Pop-Princessatude

Last night, just as I was about to bury my sorrows in some noodles with soy sauce and tuna (I have the weirdest comfort food), Ember called me up, crying.

One thing led to the next and I found myself at the Pepsi Center (sports stadium/humongo concert venue) preparing to see, of all people, Taylor Swift.

I'm not a fan of country, nor of her particular brand of pop, but Em had sounded so devastated over the phone that I agreed to go with her. Hell, free concert? I'm there. I'll try anything once.

The concert was more interesting than enjoyable, and I found myself paying more attention not to the songs Taylor sung, but how she sang them. She's peppy and charismatic, and her concert was well-staged, but underneath all of her pop-princessatude I could tell she was actually grateful to be where she was.

What really struck me is how gorgeous she is. Not like, dayummm-I-wanna-get-inside-that gorgeous, but like wow-just-wow gorgeous. She's got this porcelain doll thing going and her hair seemed to be impossible to mess up.

What really amazed me is how devoted her fans were. The stadium was sold out (15,000 seats! Jeez!) and the crowd was loud as fuck. Denver crowds are usually louder and bouncier than most, but this was like a whole new level. People brought signs and wore t-shirts and were jumping around for the whole show.

It all got me thinking, how great would it be to be in her shoes? The show brought me back to the days before I knew how the world worked and I found myself wondering how amazing it would be to be alone on a huge stage, commanding a stadium; to perform in front a huge crowd like that, all screaming and dancing, and to hear them sing the words of a song that I wrote back to me.

But then, there's always the scandals and paparazzi and everyone knowing your personal shit and the constant, unrelenting judgement from people who've never even met you. I don't know if it'd be worth it.

Fame is such a volatile thing, and, especially pertaining to musicians, can be so fleeting. As a naïve kid, I wanted my 15 minutes and didn't realize how harsh it would be when I would get to minute 16 and realize that someone else was the center of the media's attention. These days, I'm preparing to apply to Harvard, because the odds of me actually getting famous for anything become slimmer with each passing cigarette.

I'm still not a Taylor Swift fan, and probably never will be, but props to her for being able to inspire so many.
Julia