COSMOPOLITAN ·^83read
400% between 2014 and 2018†
and for matchmakers like
Molloy, business is thriving.
But what can we learn from a
woman who charges upwards of £15,000 for
her services? Does she really know the secret to finding
love in a world so reliant on algorithms? I decided to
go back to that old ambition of mine, and become
a professional matchmaker to find out.
A HOT FRONT
“It’s all coming back now – bespoke, hand-holding
dating,” says Molloy, smearing butter on toast, talking
to me and peering at her email inbox all at the same
time. It’s a few days later and we’re at Home House, a
private members’ club in London. Despite having nine
offices globally (and living in Cannes herself), Irish
Molloy works, it seems, wherever there will be eligible
singles. She blanches at the idea of being called a
“matchmaker”; she’d prefer “relationship psychologist”
(she also works in the field and has a degree in psychology
and a master’s in criminal law). She certainly has a way
of eking out personal details – when I listen to our
conversation on my Dictaphone a few days later, I
realise it took just 10 minutes for me to let her in on
some extremely personal details about my own life.
This is a huge part of her job. I’d imagined I’d spend
the day rifling through profiles of people on a computer,
pairing them together. But that’s not how it works.
Molloy gets to know people quickly, her client base is
made up of applications from the website, referrals and
those who she actively seeks. Berkeley International
tailors a package for each client, depending on their
specific needs – for those willing to spend the big bucks,
Molloy or one of her 20 global “ambassadors” will fly all
across the world looking for their chosen match. “So I
could ask you to find me Jack O’Connell and you could?”
I ask, wondering if, for this feature (and my career), my
husband might let me go on a date with him. “You have
to be realistic,” Molloy says, dashing my hopes... but
maybe saving my marriage. “We may not have that sort
of person, or they may not be interested in you. But
you could say, ‘I want to meet someone in LA in the
film industry,’ and we could set that up for you.”
Once in LA or New York (or wherever you need
her), Molloy will get herself into the right parties and
“network”. “We once had a client
who really wanted to meet a
doctor from Harvard,” she tells me.
“We flew out [to the US] and, for
weeks, went to all the socials and
set her up with 16 or so people.
Naturally, I can say to someone,
‘Are you in a relationship?’ and
find out, then hand them a card.”
Before taking anyone on as
a client, there’s a brief phone
consultation in which it’s decided if they’re “suitable”
(more on that later), and then it’s a full-on interview.
This takes place in clients’ homes, or in the Berkeley
International offices, where we head next to grill Amy
Grier, Cosmopolitan’s executive editor (and, not-as-
awkward-as-it-sounds, my boss). We’re putting her on
Berkeley’s books so I can see how it works. I’m jealous- Molloy is highly secretive as to who she looks after, but
it’s a mixture of lawyers, business owners and celebrities...
one client even hosts his dates on his private jet.
Over glasses of fizzy water, Molloy fires questions at
Amy, in a process that’s more like a very intense job
interview. Every now and then she shuts her eyes, as if
mentally scrolling through faces in her head. “You’re
always thinking of your clients,” she confirms later. “The
minute someone walks in the room I have an idea in ›
“YOU COULD SAY,
‘I WANT TO MEET
SOMEONE IN LA,’ AND
WE’D SET THAT UP”
Things are
looking up
if you live in
Nottingham