I’m not surprised that “rizz” is Oxford Dictionary’s word of the year. Why? Because my generation – Gen Z – is sick of online courtship. The term, which is short for “charisma”, relates to a person’s ability to attract a romantic partner. Essentially, “rizz” means that you can playfully yet seamlessly strike up a conversation with a new love interest and flirt with them in a light-hearted, resolutely non-intense way.
“Rizz” found popularity in my generation via the Twitch streamer Kai Cenat, who began using the word in his streams in 2022. It trickled down to less successful content creators from there, particularly those in the dating genre – men with large followings of single men would coach them on how to perfect their “rizz” and successfully woo the opposite sex. In June of this year, the word went further viral after the Spider-Man star Tom Holland admitted to Buzzfeed that he had “limited rizz” and that it was much easier having met his partner Zendaya on the set of Spider-Man: Homecoming, rather than awkwardly fumbling over his words in an attempt to chat her up elsewhere.
Its popularity is also a sign of the times, and our currently widespread rejection of online dating and romance apps. We huff at the thought of sifting through profiles filled with inauthentic selfies and corny prompts about enjoying an “average Sunday watching Peep Show”. We roll our eyes when a Hinge match inevitably ghosts us. And god forbid we can keep up with the admin of having Hinge, Bumble and Tinder downloaded all at once. The stats back it up, too. According to a recent Axios/Generation Lab survey of college students and recent graduates in the US, 79 per cent said they don’t use any dating apps at all.
“The rise of rizz feels like a cautious, but curious foray into a more playful and exciting side of dating,” says Rachel Lee, a global insights strategist at The Digital Fairy, a creative agency made up of internet and youth culture specialists. She notes that people typically react to rizz by “blushing” or becoming “giddy” in a way that’s much more fulfilling than receiving a flirty text.
Lee says that many young people are disheartened by how “dehumanising” it can feel to be defined by a singular online profile. Being on the receiving end of “rizz”, however, can make you feel more special – it’s as if someone genuinely wants to get your attention and keep you interested. “We know that many of us have been frustrated with ‘swipe fatigue’ on dating apps – paralysed by too many choices provided by the algorithm,” explains Lee. “The direct attention and intimacy that exercising or receiving ‘rizz’ commands speak to our wider desires to truly and explicitly connect with someone this year.”
Lee adds that the light-hearted nature of practising “rizz” allows for a smoother start to conversations. “It provides an alternative way of being vulnerable or communicating attraction, especially for younger generations, without the implications of a feat as daunting as confessing your love,” she says. “It feels fun, digestible and manageable – especially [in] a dating landscape that can feel intimidating and over-serious.”
However, not all of us are born with “rizz”. It’s something you may have to acquire over time, or at least practise a little. And that might be why TikTok is awash with young men, who claim they have groundbreaking “rizz” techniques, giving advice to their peers. Apparently, practising “rizz” can be extremely simple. One video – that I watch through laughter – recommends holding the gaze of the person you’re talking to, peppering the conversation with subtle compliments, and finishing it all off with a well-rehearsed one-liner to try and ask for their number. I’m not exactly sold, but many others might be. And, Lee adds, it’s hardly something to be frightened of.
“We all just want to feel stimulated and reinvigorated in trying times like these,” she says. “‘Rizz’ is a surefire way to do it.”
