Daughter, 14, just walked into my office in a pair of opaque black tights, a pair of tiny "booty" shorts and an old Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt with the arms hacked off and the neckline altered to make it a "scoop." Her eye make-up is smudgy-black. Cute. Smoky eyes, she calls it. She's going to a dance.
"Hey," she says. "How do I look?"