Rent a Girlfriend Denmark was never meant to be a dating app or a new form of escorting. It was pitched as a playful, made-for-TV idea: book a professional actor to show up as your “partner” at a family gathering, a wedding, or a dinner, and then reveal the gimmick on the same day. But the project has now been put on hold indefinitely, after public criticism focused on consent, boundaries and the risk of unwanted contact.
What the “rent a girlfriend” idea was in practice
The initiative came from Dansk Skuespillerkatalog (DASK), a Danish casting and auditions platform that matches productions with actors and extras.
Under the concept, a customer would describe the situation by email and ask for a specific “type” of partner to play: the awkward boyfriend, the vegan girlfriend who changes their mind mid-dinner, the partner with bizarre hobbies, or a deliberately mismatched couple designed to provoke reactions around the table. The framing was closer to improvised theatre than romance: a short performance, built around social tension, and meant to end with the reveal.
DASK’s own presentation stressed that the “booking” itself would be free, while any fee for the actor’s time and preparation would be agreed directly between customer and performer. The company would handle tax reporting for any payment, in line with normal freelance work.
Why the organisers hit pause
The project’s launch quickly produced a predictable question: how do you prevent a staged relationship from sliding into pressure, harassment, or ambiguity about physical contact?
In interviews about the concept, DASK’s founder Tommy Duus acknowledged that there were “pitfalls” he had not fully considered and that the project needed clearer rules before it could run. The idea was paused before the first confirmed customer.
The immediate trigger was a critical radio interview that raised practical scenarios: unwanted touching, an uninvited kiss, or a client who pushes the actor beyond what was agreed. The underlying issue was not the prank itself, but the duty of care that comes with arranging a paid “relationship performance” in private settings.
Consent and boundaries were the core problem
DASK had already tried to address the most sensitive point: physical contact.
Its concept note introduced a written consent declaration to be signed in advance by both parties, specifying what kind of flirting—if any—was allowed and where the line would be drawn. It also underlined that participation should be voluntary and that consent could be withdrawn at any time.
The guidance recommended limiting physical contact to a brief, mutual hug and discouraged anything beyond that without explicit, mutual agreement.
The problem, however, is that real-life social settings are not controlled environments. A family event can involve alcohol, peer pressure and unpredictable dynamics. Even with paperwork, the boundary between “acting” and “being treated as a partner” can become blurry, especially if the premise is that the actor is supposed to be convincing.
In Denmark, consent has become a central public theme in recent years—not only in activism and education, but also in law. That broader context made the debate around the project sharper: a concept that relies on simulated intimacy will be judged on how seriously it treats consent and the right to stop.
A Danish twist on a global “rental companion” market
On one level, the concept looked like a local adaptation of a global trend: paid companionship services that sit somewhere between entertainment, emotional labour and social facilitation.
In Japan, “rental” services have existed for years, from hiring a companion for a public event to renting a “family member” for a staged social role. In many cases, companies stress boundaries and explicitly reject sexual services, but the business still raises ethical questions about loneliness, commodified intimacy and client expectations.
Denmark’s version was different in tone—more prank than comfort—and also more exposed to risk. By placing the performance inside private gatherings, the concept increased the chance of misunderstandings and made enforcement harder.
