So, this happened. Just chilling with Taylor Swift and 50,000 of her biggest fans at Ford Field. No biggie.
PSYCH!!!!!! I was so pumped the entire day I could not stop breaking out into random, maniacal laughter. Luckily I was not alone. Downtown Detroit abounded with screeching girls dressed to the nines, all hoping to score a spot at the T-Party--the coveted after party for hardcore fans to meet Taylor and the band. There's pizza and foosball and squeals and tween weeping. I loved the ladies below and really hope they made it to the T-Party. Also, I was so not this cute when I was in middle school. Jealous.
When we finally made it into the bowels of Ford Field, some tween guy was on stage dancing with his crew. His name was Austin Mahone. He is apparently famous? The squeals were unbelievable. He was followed by Ed Sheeran of whom I know nothing except that he is British and sings a popular song called "The A-Team" and his mere presence incites a universe of squeals. We had to wait for a long time after his set. But before the natives got too restless, the stage began to transform into something worthy of calling itself the Red Tour, which had to be, in Taylor's words, "nothing like any other tour before." Amen.
And then Tay's intro music began and the jumbotrons started flashing her name. And then:
Silhouette!!! And singing!!! And screaming!!!!!! Oh, how we screamed. Taylor knows drama. She held that crowd of 50,000 in the palm of her hand. She was like the bestie we all dream of having, dishing and preening and giggling like we were all at the best sleep over in the history of sleep overs.
Also, she had no fewer than a dozen costume changes. She did crazy amazing things like dissappear through a trap door wearing shorts and then reappear a second later standing at the top of her elegant stairway set wearing a sequined ball gown. She, along with a bunch of dancers/bodyguards, walked straight down the middle of the field, amidst hoards of fans, and ended up on a smaller stage poised at the very back of the arena, just to play for the screaming girls sitting in the nosebleed section. She wore a bedazzled top hat and equally bedazzled circus coat.
The finale was everything a circus dream could hope for: masquerade-esque dancers? Check! Top hat wearing folks dancing on stilts? Double check! Confetti bombs and pyrotechnics? Check, check, and check. I don't know who produced this show but it was pure genius from start to finish. Warren even grudgingly admitted that T. Swift was ridiculously awesome. Girlfriend sang (really well, without apparent lip sync-ing!), danced, and flirted through the two hours and we left feeling a little brighter and a lot more bedazzled. I mean, how could we not, after witnessing this:
Note: I had Warren crunch some numbers to see how many guys were present at Taylor's concert. His very technical method of napkin math concluded that guys were present at a rate of 2 per row--or about 10% of the audience. I guess math is good for something after all...
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