The creator says the final series of her interview show will close a 12-year run that turned awkward charm into a cross-generational media asset.
Amelia Dimoldenberg is winding down Chicken Shop Date, ending the long-running interview series that turned deadpan flirting and carefully engineered awkwardness into one of the internet’s most durable formats.
The final series will close out a 12-year run that took Dimoldenberg from a youth-center magazine column in northwest London to a show that drew everyone from Paul McCartney and Billie Eilish to Dave and Sabrina Carpenter. The format worked because it refused the polished, promotional tone that dominates celebrity interviews. Guests were pushed off script. The tension was the point.
From a London column to a global interview brand
Dimoldenberg launched Chicken Shop Date at 17 as a print column for The Cut, a London magazine run out of a youth center. It began with grime coverage. Once it became a web series, the show’s offbeat style opened the door to a wider set of musicians, then film and television talent as publicists caught on to its reach.
The channel’s most viral clips later came from dates with Andrew Garfield and Jennifer Lawrence, proof that the show had moved well beyond music while keeping the same basic engine: a host who could make a big-name guest look slightly off balance without losing control of the room.
That balance made the series unusually useful. It was funny, but it was also a reliable piece of media real estate. For talent teams, it offered a softer landing than a standard press junket. For viewers, it felt less like promotion than a performance that could go wrong at any moment.
Dimoldenberg says the next chapter is already underway
In a statement and on Instagram, Dimoldenberg said the decision to end the series would let her “move on from this adventure and onto the next one.” She framed the show as a personal project as much as a professional one.
“When I was 17, I thought that I might meet the love of my life on a date in a chicken shop,” she wrote. “Since then, I’ve spent my entire twenties sat across from the most incredible people, people I’d always dreamt of meeting. All of them charmed me (some more than others), and I definitely charmed them. To me, the show is my very own romcom, and I have loved being able to share it with you.”
That tone has always been part of the brand. Dimoldenberg built the show around a persona that could be sharp without turning hostile, playful without becoming disposable. It gave her a lane that was distinct from the usual creator economy churn, where personality often gets flattened into content volume.
Dimz Inc. keeps her in control of the IP
Dimoldenberg produces Chicken Shop Date through her Dimz Inc. label, which matters as much as the show itself. She owns the format, the voice, and the audience relationship that came with it. That is the asset.
She is already moving into other projects. Deadline reports that she is developing a young adult drama series for the BBC and a romcom movie for Orion Pictures. The end of Chicken Shop Date does not read like a retreat. It reads like a creator making room for the next phase while the original still has value.
For an industry that has spent years trying to bottle creator-led authenticity, Dimoldenberg did something harder: she made it repeatable, then made it matter. Now she is choosing when to stop.
