We won't talk specifics but I'm over 25. I'm over 25 and I've definitely had three entirely sincere conversations about Taylor Swift in the past few weeks.
Yes, there have been talks. And I've shared these talks with people I grew up around. People who, for the most part, listened to punk, metal, and hardcore; folks I never would've dreamed might be professing their adoration of an adorable, blonde pop icon ... in mixed company, no less.
I'm here to tell you that times, they are a-changin'.
And it's weird, my friends. It's weird and wonderful.
We've debated Red Vs. 1989. We've discussed "Welcome To New York" and how incredible her Tribeca apartment must be and how we could never afford to live in her shoe closet but, hey, we're happy for her.
I've definitely done that. That's how I've spent my time.
To assuage any discombobulation, I offer you this distraction: photo of Taylor and baby kitten Meredith. As in Doctor Meredith Gray. If you think that's impressive, please allow Google to show you Detective Olivia Benson.
|I found this image by searching but check out @taylorswift on the 'grams.|
They have their own monogrammed travel carriers, you guys.
I can't. I just can't.
|photo via the gloss|
Also, this is apparently a post I wrote in December of last year. And it's still here and it still holds true. Taylor Swift is still as punk as f*ck so I'm postin' it.
You can argue but I shan't hear it. Headphones, you guys.