol, pop music—there’s something very wrong with LuLu underneath the entertainment factor. Sure, we ladies aren’t being judged for our opinions—but it’s a different story for the boys.
Let’s suppose a similar app was published for men to rate and review women. There would be uproar. Wouldn’t you feel uncomfortable, knowing that there was a forum for people to call out your insecurities and slap a nice round figure on your attractiveness? We millenials have grown up surrounded by negative influences on our self-image—but this goes one step further, literally having one’s personal worth evaluated with a numerical stamp. Sure, the allure of being that fly on the wall is tempting but, let’s be honest, when it comes down to it, we’d all rather not know. Much as it shouldn’t matter, scoring a pitiful 5 and accruing some pretty harsh hashtags has got to sting. And at the end of the day, LuLu does exactly this. Just because it targets men doesn’t make it any more acceptable, surely?
Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like LuLu has really taken off in my friendship circles. My poor, eager men-friends didn’t find any scathing remarks for other potential partners to be disheartened by. But the potential for LuLu to cause some serious damage to their reputations and their self-image is real and present.
I’m a feminist through and through, but I love the men in my life dearly. To think that they might find out a past hook-up made a nasty comment about their bedroom performance or their personal hygiene … well, it kinda breaks my heart a bit. Because I know it would upset them. Men are still human, after all. They still feel feels.
Conclu(lu)sion? Ultimately, this app just left a bad taste in my mouth. Cosmo claims it’s like “Sex and the City marries Facebook.” Personally, I’d be inclined to suggest that this bite-sized review fails to account for the fact that this app encapsulates much of what is wrong with the internet: The potential to tarnish reputations, destroy self-image and slap one-dimensional labels on other people. Men might be mysterious, they might be simple and sometimes they might be downright tools—but I still don’t think we can justify using a single app that distills everything that feminism stands against, just because it’s men in the firing line. Literally, Darling‘s mantra is to “strive outside of hashtags;” I say we let our boys do that, too. Don’t get involved with this lunacy—we’ve got your back, lads.
