A few weeks back, influencer Nivine Jay released a TikTok video about the time she unmatched with Ben Affleck on dating app Raya (the ‘celebrity/illuminati Tinder’), believing it to be a hoax. Clearly not used to rejection, Affleck sent a brief video message via Instagram promising Jay that it really was him and asking why she gave him the flick. It was a response that could be interpreted as either entitled or endearing—not to mention a bit cringe-inducing—but in no way improper and certainly not deserving of being shared with the world.
Soon after, a similar (since deleted) clip of 51-year-old Friends favourite Matthew Perry was released by another influencer, Kate Haralson, in which the pair play 20 questions on FaceTime having matched on the dating app. None of the questions were sexual in nature, but the then 19-year-old said that she felt uncomfortable with the age gap—even though, “for the joke of it”, she’d ticked the box to allow her to be paired with older men. Humiliating Hollywood heavyweights no doubt did wonders for both women’s follower numbers, but not so much for the reputation of the uber-exclusive dating app, that, for obvious reasons, demands absolute discretion.
RAYA RULES
Just like Fight Club, legend has it that the first rule of Raya is that you’re not supposed to talk about Raya. Every member is ‘expected to follow our simple rules of respect, trust, and privacy’, while cuttingly being advised that ‘there are plenty of places across the internet where an expectation of behavioural standards and respect for other users isn’t required’. Security measures include warnings sent out to anyone who takes a screenshot of potential dates, with a two-strike-and-you’re-out policy, or immediate expulsion for gross misconduct à la Haralson (upon the cancellation of Haralson’s Raya membership, she said that she wasn’t really bothered as she “never really used it anymore anyways”).
Brooklyn-based model and artist Ryan, who was accepted onto the app in 2018, tells Bustle that it’s a good way to meet creatives and cool people “that wouldn’t usually be on Tinder”, and that “it makes me feel like a hot bitch, because it’s so exclusive”.
Unlike the famously brutal Tinder swipe (fun fact: Zac Efron was once on Tinder but secured zero dates as everyone, understandably, thought his account was fake), members will only be matched if they both agree, by tapping at a heart icon. Members may text or video chat within the app, but if no one connects, matches expire after 10 days—and there’s a limit to the number of profiles that may be viewed each day.
“The first profile I saw on the dating app Raya was Patrick, 21,” writes journalist Alice Hines of her three weeks on the app, for The Cut. “…Watching the procession of photos felt intimate, like FaceTiming a friend, but also creepy, like hacking into someone’s phone. In fact, it was something in-between. Patrick has a last name even your grandmother who’s never used an app would recognize—his dad’s a movie star.”
(His dad’s Arnold Schwarzenegger.)
Hines continues that she saw everyone from pro athletes to cover models, YouTube stars, fashion designers, chefs “and Moby”. There are, she says, plenty of “non-famous” faces on there too, though they are all faces of people that possess supreme beauty, wealth, Instagram counts, or a combination of the above (the app also links directly with members’ Instagram profiles, which makes Ben Affleck’s message to Nivine Jay a little less stalky).
RAYA RIGMAROLE
Raya was launched in 2015 by Daniel Gendelman as an “online membership-based community for dating, networking and making new friends” and fast became a favourite app not only for single celebs looking for love, but a place to perhaps even land work or an agent. In 2018, Gendelman told the New York Times that the app was used in dozens of countries, boasting a membership that’s around 10,000-strong.
The waiting list sits at ten times that at 100,000.
Needless to say, being accepted to connect with such a ‘creative community’ is no walk in Central Perk. Only eight percent of applicants are approved, with, exceptional circumstances aside, submissions only accepted from folk who have been recommended by someone already in the app—a bit like being vouched for in the mafia, or a country club. The application is then reviewed by algorithms and an ‘anonymous global committee’, with acceptance times stretching from immediately to infinity (you won’t get outright rejected, rather your application status remains frustratingly set to ‘pending’ until, depressingly, presumably beyond your death), likely depending on your fame or status.
Once in, you are encouraged to upload pictures to make a PowerPoint-like slideshow that plays to a song of your choice—though apparently many of the most famous folk on there don’t bother uploading profile pics. The membership costs just 12 bucks a month (with optional add-ons) to mingle (digitally, at least) not only with the likes of Perry and Affleck, but Channing Tatum, whose profile is said to state “yes, I used to be a stripper”; Drew Barrymore, who described her experience on there as “a car wreck” after being stood up by a restaurant owner she had matched with; and John Cusack, who reportedly accidentally added 35 different women he matched with on Raya to the same WhatsApp group chat. Others known to have signed up at some point include Elijah Wood, Sharon Stone, Cara Delevingne, and Harry Styles.
For anyone fortunate enough to welcomed into the world’s most exclusive app, Haralson has some pearls of wisdom, telling Page Six that users should just “be yourself” as celebrities are “just normal people with abnormal careers”. But thanks in part to the indiscretions of the likes of Haralson, rumour has it that Raya’s fast becoming the playground of posing influencers rather than A-listers looking for romance, as New York city writer and model Chloe Mackey concludes, no one’s out “to find love” on the app, it’s all “about getting an ego boost”.
Maybe it’s not that different to Tinder after all.
