I can’t say exactly when all of the girls on the internet started wanting to fuck their fathers, but it seemed to coincide with a mass consensus that Nabokov’s child-rape novel Lolita was now, in fact, an epic love-story. Whether the chicken or egg came first—whether the internet has the power to turn all teenage girls into would-be fatherfuckers, or whether the would-be fatherfuckers simply congregated online—is irrelevant: “Daddy” is either the new or the old “bae,” depending who’s asking.

I remember, thirteen years ago, discovering a website which claimed to have proof that Jessica Simpson’s father had sold her into a pre-built Calabasas house which MTV had fitted with secret cameras; that while her reality series was off-screen, these hidden cameras were filming her fucking her husband, using the bathroom, picking her nose, et cetera et cetera. With fathers like these, who needs enemies? Proving there’s nothing new under the sun, the singer Faye Richmonde recorded a song called “My Pussy Belongs To Daddy” in 1957, sounding like nothing so much as a sonic precursor to Tumblr’s obsession—a musical Daddy’s-Girl Blingee, a powder-pink butt-plug, a picture of Dominique Swain with a lollipop. The sound and the sleeve of the record are pink, for girls. But, really: pink for girls who’re for men.

Philippa Snow is a writer living in London, and the Features Editor of Modern Matter magazine.