I’ve long thought of perfume as my favorite psychological weapon in the art of seduction: invisible, and fraught with potential to push you into lust or horror with such a grace that you can’t see coming.Perfume is like language in the way that it can wound and seduce at the exact same time. When my system is so shocked by the opener of a perfume, I’m forced to stop to examine it like a sensory car crash — watch it unfold in glorious detail, to examine the remains and smoke and ruin.I made scones for breakfast, leaned against the counter to get close to the herbs as they baked.I tried to coordinate my schedule for the day into one of sensory pleasures that would rub off on the shirt.Today we celebrate the anniversary of the following blog. We have been posting some of them on our facebook page entitled “Myfatherdaughter.com” Many more people are now following this blog. Dads have been sending in pictures of themselves, in their shirts along with their daughters from all over the world.
Through the magic of Social Media, it was by far the most read, passed around and commented on blog in the life of this little project.
Twenty-five minutes after I first logged on, a message came up: “You used to live across the hall from me freshman year at NYU.” And so my first date was set up.
I remembered him, and while I knew this wasn’t going to lead to romance, it felt like reconnecting with an old friend. Together we dished on all things Tinder—why did so many men (and women) insist on posting photos of themselves with their kids, for instance?
My poor granddaughter does not stand a chance with her Daddy.
He is very protective and he says she's never dating.