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That doesn’t mean they have to be Ivy graduates or work for a big-name firm.

But they should have accomplished something in their 20s.”Yeah, by that standard, I probably wouldn’t have even qualified. Well, I am an Ivy League grad but I have never seen it as something special.

Thirty-seven percent of New York Leaguers have graduate degrees, 13 percent are CEOs or founders, and 56 percent have attended what Bradford refers to as “highly selective” schools (i.e., “Ivy League, plus,” she says, of the 40 schools, including the gatekeeper’s undergraduate alma mater, Carnegie Mellon, that made the cut).

Bradford says she wouldn’t immediately rule out accepting someone like a restaurant server, but, she admits, “I don’t know how many waitresses have Linked In.” “I think of this more as a power-couple app,” says Bradford, who speaks in a rapid succession of acronyms — HBIC (head bitch in charge), DFMO (dance floor make out) and HMD (hair and makeup done) among them.

“So we expedited him.” After all, in the League, square footage is currency — as is a loaded résumé.

Tinder is “awful, just a mess, a waste of time,” laments the 31-year-old CEO and founder of an online automotive business.

Hinge is old news: “I went to high school with the founder,” he explains. We need that.” Apparently, so do 30,000 other New Yorkers. The company — the “country club” of dating apps, according to Bradford — uses a secret algorithm to mine potential users’ Linked In and Facebook profiles.

(The app, which is free, even boasts a concierge service that doles out dating tips and feedback.) “I think it’s a good fit for the mentality here.” Since the app launched, she has been inundated with pleas from the public.

One mom implored the founder by email to help her soon-to-be 37-year-old daughter who “continues to enter into relationships that have no long-term possibilities: men with children, musicians, foreigners, unemployed artists.” A 33-year-old man, and a self-professed “pedigree snob,” wrote to Bradford: “Save me from the Tinder cesspool.” A 20-something Vogue editor has had no fewer than six emails sent on her behalf (she still hasn’t been accepted).

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