You're invited

You're invited

One night. One chance. One stranger who might just change everything.

Crumpled piece of lined paper with handwritten question, 'Will you be my plus one?' and checkboxes labeled 'Yes', 'No', and 'Maybe'.

we’ve forgotten what it feels like to meet someone.

to feel a gaze linger. to lean in during a conversation.

to walk home and wonder, “was that something?”

 

we exist to bring back the butterflies.

to slow things down, and speed up serendipity.

 

fuck swiping.

fuck forced small talk.

fuck attending parties with no purpose.

this is not for everyone.

 

PlusOne is an invitation.

to show up.

to flirt with the unknown.

to feel something, for real.

 

no swiping. no filters. no cringey icebreakers.

just your name, your vibe, and one unexpected night.

come solo. leave with a story – or better yet, your future plus one.

Who are we?

A woman with curly dark hair and hoop earrings smiling and talking to a man with dreadlocks, wearing a tan jacket. She is holding a glass of drink with lemon, and they are standing indoors near a stone wall with a wall lamp.
A group of young adults celebrating at a party with smiles, drinks, and a small green flag in a dimly lit indoor setting.
A man and woman in an intimate moment, about to kiss, in a dimly lit room with red neon lighting.
A black background with a white circle outline.

51.5072° N
0.1276° W

Two cocktails on a dark wooden table, one garnished with a slice of orange and a marshmallow, and the other with a passion fruit half, and a person holding a card that says, 'Describe what you think kissing me would be like.'

RSVP

RSVP