|Aunt Mev and Camie!|
I went to a Taylor Swift concert last week– mommy’s night out! I got the tickets back in December. It was a Christmas miracle.
Let me just say that the clientele at a Taylor Swift concert boasts far more variety than I expected. It’s the Golden Corral of concerts. Clam chowder, pizza, and chocolate fountains all swirl together in a dizzying hodgepodge of Taylor love. Inebriated 30-somethings sashay past grandmothers while miserable yet accommodating fathers rush to keep up with 8-year-old girls. Audience– buffet-style.
And then Taylor came out on stage.
Her performance? Fun! Her voice? Acceptably on-key. Yet somehow every move she made felt so manufactured. Her speech was affected, her expressions artificial– the whole experience was like watching high-school theater–with pyrotechnics and confetti shooters. And I would know because I participated in a lot of high school theater.
Let me break this down:
- Taylor Swift likes to talk about her life philosophy– a lot. The concert began with an 8 minute sermon about:
- how she associates certain colors with certain emotions
- how people say she’s too emotional and crazy but those feelings just make her a better person.
- other stuff that makes girls sound high-maintenance.
- Taylor Swift can not dance. She’s just too lanky and awkward so she primarily sassy-walks around the stage while making eyes at the audience. I actually kind of loved this.
- She can, however, dress in outfits that will blow your mind. Each costume change was more exhilarating than the last and I am now determined to find some red skinny jeans and maybe a black & white striped top while I’m at it.
- Taylor Swift is as pretty in person as she is in pictures. If I could have done it without being arrested, I would have jumped on stage and touched her face to see if it was real.
- Taylor Swift likes to act out her songs, which means that all ballads are accompanied by melodramatic sad-faces and slumped shoulders. At one climatic moment, Taylor took her hands off the piano and stared at the audience like a basset hound, as if to say “Look at me… this is a sad face. I’m so so sad…” This lasted 10 full seconds– or long enough to make me completely uncomfortable. I thought I might pull a Liz Lemon and be like…