Youngsters, gather 'round for a tale of how your ancestors searched for a mate. These starry-eyed romance-hunters were not so different from yourselves in many ways, except that they were faced with an unconnected world.
For example, communicating over a distance greater than 20 feet required speaking — out loud — into a telephone that was physically attached to a wall by a curly cord. Sharing a photo was an arduous and time-consuming task — taking a picture, developing the film and mailing it via the U.S. Postal Service. Nor were there vast stores of filtered photos and dubious personal info available to right- or left-swipe. No, when it came to finding love, the options were limited to flirting in neon-lit bars or on blind dates.
That is until the world of print provided an astonishing opportunity to advertise oneself to the masses.
The Inlander hopped right on this new expressway to companionship, introducing our upcoming "Lines of Introduction" in the very first issue. "We proudly present this intelligent and inexpensive way to meet new people in the Inland Northwest," said our ad announcing the service (soon renamed "The Personals"). It was all very adorable: a Renaissance-inspired marketplace of people, arrayed under the sweet logo of a cherub and featuring charmingly naive ads, such as this one:
LET'S MAKE SWEET MUSIC
SM, 24 YO, professional songwriter/musician ISO beautiful F who can sing or play an instrument & have fun making some music. Also must love outdoor activities & be serious about life & having fun.
To find out more about this Disney prince of a single male, for the rate of $1.75 a minute, interested parties could leave a voice message for their dream date.
This type of advertising went crazy and became so lucrative that at a convention for alternative newsweeklies in Nashville in 1996, AT&T sponsored a huge red carpet event at the Parthenon for publishers that had all the trappings of an Oscars after-party. And as the personal ads business ballooned, those ads began to get a lot more, well, personal:
HARD-UP AND DESPERATE
SWM, 50, looks older & fatter. Mean, bossy, possibly schizophrenic, hates skiing, hiking, camping, music, long walks. Loves Las Vegas, vodka, intelligence. Call me if you smoke.
We can't help but hope he was able to find October 1997's "Rose Colored Glasses," who would appear to be a possible soulmate:
ROSE COLORED GLASSES
Broke, laughs too loud, doesn't act her age, hates to dress up, won't wear makeup, won't dance, too smart, too strong, too honest, too picky, too weird. Has a kid & way too many animals. Now for the bad news: Thinks you're fantastic.
A somewhat unsettling trend toward perhaps nostalgic, animalistic views of "finding someone" seemed to develop in 1999:
HUNTING SEASON IS HERE
This doe is hunting for her stag for romance, trips, activities, with LTR in mind. DWCP, HWP, 5'2" retired, 62. N/S City raised, now country. Who you're doing things with is the important thing. Multi-faceted — like indoor & outdoor activities.
BEAR IN MIND
OK if you're hairy, husky & muscular — we have a match. I'm HWPWM, 5'9" 210 lbs, blue eyes and what it says above, all at 37yo. ISO same to work out with, ages 30-50.
Then there was this young woman with excellent self-esteem as well as very strong preferences, who might have had trouble finding someone who ticked all her requirements for a "special guy" prior to the advent of the Personal Ads:
BLONDE BOMBSHELL
SWF, 30ish seeks a special guy — no beady-eyed, pot smoking, beer guzzling, skirt chasing, game playing, baggage toting, convicted felon, unemployed, crossdressing, whine bags mama's boys need apply. None of that HWP stuff either — I want real stats. Redheads are not a plus. Must have hair and teeth.
The personal ads also gave people license to explore whether someone they briefly encountered might have developed an interest in them. These ads were congregated in an "I SAW YOU" section:
PETUNIA GODDESS
Have seen you selling roses all summer. You smoke Marbs & wear clogs. Dinner & a movie?
GREAT HAIR
I saw you leaving N.W. Hair Co., gorgeous red hair. Me — white Jag conv. I honked. Great hair. Let's do lunch.
We can only hope she saw the ad and they drove off into the sunset in his white Jag with her red hair aglow. The I SAW YOU section also revealed that, in general, there was no inappropriate time to seek out true love:
LUNG-OLOGIST
Gruff, but with a sparkle underneath that not even a night on-call could extinguish. Short dark hair, glasses, the omnipresent tweed coat. You intubated Grandma, now you're causing me to have respiratory distress.
PAWNSHOP TEDDY BEAR
You: Todd at Shamrock. Me: pawned my wedding ring. Now I'm single; how about you? Unity, respect and faith are great.
Still, there were times we ached with the knowledge that, despite the advent of the personal ads, sometimes making a connection is a long shot:
BANK AMERICA QUEEN
Tall Lady, we both rode from 19 to bottom. You were tall, light brown hair. Both were 40ish. Contact me... Please.
YOU AND I HAVE MET
You are pretty, petite, caring, thirty-something or less, and a non-smoker. You have introduced yourself as Diedre, Alicea, Sonya and Angela, among others. Our paths have crossed many times but the timing was never right. It's right for me now! How about you?
Probably not.
And then there were the happy announcements, perhaps more appropriate to a personal card to be kept in one's dresser drawer, that our readers couldn't seem to help but share with the world:
WE'VE WORKED TOGETHER...
For four years. Now, I love you, and I'm so very glad. I think your girls are great.
We hope they all lived happily ever after!
Now is probably a good time to mention that in the late 1990s, near the end of a busy workday, one of our sales reps answered the phone. It was a guy wondering how these personal ad things worked. She explained the system, and that sometimes they do really help you find someone. If you've watched any Hallmark movies, you know where this was headed: Yes, they got married, and he never had to pay $1.75 per minute.
As online dating sites and apps proliferated in the early 2000s, personal ads faced robust competition. The last time The Personals section appeared in the Inlander was on Dec 28, 2006, when there were just 15 lonely hearts listed, tucked in a small corner of the classified section. They were replaced by Cheers & Jeers/I Saw You, which remains a reader favorite to this day. ♦
Yes, all of the above are actual ads reprinted from old issues of the Inlander.
