What it takes to marry a millionaire

By Hilary Shenfeld – Daily Herald Staff Writer

Posted on May 29, 2001

Millionaires don’t want to marry ugly women. Or fat girls.

Dumb chicks aren’t high on the list either, nor are dowdy-dressed gals or babes who’ve seen a few too many candles on the birthday cake.

All that according to a woman who next month plans to launch a super-exclusive dating service in Chicago called the Millionaire’s Club. She will attempt to match up area millionaires who plunk down a $10,000 fee with women looking for a man to treat them in a style they’d love to become accustomed to.

Of course not just any lonely-hearts honey will be able to snare the hearts of rich men. Only about 10 percent of the women who apply for membership are accepted.

“We’re not looking for bimbos,” says Patti Stanger, who 18 months ago opened the first branch of the Millionaire’s Club out of her Los Angeles apartment.

Jeez, give her clients some credit. “They (millionaires) don’t look for strippers,” she says. “They’re looking for wife material.”

That means no gold-diggers, whom Stanger says are easy to identify and quick to be disqualified.

“If they ask for Gucci, Fendi Prada, and skiing in Aspen for Christmas,” then they care more about money than love. “You can smell them out in 10 minutes,” she says.

In addition to being free of crass monetary aspirations, ladies, your future spouse ideally would like you to be smart, successful in your own career, gorgeous, physically fit, college educated and fun to be with.

One more thing. Try to be under 45 years old.

“A lot of older women, I can’t do anything with them. The men don’t want them,” Stanger confides. That’s why, she says,

At least that seems to be the case in L.A., New York and Miami, the cities where the club currently operates.

Perhaps Chicago men, with their Midwest sensibilities and all, will exhibit more open minds.

Stanger seems to think so, anyway.

“L.A. wants a flashier, Perfect 10 type,” she said in a January piece on CBS’ “The Early Show.” “New York wants intelligence with looks. Chicago, you can be 10 pounds overweight, put a little blush on, put a little sweatpants on and you’re considered ravishing, you know what I’m saying?”

Ouch.

So far, though, Stanger hasn’t liked what she’s seen here.

After an article about the club ran in Marie Claire magazine, Stanger was flooded with inquiries from women wondering how to sign up for the service, which costs them nothing to join.

“The women in Chicago were not attractive,” says Stanger, who estimates more than 150 bachelorettes from the city and suburbs responded. “They were heavy. The pictures were horrible. I threw them in the trash.”

After all, she’s got to think of her clients, who, shockingly, can be superficial.

“Men are very critical and judgmental,” Stanger says. “If a guy doesn’t get attracted on the first date – if it doesn’t have the ‘shwing factor’ – he’s outta there.”

For $10,000, he expects quality.

Not that Mr. Picky is Mr. Perfect himself. In fact, the typical Millionaire’s Club man falls into one of three categories.

For starters, he could be a workaholic, such as a “geeky nerd or doctor,” an Internet millionaire or a player in the real estate market. He’s a little shy and has spent so much time making money he never learned how to make social connections. Category number two is the “Hugh Hefner” type. He’s Mr. Looking for A Bigger, Better Deal, Stanger says.

This guy “has a woman he’ll sleep with but no one he would ever marry,” she says. He has highly unrealistic expectations and never is satisfied even with a woman who has all the right qualities.

“Hef” always thinks he can do better, so he becomes a serial dater, leaving the chicks in constant confusion. Not that it’s hard, apparently.

“Girls are stupid,” Stanger says. “If he doesn’t call you for a Saturday night, you’re not tops on the list, honey.”

Mr. Better Deal can be tough to work with, Stanger says, but she knows what to do with this sort, who tends to be a stockbroker, banker or other financial type.

“We break them down and we create a soul,” she says. This tends to take some time.

The third class of millionaire is a Nice Guy. He’s divorced or never been married. He dates but can’t seem to find someone to hook up with permanently. Maybe he’s between girlfriends right now.

“He’s the normal person of the three,” Stanger says.

There’s no telling what Chicago-area millionaires on the prowl are like. Stanger says she already has three or four potential clients here, but won’t reveal their identities. Husband hunters can only hope they aren’t like the one Stanger’s friend encountered a year ago.

From initial impressions, the man seemed nice enough. He was a real estate broker and restaurateur who lived in Chicago’s Marina Towers. He liked L.A. women, so he flew them in on weekends to meet them.

He sounded so promising, in fact, that Stanger sent her best friend on a date with him.

But things got off to a bad start when the guy showed up to the date “slobbering drunk,” she says.

Later, “he pounced on her in the hallway of the apartment,” Stanger says. The nerve!

Bottom line, Stanger says, “He was a psycho and I got rid of him.” She also refused to refund his money.

Sounds like he didn’t take to heart the good advice he was given by the Millionaire’s Club staff of experts.

Remember, guys, your wallet isn’t the only thing you need to find a Mrs.? No. You need a heart. You need soul. You need … integrity.

Luckily, you can get all those for $10,000.

For your initiation fee, Mr. Moneybags, you’ll first undergo an “extensive screening process,” Stanger says. Don’t worry, there’s no criminal background check or detailed inspection of financial documents.

“I have to see his home, where he works, I watch him on one or two dates, I see what he drives, I see his friends,” she says.

You’ll get feedback along the way, and if you are somehow able to pass those rigorous tests, you’ll move on to three half-hour consultations.

The first is with dating coach David Wygant, 38.

Wygant’s expertise – which comes from years as a bartender, seminar leader, radio talk-show guest and putative book author (He’s currently looking for a publisher for his tome, “Meet Someone Today”) – has led him to the conclusion that meeting others is the hardest part of dating.
“The main problem is people are afraid to approach people,” he says. “I teach them to become more engaging in person.” One way is simply to say “hello,” he says.

“If you find someone you are attracted to and she’s attracted to you, you should approach them within five minutes,” Wygant says.

In fact, just approaching women in everyday situations is how Wygant met his first wife (fellow bartender). And second wife (fellow treadmill exerciser). And current long-term girlfriend (fellow vitamin section shopper).

Hey, he’s a dating coach, not a commitment coach.

As such, he certainly doesn’t suffer from what he terms the “We’re afraid of each other” disease, which he says afflicts 90 percent of singles.

What Wygant will make you do, Daddy Warbucks, is get out there and actually talk to people.

The second expert you’ll talk to is hypnotherapist Steven Trink.

His goal is to get you to bypass your conscious, analytical mind to enter your subconscious and retrain your mind to think positive thoughts.

He does this via a series of techniques, including hypnosis and something he calls “emotional freedom tapping.” During EFT, he will tap his finger on different points of your body (or direct you how to do it yourself) to release negative imagery. The process is much like acupuncture, but without the needles.

“I help people get in touch with their inner selves and I actually change their conscious belief of who they are,” he says. “We can paint a picture that’s very hopeful and joyful so you have a new image of what the relationship you want will be like.”

In other words, if you think you’re a worthless shlub, despite your fat bankbook, Trink will re-program you to believe you are Mr. Studmuffin.

The final consultation is with Stanger herself, who will give you a good going-over. She’ll let you know that money can’t buy love. It can, however, buy a better you.

“I’ll recommend the Zone diet, I’ll recommend a plastic surgeon, I’ll recommend dentists, I’ll go to Neiman Marcus and take him shopping,” she says.

If that 30-minute image consulting session isn’t sufficient, Stanger offers a full day of her services for $800.

That price could be a bargain for the undivided attention of Stanger, a mid-30s, New York-born entrepreneur who is still looking for love herself.

A third-generation matchmaker, she used to work for another dating service in South Florida and has seen up close the trials and tribulations of those in search of love.

“My whole goal is to bring marriage back,” she says.

By the way, she doesn’t sample the merchandise. She already knows that Mr. Richy Rich isn’t for her.

“I was dating a millionaire, but I wasn’t physically attracted to him,” she says. “I prefer muscles to money.”

You, Mr. Jet Setter, can only hope to do better with the lovely young things with whom you will be personally matched. But even after the experts have turned you into Mr. Right, Stanger still won’t promise your date will like you.

“I guarantee the date,” she says. “I just can’t guarantee she’ll fall in love with you.”

The women have standards, too.

She’s looking for a nice guy with whom to settle down. She wants a “traditional” marriage where she has the option to stay home with the kids if she wants to.

She also wouldn’t mind if her millionaire mate isn’t afraid to spend some of his fortune, according to Victoria, a 29-year-old singer from Los Angeles who’s been in the club about three months.

“I think we’re all looking for the great life,” says Victoria, who didn’t want to give her last name. “I like resorts, I like massages, I like dining out and I’m looking for someone who likes the same things. You can’t find a poor man who enjoys that because he can’t afford it.”

But where is such a man to be found? In fairy tales, for sure, but he might also be hiding right here in our midst.

“Every girl dreams of marrying a Midwest guy,” Stanger says. “They’re the guy who holds the bags for you, who makes the reservations in advance, who wants to settle down, who opens the door to the car, who pays the valet or gives you taxi money.”

Or better yet, the keys to his Jag.