The Life Of A Showgirl by Taylor Swift // Album Review
A wise woman once said, "You're only as hot as your last hit, baby!" - and nothing makes that feel more painfully true than the reception to Taylor Swift's The Life of a Showgirl, arguably the most divisive and critically panned release of her entire career. For an artist of her caliber, especially someone who releases music as frequently as she does, there are bound to be misses in her catalog. It happens, and any artist with a decades‑long career is bound to have duds, especially one examined under a microscope in the way Taylor so often is. What makes this album stand out as particularly worse than some of the other misses is just how truly bad the weakest songs are.
For a project like this to come from a woman who has shown, time and time again, how much she's capable of, it feels so subpar and indicative of a wider problem in Taylor's career right now. The question I'm left with after hearing this album is why? Why does she feel the need to keep churning out work that feels half‑baked just to maintain her place at the top - a pattern that, to me, is becoming her downfall as an artist. That has been the issue with her last few album releases, but nothing compares to the sheer egregiousness of The Life of a Showgirl. Sure, she can sell four million copies in a single week, but what does any of it mean when it's all just manufactured hype?
After a certain point, there's nowhere else to go once you're already at the top. She's a multi‑billionaire, has several of the highest‑selling albums of all time, the highest‑selling tour of all time, and the highest everything of all time. At some point in the past few years especially there has been a significant shift in her overall output when she began to only prioritize quantity over quality, because there are people - myself included - that will pretty much eat up anything she tries to sell us, but The Life of a Showgirl is the prime example of what happens when it gets to be too much. This album feels like the result of having no one around her who's willing to give actual constructive feedback or push her sound in a direction that's worth the listener's time at all.
To sell your fanbase something just for the sake of it, instead of taking time away and putting out music with intention behind is one of the most hollow things an artist can do. This is not even just a problem with Taylor alone, either - there are plenty of artists that are oversaturating their own market and its absolutely starting to show in their art too. There's no doubt that Taylor has influenced an entire generation of songwriters with her work, there are quite a few very popular artists right now that were very evidently inspired by her in countless ways, but are releasing music of higher quality and impact than Taylor right now. All of these marketing tactics may put her ahead some in terms of chart placements or sales, but it's not pushing ahead the culture in the way so much of her music has in the past. Again, this pattern is what will ultimately be her downfall, and it's already putting her behind the very artists that, in many ways, got the map from her. It risks tarnishing her very well-earned legacy by making it all feel falsified if this is all she's going to be doing from now on with her music. If it's just for business, at least don't make fools of your fans and listeners.
If done properly, the showgirl aesthetic could have been such an interesting concept for Taylor to tap into thematically, because no one else truly knows the life of a showgirl in the way she does. If anything, all of her other albums are more focused realizations of that very concept. Honestly, The Tortured Poets Department is a better showcase of this very specific version of the showgirl life in every conceivable way. All of her work thus far has been painting the portrait of the life of a showgirl, so how did we lose the plot so significantly when it came time to write the definitive conceptual album of that experience? For her to take on all of that potential only for this album to not connect in any meaningful way is disheartening. And the fact that, a year later, I for the first time pretty much haven't returned to a single song from this album is also disappointing and sad as a lifelong fan.
Maybe that's the irony of the era itself - even without any overt glamorous showgirl themes, the frantic, desperate need to keep releasing, keep outperforming the competition, and keep deflecting any and all criticism is exactly the life this showgirl has been living all along.
There are very few redeemable qualities to be derived from the listening experience of The Life of a Showgirl. Any time a decent moment appears, it's almost immediately outshined by some of the most insane creative and lyrical choices of her entire career. Much of it is built on outdated and out‑of‑touch references and slang, with strangely spiteful undertones in certain songs that don't come off as empowered, but instead feel bitter toward the people she's writing about. Not to mention the bizarre innuendos that pop up repeatedly and are still shockingly bad every single time I hear them. It's obvious who she's trying to emulate in an effort to keep up with certain pop trends - with an artist like Sabrina Carpenter, who features on the title track, standing out as a repeated frame of reference. For better or worse, but mostly only just for the worse, she was also clearly trying to capture and mock the very specific bratty sort of attitude that Charli xcx has brought into the mainstream with her recent work too, which resulted in one of the most embarrassing songs of Taylor's career.
This album was made in collaboration with two of her frequent collaborators and pop‑producing pioneers, Max Martin and Shellback - both of whom have played major roles in crafting the sound of some of Taylor's biggest and most recognizable pop hits. They hadn't worked together in several years, but while she was on the European leg of The Eras Tour in 2024, she flew back and forth between shows to work with them in their studio in Sweden to record The Life of a Showgirl. More than anything, this album showcases the fatigued life of a showgirl - someone burning the candle at both ends to keep the machine rolling, which is not an inference as she has been quite open about how tired she was going back and forth every week to make this music. Instead, she should have taken the time to collect herself and come back more refreshed when she had something of substance to say.
The Life of a Showgirl was released a year after the massive 31‑song double album The Tortured Poets Department, which was also written while on first leg of The Eras Tour in 2023. That was a long, sprawling exploration of everything she was seemingly trying to do thematically with this album, but executed with far more intention overall. That record was deeply personal, dark, and self‑mythologizing in a way that has long defined her diaristic style of songwriting. A major criticism of TTPD that many share was that its very long tracklist at times felt self‑loathing and over‑indulgent for 31 songs, but it's not like The Life of a Showgirl isn't guilty of the exact same; she just managed to do all of that and more in 12 concise tracks.
The first three songs of the record actually show a semi‑promising start to the project as a whole. By no means are they some of Taylor's best work, but they do offer very small glimpses of what makes her such a distinctive artist, with certain melodies, lyrics, and motifs that still hint at the potential the record could have had. Instead, after the first quarter of the album, everything else largely misses the mark.
It opens with one of its strongest songs, "The Fate of Ophelia". It's a good lead single if you're able to overlook the ways in which Taylor takes the tragic Shakespearean figure of Ophelia and reshapes her into some sort of fairytale‑esque damsel in distress who needed a man to save her life. With her being a self‑proclaimed English teacher and taking that message away from Ophelia's story is probably among the worst thematic choices on the entire album - not to mention the implications of Taylor likening herself to such a character trope in the first place and the ridiculous message that sends to her audience made up of mostly young women and girls.
To look past all of that though and just listening to it mindlessly, it is a catchy song, albeit filled with some glaringly bad lyrics. "Keep it 100 on the land, the sea, the sky," she sings in the chorus, "pledge allegiance to your hands, your team, your vibe".
As someone who once never wanted her personal relationships or the men in her life to overshadow the art she was making, Taylor absolutely threw so much of that out the window in such a drastic way over the last couple of years. I truly just want to know what happened to the person who once wrote, "In your life you'll do things greater than dating the boy on the football team".
Yes, she has always written about her relationships, but it never felt as male‑centered as it does now. It used to feel like it was still her story to tell, rooted in her own experiences and her own perspective. Now it's swung so far in the other direction, but without any of the depth or nuance that defined her past work. The people in her life she once wrote about so vividly used to feel like fully fleshed‑out characters with substance and reflections of specific moments in time. To be able to explain with such elegance why the city screams their name or why the twin flame bruise painted them blue was such a distinctive talent Taylor held. But now, the most she can come up with - about the man she literally married - is pledging allegiance to his vibe.
"Elizabeth Taylor" is one of the only true embodiments of the showgirl theme on this album, especially with it being an homage to such an iconic actress and fixture in Hollywood history. The glamorous, luxurious and showy aspects of what it takes to be the kind of larger than life entertainer that Elizabeth Taylor and Taylor Swift are is so well represented on this song. It's reminiscent of some of the glittering darkness that defined Reputation nearly a decade ago, the last time the she collaborated with Max Martin and Shellback, but here that edge is filtered through a more cinematic lens. She takes an Old Hollywood approach, with specific callouts to Elizabeth Taylor's iconography surrounding her life.
The chorus of the song itself is even a reference to Elizabeth Taylor's trademark violet eyes, which is another detail tied to her mythology. While her eyes were likely more of a deep blue that was accentuated by makeup and lighting, the imagery is beautiful nonetheless and absolutely one of her defining traits. "If you ever leave me high and dry, I'd cry my eyes violet, Elizabeth Taylor, tell me for real, do you think it's forever?" Taylor sings in the chorus. She uses Elizabeth Taylor as a metaphor for her own life in many ways, drawing parallels to the extremely public existence they've both lived in front of millions of people, especially when it comes to the constant commentary surrounding her relationships and, in particular, Elizabeth's eight marriages. The comparison is so layered in that way, not only acknowledging the scrutiny they've both endured, but also recognizing that this is the life she wanted. She does bask in the attention and the luxury that comes with all of it, yet there's still a deep desire for someone to love her for who she really is. It's an interesting dichotomy introduced on this song, one that speaks to the unique type of cultural spectacle they have both been known for.
"Opalite" follows, which is a bubbly and sweet song about two people finding light in each other after a particularly dark period. At its best, it's a generic, mild pop song; one that's not particularly catchy, but not painful to listen to in the way some of the other tracks on this album are. At its worst, it's a far cry from every other love song she's written, and part of a growing trend in her work that feels increasingly hollow.
There are a few other middle‑of‑the‑road pop songs scattered throughout the album, which still do have a few questionable moments lyrically, yet are generally fine for what they are - like "Wi$h Li$t" and "Honey". The biggest critique is that there is just no personality or heart in any of them and are devoid of every trait that has ever defined her greatest work. There is no specificity to any of the love songs, which is so abnormal for a songwriter like Taylor because she has been known to write far more romantic, emotional songs about someone she had a two week fling with than her actual husband. "Have a couple kids, got the whole block lookin' like you," she sings in the chorus of "Wi$h Li$t". "Got me dreamin' 'bout a driveway with a basketball hoop".
It's hard because so much of this album feels like Taylor going against every instinct she's ever stood for in her art, the specifics of which I will continue to point out, but the incredibly basic melodies, predictable rhymes, and a complete lack of the emotional specificity that once defined her is completely absent on this album. Some of these songs sound like parodies of what a Taylor Swift song is supposed to sound like, with those jokes people make about her being surface‑level now having more than enough substantial material to point to.
After the reasonable start to the album, things start to go downhill fast for the rest of The Life of a Showgirl. From this point forward, most of the songs are some of the worst of her entire career back to back to back. "Father Figure" interpolates George Michael's classic of the same name, but does so in a way that feels lyrically ambiguous and vacant of any real emotion. It's a song about power imbalance, specifically in the music industry and seemingly alludes to the well‑documented situation of Taylor losing the rights to her masters, re‑recording her catalog, and fighting publicly for ownership of her life's work.
For her Taylor's Version journey to have been such a massive and defining chapter of her career, especially in recent years, many were looking forward to hearing more insight or reflection on that accomplishment following her finally buying them back in early 2025. One would assume she'd have something insightful to say about the music industry, or about the impact of reclaiming the rights to her own art. Right?
Well, the most insightful thing she has to say about the entire situation now is: "I can make deals with the devil because my dick's bigger," repeated throughout the song's chorus. For her to have accomplished the mission she stood on her soapbox about for years - preaching about the fight for artistic autonomy and rallying her entire fanbase to support it exponentially - she finally gets what she wanted, and that's all she has to say?
Truly the worst song she has ever written follows as the fifth track. In the Taylor Swift universe, track fives are famous for being some of her most vulnerable and impactful pieces of songwriting and are the emotional centerpiece the album is often shaped around. More often than not, they're even the best song on the record. For context, songs like "Dear John", "All Too Well", "So Long, London", and "You're On Your Own, Kid" (to name only a few) are some of the most important entries in her catalog and earned the well‑deserved track‑five treatment. Hopes were high for "Eldest Daughter", with a title that alone suggested an evocative piece of songwriting about the defining experience of being a daughter, being a woman, and carrying a very specific weight in those two roles.
Instead, it starts with: "Everybody's so punk on the internet, everyone's unbothered 'til they're not, every joke's just trolling and memes, sad as it seems, apathy is hot". What is absolutely one of the worst lyrics she has ever written - and one I genuinely laughed out loud revisiting for this review because I had blocked out the entire song from my memory for the sake of my sanity - is sung with complete sincerity on the chorus of this dramatic ballad: "But I'm not a bad bitch, and this isn't savage".
Then in the pre-chorus she later sings, "Every eldest daughter was the first lamb to the slaughter, so we all dressed up as wolves and we looked fire". The quality of these lyrics truly speak for themselves. They read like engineered internet talking points; ones that are shallow and buzzword‑heavy, all while offering no real perspective or depth. The slang is dated and stuck in an era from a decade ago at least, but even the music she was making back then has aged far better than this. For someone who pretends she's so far removed from online discourse and critiques, this song proves the opposite is actually true and shows just how incredibly defensive she gets about any criticism that gets directed her way.
What makes "Eldest Daughter" even more frustrating to listen to is how completely it lacks the depth found in other songs that explore the daughter archetype with nuance - recent songs like "Favourite Daughter" by Lorde, "Kill Me" by Hayley Williams, "Hurt Feelings" by Halsey, or even "Pink Pony Club" by Chappell Roan all come to mind for fitting this very specific category. Those songs capture the specificity of being a daughter, and the larger connections and pressures between parent and child. "Eldest Daughter" does absolutely none of that. By the final verse, it once again pivots back to a male‑focused narrative, which is something that has never felt like such a dominating force in her music until now.
Other than the emptiness of the disappointment, most of this album didn't evoke much from me emotionally - which is saying a lot coming from someone who has been moved to tears by several of her albums in the past. Most of it is just... nothing. The only song that captures even a glimmer of Taylor's talent for storytelling is "Ruin the Friendship". It is also the most out-of-place on The Life of a Showgirl, mainly due to its placement on the tracklist, but it is still a strong piece of songwriting that actually evokes some sort of meaningful emotion from the listener.
The song looks back on her high school days and the way time can make you lose track of people who were once important to you, wishing you had done more or said more before everything changed forever. It's about the one that got away, the friend she never confessed her feelings to, only to find out years later that he passed away. "Ruin the Friendship" is a nostalgic and moving rumination on grief and the ways in which that loss continues to affect her many years later.
"When I left school, I lost track of you, Abigail called me with the bad news," she sings in the bridge, "Goodbye and we'll never know why". It's deeply connected to the heartbreaking loss that inspired the vault track "Forever Winter" on Red, which she wrote soon after learning about his passing.
The lyrical shift in the final verse is so emotional; "It was not an invitation, but I flew home anyway with so much left to say, it was not convenient but I whispered at the grave 'should've kissed you anyway'". "My advice is always ruin the friendship, better that than regret it for all time," Taylor sings. "And my advice is always answer the question, better that than to ask it all your life".
So what's the best way to follow up a deeply emotional song about a close friend that passed away at a young age? A Charli xcx diss track, of course! "Actually Romantic" is yet another contender for the worst song Taylor has ever written. It's a lame attempt at clapping back at Charli's "Sympathy is a knife", a song that she never once explicitly said is about Taylor - even though it is largely believed to be - it doesn't even paint her in a negative light at all. That song was written as a reflection of Charli's own insecurities, her internal spiral, and the pressures she puts on herself as a woman in the music industry, especially within a landscape where women are constantly pitted against each other.
On "Sympathy is a knife", Charli is refreshingly honest about the overwhelming jealousy and emotional confusion that comes with feeling like she could never live up to another pop star's level of fame or success; while also knowing she probably doesn't want to anyway. It's a song about grappling with her own internal dialogue, not a takedown of anyone else. The way she depicts that emotional cycle is so poignant on the chorus in particular. "'Cause I couldn't even be her if I tried, I'm opposite, I'm on the other side, I feel all these feelings I can't control," she sings.
BRAT is full of moments like "Sympathy is a knife", and it's not the only time Charli explores the complexities of being a woman in the industry or the nuances of female friendships. "Girl, so confusing" also touched on the universal feeling of wondering why she and one of her other peers in music never clicked as friends, even though she knows they'd have so much in common but something continues to get lost in translation between them. That song was widely understood to be about Lorde, which Charli later also confirmed. Instead of releasing a diss track a year and a half later and misconstruing the entire meaning of the song, Lorde chose to "work it out on the remix" a few weeks later by offering her own perspective with vulnerability and honesty. It resulted in one of the most beautiful, full‑circle moments in recent pop music history, with two incredible artists choosing to take accountability and prioritize art over ego.
The story that unfolded between Charli and Lorde is the complete opposite of what happened between Charli and Taylor. Taylor's response comes off far more vindictive and jealous than "Sympathy is a knife" ever did. For Taylor to approach "Actually Romantic" from the vantage point of being so unbothered, so above it all, pretending she's far removed from the conversation is laughable. The lyrics leaked a few days before the album dropped, and I think many crossed their fingers that these lyrics weren't real, but sadly they were! It goes beyond the cringe of the other lyrics I've highlighted throughout this review. It genuinely comes off as spiteful, especially since she not only took the complete opposite message from the original song, but also chose to dig the drama back up long after the moment had passed. To bring something this petty and misread back into the conversation feels like a pathetic use of her time.
"I heard you call me 'Boring Barbie' when the coke's got you brave, high-fived my ex and then you said you're glad he ghosted me," she sings in the opening lines. "But it's actually sweet, all the time you've spent on me, it's honestly wild, all the effort you've put in," Taylor continues in the chorus. For her to pretend that a song like "Sympathy is a knife" is somehow beneath her when she's written at least a dozen songs, including "thanK you aIMee" the year prior, about a decade‑long feud that has been mostly one‑sided since that time is hypocritical to say the least.
Not enough bad things can be said about how monotonous and uninspired Max Martin and Shellback's production is here too, with "Actually Romantic" standing out as one of the worst offenders. It sounds like a corny mash‑up of "Beverly Hills" by Weezer and "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheatus, paired with the weird, unbothered bad‑girl attitude she's trying so hard to channel - which ends up just coming off as childish.
"You think I'm tacky, baby, stop talking dirty to me, it sounded nasty, but it feels like you're flirting with me," Taylor sings in the bridge. "I mind my business, God's my witness that I don't provoke it, it's kind of making me wet". The last line is just comically bad and one of many in a string of hypersexualized and out of place lyrics that are scattered throughout the album.
Speaking of out‑of‑place and hypersexual lyrics, it all comes to a climax on "Wood". It's meant to be a song about letting go of superstitions in her relationship, but the playful innuendo quickly becomes excessive and comes off more like a parody of what the definitive Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce love song would sound like, while lacking any of the qualities one would expect from her as a songwriter.
"Forgive me, it sounds cocky, he ah-matized me and opened my еyes," she sings in the chorus. "Redwood tree, it ain't hard to see, his love was thе key that opened my thighs". I truly never thought I would live to see the day that Taylor Swift writes a song implying the word "dickmatized" in it, yet here we are!
"The New Heights of manhood" line is also just a little bit too on the nose, especially when the most romantic lyrics she wrote on this album about him are just built around references to football, his podcast, and... his dick? I've been saying I miss the specificity of her lyricism, but this is the opposite problem, it's sort of too specific and too aware of exactly who she's singing about. Much of it isn't even that clever or funny either, doing fifteen penis innuendos in a row isn't as clever or sexy as she thinks it is. "Girls, I don't need to catch the bouquet to know a hard rock is on the way" and "The curse on me was broken by your magic wand" are two more of the stand-out lyrical moments of this song.
She's trying so desperately to have her own "Juno" moment with "Wood", but Taylor can't suddenly try to embody that style when her tone as a songwriter has always largely been the complete opposite. It ends up feeling forced and awkward, while Sabrina's style of writing feels rooted in her personality and distinct overall persona.
All of this is sung over a cheap knockoff Jackson 5 beat, which makes it even worse. Don't preach about stolen art and fair compensation for artists for the past decade and then turn around and release a subpar album with half the songs containing glaringly obvious, uncredited interpolations of other artists' work. (She still gets the bragging rights for the unnecessary George Michael writing credit, though!)
I’ve said this several times at this point, but "CANCELLED!" might actually be the worst song Taylor has ever written. I almost don't even know where to start because it's bad on a level I truly never thought possible for her. To preface: she is obviously no stranger to cringe or weird lyrics - that's often part of her charm, and she's incorporated those quirks throughout her career in countless ways. Even her most recent work, The Tortured Poets Department, is full of them: "You smoked, then ate seven bars of chocolate, we declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist" and "You know how to ball, I know Aristotle" stand out as just two examples.
But think of any cringe Taylor Swift lyric pre‑Showgirl and "CANCELLED!" will undoubtedly blow it out of the water. At least in past moments, there was almost always a redeemable quality to the song that kept it from being the worst thing ever written. This is not one of those cases.
It is meant to explore themes of cancel culture and, more broadly, celebrity culture as a whole, rooted in her positioning herself as some sort of misunderstood villain. It sounds like a corny Disney‑villain theme song, except it's not menacing in the slightest. The production is truly horrible, coming off as a cheap knockoff of Billie Eilish's dark‑pop style, paired with a very close resemblance to Lorde's "Yellow Flicker Beat".
In the pre‑chorus she asks, "Did you girlboss too close to the sun?" - which I cannot believe is a real lyric.
The main hook of the song is just as horrible, "Good thing I like my friends cancelled, I like 'em cloaked in Gucci and in scandal," she sings repeatedly throughout. "Welcome to my underworld where it gets quite dark, at least you know exactly who your friends are, they're the ones with matching scars".
The main question this song presents is: who is this even directed toward? Because the only people she publicly associates with who were so called "cancelled" for the most part are not worth putting your reputation on the line for, nor people she should be comparing "matching scars" with. Especially when one of the first things that comes to mind are some of the subtle conservative‑leaning ideals that pop up throughout this album, which I hope aren't reflective of anything larger for Taylor, but are worth pointing out amidst this dangerous current political climate nonetheless. If she's instead trying to recapture the drama of a song like "Bad Blood" or "Look What You Made Me Do", that's one thing - but she leaves too much open for interpretation, inviting listeners and critics to read far too deeply into who she's supposedly defending.
The album ends with its title track, "The Life of a Showgirl", which channels some of the storytelling and world‑building of songs like "the last great american dynasty" or "The Lucky One". It's absolutely one of the best tracks on the album, but still suffers from the same issues that plague the other highlights - particularly the way the rhyme schemes sound painfully predictable, and just not up to par with the lyrical talent Taylor has proven she is capable of all these years. "Her name was Kitty, made her money being pretty and witty, they gave her the keys to this city, then they said she didn't do it legitly," she sings in the opening lines.
Taylor tells the story of a showgirl named Kitty, blending semi‑autobiographical elements into the tale. She begins as a fan of this glamorous star, going to see her perform, meeting her after the show, and declaring she wants to be just like her. Kitty then offers a cautionary tale about the cost of the spotlight and the sacrifices required to survive it.
"Wait, the more you play, the more that you pay, you're softer than a kitten, so you don't know the life of a showgirl, babe and you're never gonna wanna," Taylor sings in the chorus. There's a slight country twang to the delivery, and the song generally feels its at a slower tempo than it probably should be - yet it's also what I wish the entire Showgirl album sounded like. Even though the record is all over the place sonically, this track at least gestures toward the full realization of the desired aesthetic.
Sabrina Carpenter's feature feels so fitting too. She's the face of this new generation of pop stars who live out the "pretty and witty" ethos the song depicts - not to mention her role as an Eras Tour opener as well is such a special connection. Her work is so deeply rooted in Taylor's influence that the collaboration feels kismet, a full‑circle moment: Taylor once served as the showgirl figure Sabrina looked up to, and now they both "know the life of a showgirl" after all.
Midway through, the song shifts as Taylor and Sabrina step into the role themselves - acknowledging the relentless sacrifices that come with the showgirl life, yet standing by the fact that they wouldn't trade it for anything. It connects back to "Elizabeth Taylor" in that way, reflecting on fame as this crucial piece of her identity. The ending is particularly special, closing with crowd recordings from the final show of The Eras Tour, recorded in Vancouver in 2024, bringing the very specific narrative of her life that this music is rooted in to an official close.
While this album presents an interesting concept on the surface, that's where much of its promise ends. The Life of a Showgirl is, overall, an incredibly regressive project for Taylor - and unless she truly reevaluates the valid criticism she's been receiving about her recent approach to art, she runs the risk of heightening this echo chamber of her own opinions and falling into a pattern of increasingly worse music. That doesn't erase the better parts of this album or the generational brilliance of her career as a whole, but it is truly shocking just how far off-course so much of this record feels for her.
Thanks for reading! This was a bit of a different review than I usually post, especially considering I've written in such depth and detail about nearly every single song and album Taylor has ever released, and can almost always find the redeemable aspects within them. This one was undoubtedly difficult to fully collect my thoughts on, and I've been writing it off and on for the better part of the last year. The release of the (also unfortunate) deluxe album finally sparked my motivation to come back and finish the main review - with my Encore review coming soon too. In the meantime, I have written about Taylor's music countless times over the years, all of which are linked here and below!
Photo Credit: Mert Alaş, Marcus Piggott, Taylor Swift. TAS Rights Management
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