The other morning a very anxious woman called an office in downtown Chicago with a request that any mother could understand. "I want to get him out of the house," she said. "He's a nice boy. A doctor. But he's 38, for goodness' sake." The answer, of course, is to find that nice doctor a bride. And that is exactly what Heather Stern is in business to do: she is a matchmaker, '80s style.
Admittedly, this mother's request was unusual. But Stern's seven-year-old Chicago company, Personal Profiles, takes most problems to its bosom in its quest to find a spouse for each of its 1,650 clients, ranging from architects and artists to lawyers and engineers. This is not your matchmaker of old, Yente of Fiddler on the Roof or the garrulous busybody of Crossing Delancey, the sort of woman who knows her potential lovebirds like a good breeder knows horseflesh. Stern, who is a svelte 39, says her matchmaking is far more sophisticated and scientific; more, she says, like the methods used by an executive search firm. As evidence, she boasts of more than 100 marriages and & no divorces. Hopeful brides and bridegrooms are probed for their creditworthiness, their job history and their marital status. Appearance and habits are carefully noted: Does he bite his nails? Does she have bad teeth? They are prodded for their likes and dislikes: Does he like reggae? Does she like Rostropovich? "I try to introduce two people who are so similar to each other that when the going gets rough, they can fall back on their similarities. If a client likes to sail, he's a poor match for a woman who gets seasick. "
Such is vanity that Stern's clients sometimes have unrealistic visions of the sort of person they could reasonably expect to attract as a mate. "We had this gentleman, very bright but average looking, certainly no Tom Selleck, and he described someone who looked like Farrah Fawcett. Well, there's no way. Only a 10 can ask for a 10." That means compromise, as one of Stern's clients, whom we will call Lucy, quickly found. She was 37 and divorced and was after the sort of man who sets hearts pounding on L.A. Law. She was introduced to Nigel, who was pleasant in every way, except, oh, horror, he was bald, and Lucy's vision of a dreamboat did not include an absence of hair. At first she was cold to Nigel's advances. But gradually her heart warmed, and last December they were married.
Why, it might reasonably be asked, would people pay Stern $1,450 for a 24- month effort to find them a mate, rather than doing for themselves what is supposed to come naturally? The answer is dismally simple. "They are just too busy. If you are working 60 to 80 hours a week, there is very little time to go out hunting. Single people have organized their lives to get what they want: the good education, the condo, the car. Then one day they say, Gee, I want to be married. So they hire a consultant like me to help them. They can't buy love really -- but kind of."