I recently attended a dinner party that left me burning with rage – one that hasn’t simmered down, even as the days have passed. In fact, I’m still scratching my head, disgusted by how such a gross conversation unfolded.
You see, it turns out Sydney’s elite still has a secret (and completely outdated) rulebook for dating. And, surprise, surprise – I don’t make the cut.
The term being tossed around at the dinner was ‘blue bloods’ – a tight-knit crew of old-money elites from the ritzy north shore and eastern suburbs who have some very particular ideas about who’s allowed to date whom.
And spoiler alert: if you don’t have the right surname, a family estate in the Highlands, and a membership at the right polo club, you’re about as welcome as a kebab at an art gallery.
Yes, this sort of thing is still happening. Allow me to explain.
I stumbled into this world when a friend confided in me at the dinner party about his relationship woes. But this wasn’t your usual modern dating drama – ghosting, breadcrumbing etc. Oh, no. His issue? Well, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but his girlfriend had suddenly gone cold on him, and it was driving him spare.
It turns out Sydney’s elite still have a secret, and completely outdated, rulebook for dating (Bernadette Fahey and Jordan Sukkar pictured at Sydney’s society wedding of 2024)
Then, another person at the table piped up quite matter-of-factly (and admittedly, after a few wines) to inform him that it was because he wasn’t ‘blue blooded enough’ for her. And, more importantly, neither was his family.
Yes, that’s a direct quote.
And yes, this fellow dinner guest proudly declared himself a blue blood – a statement so dripping with privilege that I almost gagged. He explained his lineage made him qualified to make such a damning judgement in polite company. Ugh, ick.
Turns out, unbeknownst to my poor friend, there had been much heated discussion going on behind the scenes between his girlfriend, her parents and their wider social circle about why they were an unsuitable match.
Without giving too much away, my friend, whom I adore and would consider a catch, comes from a humble family in the suburbs. Through his own hard graft, he became successful in business and has risen through the ranks of Sydney society.
He has money – no one can deny that. The problem is… it’s new money.
His girlfriend, on the other hand, comes from a very wealthy family whose money has been passed down and multiplied through generations. Their fortune is built on large, prosperous farms, smart investments and the right social connections, which ensured her social standing was established long before she was even born.
Well, all of this was aired at the dinner party, fuelled by the sort of obnoxious upper-class candour that only the finest wine can unleash. It was awkward. And, frankly, it was deeply offensive to those of us who weren’t brought up in such circles.
Would heiress Lou Hay and property developer Jack O’Neil be considered old money, or new?
Don’t get me wrong, I was lucky enough to attend a private school and enjoy a comfortable life. But, I was told in no uncertain terms, that even my family’s farming background – no matter how successful – was still not ‘blue blood’ enough.
Now, that wasn’t the only ‘flaw’ that ruled me out of the Harbour City’s elite dating circles. But more on that later.
But here’s the ridiculous thing: I’m not talking about dating preferences here. These are rules apparently observed by Australia’s elite families, who, I am reliably informed, don’t simply prefer their offspring date within the ‘right’ circles – they demand it.
Marrying outside the fold isn’t just frowned upon, it’s a full-blown scandal, one that involves family interventions should someone fall for the wrong kind of person.
I’m sorry, I thought Australia was a nation founded by convicts dragged to this country in chains and disgrace. What is this British high-society nonsense?
Despite coming from a wealthy agricultural family, it was made abundantly clear to Mail+ columnist Jana Hocking that she was banned from the blue bloods’ dating society
As my rage simmered, a sympathetic friend leaned over and admitted his own wife’s family still doesn’t accept him the same way they do their other sons- and daughters-in-law. Why? Because his religious background doesn’t match their family tree.
And when I dared to call out the sheer ridiculousness of it all? I was swiftly reminded that I – a dating columnist who, gasp, talks about women enjoying sex – would never be welcome in their world, even if I did have the right surname.
Apparently, discussing female pleasure makes me a liability, a scandal, an embarrassment. (Meanwhile, half their husbands are sliding into my DMs – but sure, let’s keep pretending I’m the problem here.)
So what are the rules of blue blood dating? After our rather heated dinner debate, I quickly realised they boil down to a few simple (and horrendously shallow) rules.
A blue blood must:
• Not date someone with a ‘past’. Yes, if you’ve ever had a naughty phase, don’t think it’ll be wiped from your dating CV. Anything that could bring shame to a blue blood family is strictly off-limits.
• Not date someone with a job that would be deemed ‘tabloid’. Honestly, when I questioned what a blue blood family would think of their son dating me, I was told it would be perfectly fine if I wrote for a broadsheet newspaper – think The Australian or the Financial Review (snore). But seeing as I write about juicy topics for the Daily Mail, well no, that certainly rules me out. To quote the pompous prick at our dinner: ‘They (we) wouldn’t want to be associated with you in our circles.’ When I asked why he follows me on social media, he pointed out that, to be honest, he shouldn’t. You can’t make this stuff up! Safe to say, I no longer follow him.
• Must have the same religious beliefs. Blue bloods don’t like to venture too far away from their own religions. Wild.
• Women can date a sportsman – but only from the right code. Rugby union? Acceptable. Tennis? Of course. Skiing or sailing? Absolutely. But rugby league? Not a chance. AFL? Too rough. Anything involving motorbikes, boxing, or – god forbid – a soccer ball? Absolutely not. The blue bloods like their athletes polished, well-spoken and preferably wearing a blazer at the post-match function.
• Family wealth must be old money, not new. This might explain why a recent high-profile marriage didn’t work out – if my intel is correct, he’s from an old-money family, she’s from newly earned wealth. Perhaps this is proof that old-and new-money marriages don’t mix. The same could be said for Kyle Sandilands: despite his millions, he wasn’t born into Sydney’s elite, making his marriage to Tegan Kynaston an eyebrow-raiser in some high-society circles. Thankfully, not their immediate one.
Would Fishbowl founder Nathan Dalah and model Georgia Fowler make the blue-blood cut given that he’s a self-made man she is, shock horror, a New Zealander?
The more I dug deeper, the more I realised this isn’t some niche little club – it’s a full-blown Sydney dating phenomenon that puts Chelsea and Manhattan to shame.
Well lean in, dear reader, because this is the real scandal for the blue bloods: the self-made multimillionaires of Australia’s Rich List are lapping them in terms of wealth, success and influence.
Think Atlassian’s Mike Cannon-Brookes and Scott Farquhar, who built their fortune from scratch and now own some of Sydney’s most jaw-dropping real estate.
Or Afterpay’s Nick Molnar, who revolutionised the way we shop and sold his business for billions before most blue bloods had even checked their family trust fund balance.
The irony? These guys, despite their wealth, would still be considered outsiders to the blue blood circles – because they earned it themselves rather than inheriting it.
Curious about where exactly the line gets drawn, I asked whether Stu Laundy – yes, that Stu Laundy, the pub baron who once won Sophie Monk’s heart (and mine, once upon a time) – would count as a blue blood.
And oooft, did I get shut down fast. Apparently not. Why? Because his family’s wealth, while impressive, is ‘only’ a generation old.
His father may have built a pub empire, but that doesn’t count for much in blue blood land, where wealth is expected to date back several generations.
His ancestors missed the boat when the First Fleet set off from England. What a pity!
And that’s before we look into how his family made their riches. Pubs, I was informed with a sniff, are considered ‘working class money’ no matter how many zeros are in the bank account. So, while he may own some of Sydney’s most lucrative venues, he’d still be looked down upon by the polo set. You cannot win with these people.
And honestly, it all seems so snobby and subjective – who draws the line? Are Lou Hay and Jake O’Neil old money or new? What about Bernadette Fahey and Jordan Sukkar – are they blue-blooded enough? Nathan Dalah and Georgia Fowler seem like they might not make the cut, despite being hot and rich. (She is a Kiwi, after all.)
So, here’s my take: old-fashioned matchmaking is making a comeback, but not in the cute rom-com way.
As Sydney’s wealth gap grows, so do the invisible velvet ropes around the city’s poshest postcodes.
Forget love – if your last name doesn’t carry weight, you might as well swipe left on the Sydney elite.
Well, give me a self-made man any day of the week! And if you think about inviting me to a dinner, make sure I’m seated far away from the pompous society snobs!
