Dads on Duty

DBAG DATING DADS ON DUTY

I recently had the pleasure of attending a friend’s wedding and hearing the father of the bride make a fantastic speech about meeting the groom for the first time. He first recounted the story of meeting his own wife, the bride’s mother, and immediately being thrown off-kilter by her penchant for warm hugs, a concept that had previously been lost on him. A couple of decades – and five daughters – later, he had become a seasoned pro at the fine art of hugging, when one of the girls announced that she was bringing home a boy. Her dad decided to greet the new boyfriend by enveloping him into a big bear hug, almost terrifying the poor kid into fleeing back to New York. (FYI, her dad is about 6’3.) And yet, not only did said boyfriend stick around, but he also went on to marry the daughter, ensuring himself a lifetime of trademark family embraces!

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New York Minute

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Editor’s Note: Nope, we are not reporting back from the early 2000s. It appears that speed dating – the very same dating format that once inspired SATC’s Miranda to pretend to be a stewardess for the sake of male seduction – is still a real thing, taking place on the island of Manhattan. While no allure of “blog research” could convince me to embark upon this terrifying venture, a friend of mine, lovingly known as The Log, recently had the courage to sign up for a speed dating event that granted her the opportunity of meeting 15 eligible bachelors over the course of 2.5 hours. “That’s more dates than I have been on in the past 10 years! Why the hell not?” she told me when confronted by my bewildered stare. I promised her not to judge, as long as she agreed to report back with a story. Which you can now enjoy for yourself. 

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Drunk in Love

drunk in love dbag dating

I recently had the pleasure of revisiting a valuable lesson that most people learn once and for all in their teens: never drink on an empty stomach. Especially on a date. Particularly on a date with a man who happens to combine an intricate balance of douche and alcoholic.

Jason* and I met in a way that, I suppose, could be perceived as “fateful”, unless you happen to be me, who has serendipitous stuff happen to her on a regular basis, without any fate-altering results.

*Fake name because I’m a respectful person. 

Our meeting commenced, like all the best things in life, via the virtual cesspool of winners that is Raya. With his Howard street hipster vibe and aloof text manner, he seemed overly douchy even by my high standards, managing to somehow slip into one conversation that he was a filthy rich designer whose “brands were sold at Barneys,” before inviting me to come to his loft for Christmas leftovers at 11pm. I passed on the delicacies and quickly forgot all about his existence up until May, when fate got back in action.

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Staycation Ideas that will Benefit Your Love Life

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According to my Snapchat, the whole world is on vacation.

Unlike The Row bags or Gucci slippers or any other commodities flaunted by fancy people that I cannot afford, travel is the only luxury capable of evoking an unsettling feeling of jealousy within me, making me want to order a new credit card and ditch real life for the foreseeable future. What I often fail to forget is that a proper staycation can often be as liberating – and fun – as any getaway, particularly if said adventure takes place in New York City, a bona fide playground for unforeseen exploits. If approached strategically, staycations can also be quite beneficial for your love life, giving you an opportunity to reboot your romantic chakras, man roster, and mentality! All you have to do is follow these simple guidelines.

Stage yourself a weekend-long speed dating event, rounding up all the humanoids you have been conversing with via dating apps but have failed to actually meet in person. Schedule all dates in proximate neighborhoods, within two-hour time windows that will ensure that you will a – never be alone and b – feel like you have a boyfriend all weekend. Oh, call them all BABE to avoid silly errors.

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When Squad Grows Up (And You Don’t)

WHEN SQUAD GROWS UP DBAG DATING

I recently renamed my group chat The Stepford Diaries. Then I almost exited it altogether. Call me immature, but the prospect of listening to endless debates on the most lightweight stroller on the Bugaboo market made me want to inflict physical pain upon myself in a not-so-lightweight way.

Please keep in mind that, a mere decade ago, the members of my group chat were passing around a tiered, backless Alice & Olivia dress to slut it up at 1 Oak. And negotiating their way into Bungalow 8 to do illegal narcotics next to B-list celebrities. And driving to the Hamptons for one night to cuddle in random beds with Veuve Clicquot magnums (and strangers.) Today, these same women are passing around quinoa puree recipes and cuddling in bed with their multi-member households.

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Love the Guy, Hate His Style? Here’s How to (Subtly!) Fix It

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Love and acceptance go hand in hand. Having learned this lesson through trial and error sometime in my mid-20s, I made sure to apply it to the continuation of my dating career, a mission that proved to be particularly difficult when faced with men of, how shall I put it, questionable sartorial aesthetics. From square-toed shoes to violently patterned Carhartt sweatshirts to Givenchy skirts artfully layered over leggings, I encountered—and practiced Buddhist levels of patience on—men of all stylistic visions. Yet, no PC approach could have prepared me for the prospect of bringing a certain Yamamoto cape–donning ex to a family dinner. In what I still consider to be one of my weakest moments, I resorted to the trusted-yet-cowardly “it’s not you, it’s me” cop-out, figuring it was for the greater good of sparing him my Russian father’s inquisitive stare. Months after our breakup, I wondered whether I had been too rash in disregarding an otherwise excellent human based on something as superficial as his outerwear. After all, isn’t there an entire school of thought centered around the notion that a man’s wardrobe eventually becomes a reflection of the tastes of his significant other, a sartorial spinoff of the popular “Behind every successful man is a great woman”? And so I turned to a group of women with far better track records than I in the dating department to see if a man’s tastes, or at the very least his wardrobe, can, indeed, be changed.

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