Shanghai's IKEA becomes a hot spot for senior dating

In the Shanghai IKEA cafeteria, dozens of older people gather every Tuesday , eager to make friends and do whatever else might come up. For years, no one knows exactly how many—some say seven; others, ten; it's probably more—retired men and women, widows, divorcees, and singles of all walks of life, from their fifties onward, and of all ages, drop by the cafeteria on the second floor around one o'clock, take a seat, shamelessly spread out the bags of food and thermoses of tea they've brought from home on the tables, peel tangerines, eat sunflower seeds, get up again and again to refill their free coffee cups, undisguisedly scan—a new face, someone interesting?—and create a din with their animated chatter. They look like teenagers on a Friday afternoon in the park. Some are alone, waiting for someone to approach, like that lady over there, standing so upright, her eyes fixed on the table. Others have known each other for years and bounce from one group to another. They meet via WeChat (the Chinese WhatsApp). Sometimes they number more than a hundred people, and there's barely a table left. This correspondent has spent time with them a couple of times. The first time was in 2024; the second time was in February of this year, when they were forced to leave their usual Ikea location due to renovations. They refused to give up: they met at another of the Swedish multinational's stores in Shanghai.

It's fascinating to chat with them. They answer without hesitation. Mr. Yu Zhixin, perhaps the most elegant of those present—black suit, purple tie, white shoes—chats animatedly with Mrs. Ying Ying, 70, while they shell peanuts. He's been coming here for over two years. "The goal isn't to find a girlfriend, but to make friends , and if things go well, maybe become a couple." He's looking for someone to live with, someone who will be with him in his old age. His son lives abroad and he can't take care of him, he confides.

“These days, older people don't feel like going to nursing homes,” she adds. This is her second time attending the meetings. She considers herself a “novice.” She says that, with her pension, she's not short of money. At her age, “almost the only worry is death and aging,” she adds. She believes that when she gets older, she'll lose her ability to move and will only have two options: go to a nursing home (her children have their own lives and can't take care of her, she says) or find a partner who can take care of her. “That's why I came.”

The IKEA appointments reflect a human geography in transition. Those over 60 in China today number nearly 300 million; they represent more than a fifth of the population. And 54% of these seniors—about 160 million—live alone, according to the 2023 China Longitudinal Study of Health and Retirement, reported by Yicai . The country is suffering from a plummeting birth rate and accelerated aging that threaten to undermine its economic development model and jeopardize its pension system, which could be financially unviable by 2035, warns the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences. The situation has forced the government to deepen measures in the eldercare sector. At the same time, Beijing's propaganda promotes the so-called silver economy— products and services for the elderly—a sector that "enjoys enormous potential," according to the People's Daily , the official newspaper of the Communist Party.

These elderly IKEA residents defy the logic of consumer society. Their spending isn't high. They come for something else. They've invented a space of their own. "I feel lonely, and human beings need to talk to other people; it makes us feel happy." Li Shi Qi, 77, has bony fingers stained with ink. He's a painter with a very peculiar technique of striking with brushes and hammers dipped in ink. He usually comes to the gatherings laden with utensils and cardboard, which he places on the table in a fabulously chaotic manner. He's been attending regularly for over 10 years. "The activity isn't organized by anyone, there's no leader; we do it voluntarily; it's natural for people to want a partner." He found his partner last year at these gatherings. But he hasn't stopped coming. He's also made many friends and enjoys spending time chatting with them.