Over at my blog, it is apparently Taylor Swift week. I don’t really know why. I’m not a big Taylor Swift fan. She didn’t do anything exciting this week, like cure AIDS or give a puppy a bath. But for some reason, it’s Taylor Swift week.
And for that reason, I have expanded my normal Heave subject matter to include real people. I mean, I do fandom-related things on here, and Taylor Swift is technically a fandom subject. There are music fandoms. There are even ice skating fandoms, for crying out loud. And she’s most certainly a part of our pop culture. So why not?
The thing is, I liked a whole bunch of songs off of Taylor’s first album. They were cute and catchy and sweet and wistful (like, 16 year old hormonal teenager wistful, not legit-wistful) and girly and fun and infectious. They’re great road-trip songs, where you can belt out off-key tunes without others hearing you and judging you.
Let’s be honest, though: as fun as some of her early songs were, there is no way she would be enjoying her current level of success without Kanye West’s help. She needs to cut Yeezy a big ol’ check and stop singing about how he can still get into heaven even though he interrupted her.
Out of a warped sense of nostalgia and curiosity, I decided to check out her new album that recently dropped. One of my friends is a big fan and I was at her place, waiting for her to finish getting ready so we could go out, and it was sitting on the coffee table, so I figured, why the hell not?
It is horrible. Horrrrrrrrible.
The single? Mine, I think it’s called? Obnoxiously dumb. The stupidest lyrics ever, but not as stupid as that G6 song, so at least she has that going for her.
The rest of the songs? The ones where she calls out all her exes like Joe Jonas (and his girlfriend after he dumped Taylor, Camilla Belle, about whom she says, she’s an actress but she’s more famous for what she does on the mattress), and John Mayer (I’m sorry, I have no respect or sympathy for any girl dumb enough to hook up with that David Duke Dick Douche Extraordinaire) and the rest?
Terrible. Catty. Disgustingly low.
Grow up, Taylor. Her little quip about how dudes she dates have fair warning that they’re going to have songs written about them? Yeah, no. Giving an ‘advanced warning’ or whatever doesn’t make it any less catty or off-putting or sleazy.
Here’s an idea: Go have some life experiences beyond whichever dude you’re boning who ‘done goofed’ and ‘did you wrong’ and write about that. Because this kiss-and-tell, perfect little princess who got her heart broken schtick is getting super old.
Also getting super old? Her sweet, wistful, starry eyed teen queen image! I guarantee you that the music video for one of her songs off this new travesty of an album is going to feature Ms. Swifty running through the halls of a high school, her glossy blonde ringlets swishing and flowing all over the freaking place until I vomit.
TAYLOR. YOU ARE ALMOST TWENTY-ONE. YOU ARE NO LONGER IN HIGH SCHOOL. THE JIG IS FREAKING UP, GIRLFROND.
Instead of always singing about how boys are gorgeous and like angels and their smile makes you feel all special and warm and fuzzy inside, and how you’re soooo much better than their girlfriends, and how everything in their lives would be better if they just pulled their heads out of their asses and kissed you so you could both live happily ever after, try growing the hell up.
Your fan base would follow you. They’d like it. Hell, I’d probably like it, and I’m not even part of your core fan base. (I like Kanye West, the Decemberists, She & Him, and Of Montreal…and also Dean Martin. THAT is where my taste in music currently is. No room for pretty pop princesses.)
Okay, so since I just spent forever ragging on her, I shall say some nice things.
This chick is adorable. She’s obviously found a look that works for her – curly hair, red lips, simple but dramatic eyes, cowboy boots & sundresses, and sweetheart necklines in jeweltones or silver. (Just a general run-down of her fashion choices since she first hit the scene, not what she wears in every ensemble, because then she’d just look/sound like a clown.)
Aside from whatever I might say about her personality based on how she writes super catty things about her exes and their new girlfriends in her songs, the girl has proved to be quite generous and compassionate, what with donating all that money to her hometown of Nashville after the floods. I was in Nashville shortly after she donated the money, after they’d mounted a huge recovery effort after the floods. That city still needs a lot of help, but it’s getting there. It’s bouncing back. And Taylor had a lot to do with it. Good for her for using her fame and her fortune to help those less fortunate and to honor her roots. Classy, Miss Swift.
So let’s look at some LOLs!
All right, guys, we’ve had our fun. Let’s get down to business. Here’s the Swifty outfit I’m replicating today:
And here, dear friends, is what I did with it. (I always want to call you guys ‘Gentle Readers,’ like in that old-timey British way, but you’d probably find out where I live and come throw rancid tomatoes at me. HOW GENTLE ARE WE NOW, you’d ask as I cowered.)
And I forgot to include it in the picture, but it’s included in the price up there: a necklace similar to Taylor’s square pendant on a long chain.
Eh. It was the only square-ish necklace I could find that wasn’t completely ugly looking or too short to work with that cowl-neck.
But the rest of the outfit is super simple. I found a pair of skinny jeans, tucked them into a pair of black fake-leather boots, and picked this long-sleeved, cowl-necked red and navy striped tunic top. And all for under $100! I am awesome at all things.