"I designed it for career-oriented, busy, professional women," Amanda Bradford says as she looks down at a device in her palm.
Until you need to take her to a State dinner and she can't smile her way out of it.
It's easy, too easy, to count the reasons why any woman who wants to "date intelligently," as their tagline goes, would love the app, which—while it rolls out today in San Francisco only—will spring up in major U. Bradford, a former Google employee who holds an MBA from Stanford, snagged on something when she suddenly became single in grad school: She wanted to join Tinder and Ok Cupid, but she didn't want everyone (her professors, her potential future employers, her ex boyfriend's friends) seeing her personal information and that she was "on the prowl." But how could she put herself out there without overexposing herself in the process?
This dilemma sparked one of the key differentiators of The League: By requiring both Linked In and Facebook for signup, The League can keep people's profiles from popping up in front of those in their professional and social networks, if they want: Brilliant, right?
It's great—really great—in spite of what some people might have you think.
In August, the press pounced on The League while it was in development, labeling it "Tinder for elitists," (Huff Po) and painting its target customer as "a narcissist with an over-inflated evaluation of their own worth" (The Daily Dot).