The Eras Tour: Kayla’s Version
In my Eras-era until further notice.
For the last couple of weeks, my memories from The Eras Tour have been a dazzling haze of glitter, sequins, secret songs and heart hands. I have a feeling I’ll be in my Eras-era for a little while longer. I’m still finding glitter in all kinds of places, and all of my memories are collaged in my mind, decorated in a glittery haze of lavender, maroon and splashes of gold. I want to set the table with the fancy shit, live for the hope of it all, with confetti falling to the ground forever. Allow me to break down how it all fell into my lap, like autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place, and a piece of confetti falling into Tim’s hand (more on that later).
For the longest time, I didn’t have tickets to The Eras Tour. The closer we got to the event, the more I grew concerned that I may not be able to go. Maybe someone else would’ve accepted that they weren’t going to an event that they didn’t have tickets to. But for me, that was just the beginning of my fight. If anyone asked me how I was going on the tickets front, I played it cool. “I’m a 31 year old woman, I’m capable of handling disappointment”, I would say with my eye twitching and sweat dripping down my face. Above all else, I always remained equal parts hopeful and delusional, and I believe that is largely what made it all work out in the end, leading me to attend two out of the four Sydney shows.
I had been LIVING on Ticketek Marketplace (the most soul crushing place on Earth) for several months after missing out on getting tickets when they first went on sale back in June 2023. Everyone else seemed to have moved on. Then there was me, right where you left me, iPhone in hand, Ticketek Marketplace loading and buffering during any spare moment I had. No matter how present I needed to be, how serious the moment was, I would still be glancing at Ticketek Marketplace. You best believe I was refreshing my browser as you were opening up about the worst thing that has ever happened to you. My theatric reactions, my enthusiastic nod, my frustrated gasps, were merely masquerading as active listening, but were really my reaction to getting locked out of Ticketek Marketplace.
So as you can understand: I was getting desperate. Here’s how desperate: I prayed on the morning of the 2nd of February, 21 days before the first Sydney show. I first asked for world peace, and then I asked for tickets to The Eras Tour. I’m kidding, what actually happened was me laying on Tim’s chest, feeling close to defeat, wondering if it was time to start the grieving process. He stroked my hair, and my breath followed his rising stomach. “Hey, is anyone listening?” I called out half-joking-half-serious addressing the angels, the universe, Taylor herself. “If I am meant to attend this concert, I need HELP!” Tim laughed, before looking at me the way you would if a toddler fell over. I continued with my one-way conversation. “Actually no, don’t worry about it. You’re busy. I’ll figure it out”. Tim suggested we get some fresh air. I decided to let it go, but remained hopeful. “We could even just hang outside the venue and sing”, Tim suggested. I began to warm up to the possibility of that.
And then at 1:19pm later that day: “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I think it’s a go” my friend Claudia texted me, with a screenshot showing her friend selling two A Reserve tickets to the Saturday night Sydney show. I didn’t know the person selling the tickets, but Claudia, who I have known since we sat together on the bus in high school, assured me that this person was real, and they were indeed selling their tickets. I had been reading about all the people getting scammed out of tickets, so I was hopeful, but understandably doubtful. I held my breath, never fully allowing myself to feel the excitement. I had been disappointed before, and I needed to protect myself (yes, I’m still talking about a concert). The seller didn’t want to sell the tickets via Ticketek Marketplace, but to someone they knew was a big fan. Claudia bridged the gap for the both of us, and vouched for me, declaring me as a massive Swiftie from day one. The seller was potentially giving the tickets to someone else, when I offered to pay more than the asking price.
In order to secure the tickets, I had to call the seller over the phone. I would normally dread having to call someone, but I called her within seconds of getting her number off Claudia. Tim and I often joke about how daily mundane tasks can overwhelm me, but that I’m great in a crisis. The emergency: this may be my only chance at getting Eras Tour tickets. “I’m surprised I haven’t met you before” she whispered, trying not to wake her sleeping baby. “Oh sorry, I’ll whisper too” I told her, before she lets me know her baby cannot hear me through the phone. “I don’t usually go to group events”, I shared in attempt to explain why we haven’t met before, regretting saying so as soon as I do. I needed her to think I was normal, and between comments like that, and my heavy breathing, I was worried I may screw it up. She told me she was selling the tickets because she has a newborn baby, and didn’t think it would be the right environment for them. Plus, they had learned that the baby would need to have their own ticket. Now, I don’t know this baby, but there’s one thing I know for sure: this baby is a blessing.
We ended the phone call almost feeling like new friends, with me sharing pictures of my outfit that I had prematurely organised. She had said that she felt the universe was telling her these weren’t her tickets, and somehow, despite the odds, they felt like they were meant to be mine. I texted everyone who I thought would care with the news, several exclamation marks were used. Everyone was shocked and thrilled for me with echoing sentiments of “I’m so so happy for you” and “It all worked out. You deserve this”. I certainly don’t go through my life feeling like the world owes me something, but maybe it did owe me these tickets. I celebrated by going for a walk to get a smoothie with Tim. The sun seemed brighter, there was a glow on the pavement, I felt like dancing in a storm in my best dress Fearless.
“NOW TO THINK OUTFITS!” my friend Gabby messaged me after learning I had tickets. I had started planning my outfit, as part of my manifestation process, so I already had a sequinned skirt on the way. Then there was my quest to find the perfect white singlet to pair with my sequinned skirt (it took 3 attempts). I searched every store for eye gems, but they were sold out everywhere, until I went to Sephora and surprisingly received a gift with purchase: a collection of eye gems. I casually mentioned I was looking for glitter to my hairdresser, and he offers to lend me his Mardi Gras kit, full of metallic eyeshadows, body glitter and sparkles. “Everything keeps working out so perfectly”, I said to Tim, feeling equal parts gratitude and disbelief. Tim and I went to one of the early merch stands ahead of Tay Tay Long Weekend, in an attempt to lessen our queue times and also lean into the festivities. Everything felt exciting and magical. I had what I imagine pre-wedding jitters to be, except I wasn’t a bride, but maybe just a little fucked in the head.
Amid all of the excitement, my sister Melissa surprised me with tickets to the Monday night show, as a birthday/Christmas present. She had organised it before I had tickets to the Saturday show, because she was sad thinking that I would miss out. I would be going to the Monday night show with my Mum and two of my sisters. After my blood, sweat, and tears went into trying and failing to get tickets for months and months, getting tickets to two shows within two weeks of each other, was kind of a spiritual awakening for me. For a very long time, I thought I wasn’t going, so I knew my only obligation was to truly soak up every moment of the experience, and be grateful to have been so lucky. I could have well and truly have not have gone at all, and that was not lost on me. My sister Melissa is now also my favourite sister, and I’m sure my others sisters understand why. I may have thrown a candle at her at 13, and she may have told me that I was so fat that I needed to go to Jenny Craig, but all is forgiven now.
The excitement around Taylor arriving in Sydney was unlike anything I had felt since experiencing the Sydney Olympics in 2000. Taylor had played her biggest show ever at the MCG in Melbourne, playing to 96,000 people three nights in a row, and Sydney was excitedly awaiting her arrival. Sydney trains played her music and dubbed itself the Tay Tay Express, Central Station was Taylor-themed with large Taylor posters for people to take pictures in front of, and the was clock lit up paying homage to Midnights. Local businesses hosted Taylor-themed parties and trivia nights, hoping to cash in on the hype. I couldn’t go to a cafe, or even a department store without hearing her music, or overhearing a conversation about her. I joked to friends that I would start my morning walks again given how close The Crown Hotel in Barangaroo, where Taylor was staying, is to where I live (don’t worry, I didn’t, because I respect her privacy, and more so, I’m too lazy).
For us diehard fans, the excitement extended to the shows we didn’t attend, and consisted of following live streams and texting friends who were in attendance. A moment I won’t forget is Tim and I being cuddled up in bed watching a live stream of the Friday night show, and singing along to the White Horse x Coney Island mashup, with the lyrics coming out of my mouth before my brain could catch up to what song I was even singing. Our neighbours got quite the vocal performance, full of harmonies and raw emotion. I’m sure those of them who missed out on Eras Tour tickets appreciated getting the next best thing. I saw online that Katy Perry was in attendance, alongside Rita Ora and Travis Kelce. I texted my friend Gabby, who was there: “Two major obsessions from my formative years coming together lmao hope you’re having the best time!!!!!” and she replied during the concert “Cannot believe I just watched her perform Bad Blood with Katy Perry in the audience”.
Amidst all of this excitement, I had booked in to get my nails done on the Friday before the show. “Are you going tonight?” the girl sitting beside me asked me, with red glittery nails. I didn’t need to humour her with a “Going where?” response. I knew exactly what she was talking about, with her Red inspired nails. “I used to get bullied for liking Taylor, but now she’s the cool thing” I said to her. “Yeah, I had a friend post on Instagram about being a fan from 2006, and that it’s annoying how people are just jumping on the bandwagon now”, she told me. “Yeah, that was me from my anonymous account” I joked, but she looked at me as though she was unsure if I was kidding or not. We go on to talk about secret songs, and I told her how I would be happy with anything, but would be thrilled with anything from Speak Now. “Because there’s hardly any Speak Now songs on the setlist” she says, finishing my sentence. I realised sharing our excitement over the concert gave us confidence and freedom to make new friends, with the comfort of a shared interest, without any lulls in the conversation. I sensed the other people in the salon were listening in on our conversation. I would normally refrain from talking loudly in a public place, but much about this experience has been me getting comfortable with proudly owning what I love, and not taking on the negative connotations and projections that can come along with liking Taylor Swift.
Fast forward to Saturday, or for me, Tay Tay Day. Now, usually I’m terrible at getting out of bed in the morning, but on Saturday, I jumped out of bed. I woke up to text messages about it being Tay Tay Day, and scrolled through Instagram Stories taken at the concert the night before. I started getting ready at 2pm, which was ridiculous, but I was worried that if anything went wrong with my makeup, it would be best for me to have plenty of time to spare. I took my time, enjoying dance breaks, donut eating breaks, and reminding myself to stay calm and soak in every moment of my special day. “Too many eye gems???” I messaged the group chat with my Mum and sisters, accompanied with a picture of me wearing way too many eye gems. I had underestimated my friends’ Mardi Gra glitter glue: I was covered in holographic glitter, and I left a trail of it everywhere I went.
When Tim and I arrived at Accor Stadium, the vibe was electric, and everyone was in good spirits: posing for photos, excited for the night to unfold. A Mum and her young daughter passed us as we tried and take a selfie together outside the stadium and offered to take a photo of us. I was feeling a little anxious and overwhelmed, and her kind gesture really settled me, reminding me to get into the spirit of the night. She even went to the effort to kneel on the ground, giving us landscape and portrait options, from different angles (“That’s what you should be doing when you take photos of me”, I gently reminded Tim). I ended up giving away my very first friendship bracelet to the little girl. It was a bracelet that a friend had given me months ago, which had yellow stars and pink beads, with round lettered beads that spelled out Karma.
I looked around, in a blood-soaked sequin skirt, observing my surroundings and people-watching. There were heart-shaped sunglasses, glow in the dark cowboy hats, pastel dresses, bedazzled boots. Little girls were asking to take pictures with two ladies who were dressed in professionally made corsets, closely resembling the one Taylor wore during the Lover era. “Oh, it’s Taylor and Travis!” the Mum laughed, acknowledging her sequinned 87 jersey, and the other lady’s close resemblance of Taylor. Compliments were exchanged, photos were taken, memories were being made in real-time.
The next 3.5 hours went by so quickly. Tim and I didn’t rest for the whole concert. For all the people who missed out on tickets, or were sitting out the front of the stadium, we were morally obligated to have the time of our lives. I can still picture the purple haze that coloured the stadium during Enchanted and Long Live. The lyrics of Long Live perfectly captured the feeling of the Eras-era. Being there felt like you were a part of history, and of something special. It was a big party, but it was also Taylor honouring all the past versions of her, and us doing the same for the versions of us that have grown up with her music.
Tim and I danced all night, pointing to each other during Shake it Off, hyping each other up for dance solos at various points during the song. We screamed “Sydney!” during Blank Space, paying homage to The 1989 World Tour, where the chant began. I fell to the ground when I realised that New Years Day was being mashed up with Should’ve Said No (a moment that Tim caught on video that is too cringe to share). I noticed the group of Mums ahead of us dancing to the more uptempo songs: I don’t think they knew a single lyric, but they seemed to be having the time of their lives. A group of young girls a few rows ahead of us scream-sang the lyrics to Betty and Vigilante Shit, wearing dresses shaped like pastries and their hair tightly curled and covered in glitter. The women behind us sang extra loud during All Too Well and My Tears Ricochet, prompting me to wonder who had hurt them. To my far left, in a different section off seats, I noticed an elderly woman sitting down, and I wondered what she thought of the show. I chose to pee during 22 when I realised I wasn’t selected for the 22 hat, because I’m not an adorable child.
I had been preparing myself emotionally for Majorie. After losing my Nanna little over a year ago, it was hard to listen to the lyrics being performed live without bawling. I decided to surrender to my emotion, and allow myself to feel what I needed to feel. Tears were streaming down my face, as I looked around the stadium lit up with iPhone torches. Tim hugged me hard after the song, because he knew what the song meant to me. Most of the show is loosely scripted, but Taylor went off script to say that she felt connected to the audience during that performance. “You guys really got me there” Taylor said with a shaken voice, and lump in her throat. It made me think about all the people there who could relate to the song, and about what it must feel like for Taylor to hear people singing back the lyrics she wrote about her late grandmother. I thought about the energy exchange at the concert, and if I was feeling it, maybe others, and maybe even Taylor, was too. The concert ended with fireworks, loud applause and confetti. A few pieces of confetti flew over the top of our seats, but every time I reached for one, I missed. Tim ended up effortlessly catching one, before tapping me on the shoulder, holding a single piece of blue confetti, and giving it to me with a soft smile. I’m often unsure what my love language is, but in that moment, I knew it was: heroic capturing of blue confetti at a Taylor Swift concert.
Then: 83,000 surging out of the stadium at once. My feet were aching in my boots, as we navigated the crowd, heading for the train home. Tim suggested we kept left, and aim to get on the carriage the furthest away, as most people were lining up in the carriages closest to the stadium. His navigation and logistics skills get us on one of the first trains home, and we found a seat to rest our sore bodies. I could see the people in front of me watching their concert videos back on their iPhones. I realise they must have had floor seats because their view was incredible. I decide they were undeserving, with no evidence to support my claim. Tim and I cuddle up, feeling content and grateful. The guy sitting to the right of Tim, started to doze off and fell into Tim’s lap. “Oh, sorry mate”, he said as his body shocked him awake. “Ahh all good, man, it’s been a long night” Tim told him.
The next morning, I woke up sore, exhausted, happy. The people who say that you shouldn’t take videos at concerts because you will never watch them back have never met me. I love re-living memories, and when everyone else has moved on, I’m still at the restaurant. With that being said, Bad Blood is what Tim and I have, after I watched back the countless videos he took of my side profile.
“Idk how Taylor does it night after night, and still has the energy to go to the ZOO and have a boyfriend. I’m EXHAUSTED” I texted my friend Gabby, referencing Taylor spending all of her days off at The Sydney Zoo near MOUNT DRUITT of all places. I have spent years running from my Western Sydney roots, but all of a sudden I wanted to head to MacArthur Square for old times’ sake, hoping to run into Tay getting lunch in the food court.
I was far more calm on Monday than I was ahead of the Saturday night show. I was grateful to be able to experience the show twice, and share it with my Mum and two of my sisters. I wore a hot pink fringe dress, with the same white cowgirl boots that I had worn two nights prior. My toes shrivelled up the second I put them on, like the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz, as if to say: not again!
This time around I was more focused on ensuring my Mum and sisters had the best time. I had the perfect concert experience on Saturday night with Tim, and I wanted the same for them. Tim wasn’t attending this show, but he was kind enough to offer to travel in with me on the train. He knows that I can sometimes get nervous travelling to events alone, so just him being there with me, made me feel calm and safe. As we shuffled our way to our seats, we joined a row of seats facing each other, where one seat was already taken. I sat directly across from someone, almost touching knees, and got to chatting. We learned her name was Hope and that she was visiting from Melbourne. Hope was attending the concert alone after missing out on tickets for the Melbourne shows. The conversation flowed comfortably as we talked about the Saturday show Tim and I attended, our picks for the secret songs, and our favourite Taylor albums. “I know people think it’s lame, but I really like Lover” Hope told us. She also shared that her seat had an obstructed view. “Well, maybe this is the show you were meant to be going to” I tell her, acknowledging the odds she had to overcome to attend a show. I usually feel a little apprehensive saying something spiritual like that to a stranger, but with a name like Hope, I thought it would be safe to do so. She seemed to resonate with that sentiment. Tim suggested I give a friendship bracelet to Hope, and I gave her one that said TS, with tiny coloured beads. When we get off the train we lead her in the direction to where her seats were, and I told her how I love her platform boots, which Tim noted were “Very Sabrina Carpenter coded” after having seen Sabrina wear the same boots for her opening set at the Saturday night show. I told her to make sure she drank lots of water, and Tim shared his hack for getting onto the train quickly after the show. Hope and I followed each other on Instagram before going our seperate ways for the night.
After taking some photos outside the venue, I said goodbye to Tim, and headed into the stadium where my Mum and two sisters were waiting for me. They all looked beautiful, with Lover-coded makeup and sequinned dresses. I took videos of my sister Emily dancing and singing, trying to capture perfect content for her Instagram Stories. We stood at top of the balcony, our arms draped over the rails during the Evermore set. I’m still having flashbacks to so much of the magic of that night: wrapping my arms around my Mum as we danced side to side to 22, jumping and scream-singing along to You Belong With Me with Emily, and Ashlee telling me about how her daughter, my five year old niece Chloe, cried when watching The Eras Tour Concert Film at the cinema. Apparently Chloe said “She looks like a princess” in between tears, when Taylor was performing The Last Great American Dynasty. I think Taylor must have got wind of all of my group chats, and wanted to end her Sydney run with the best secret songs ever for the acoustic set. We got a Would’ve Should’ve Could’ve x Ivy mashup on acoustic guitar, and a Maroon x Forever & Always mashup on piano. My phone started blowing up during the acoustic set. “YOU BITCH”, my friend Claudia messaged me for “stealing” her dream secret songs. With the live streams, it felt like all of my friends were there with me. I laughed checking my phone realising Tim had hung out the front of the stadium, with the Taylor-gaters, for a little bit before heading home: “Sounds so fun in there! Crowd outside was really cool too, I got some vids xx” his message read.
The next day I woke up and watched all the Instagram Stories from the night before. I saw that Hope, my new friend from the train, had posted that she had the best night of her life. I noticed in the photo that she posted of herself, that she kept on the friendship bracelet I had given her. I thought about all other people I had met along the way, and how each of them helped shaped my whole “Eras” experience. A big part of what has made this experience so fun has been connecting with people. Making friends on the train, watching live streams, going early for merch, texting my friends, sharing it all with Tim. It’s been so fun to geek out and to feel safe doing so. I thought about my Mum and sisters, and everything they have been through. They deserved to have fun that night. They deserved that night away from their worries. I loved seeing their eyes light up, as they watched the stage, the colours of the stadium reflected on their faces.
I have gotten so many eye rolls and passive aggressive comments from people over the years for being a Taylor Swift fan — people like to pretend they are too refined or educated to care, but it’s just misogyny and snobbery. To deny Taylor’s impact on the music industry and culture only shows us all the ways in which we still need to grow as a society. On a personal level, Taylor’s self-written lyrics have given a voice to my girlhood experience, and I’ve grown up with her. I’ve also had to overcome good-girl conditioning and Taylor has been a guiding light for me. My enthusiasm and passion for my interests often dismissed as frivolous. I think a lot of people who judge and put their noses up to pop music are rejecting something in themselves. Granted, you may genuinely not like the music, but surely you can appreciate the community and sense of belonging it allows for others. I think it’s better to be sincere — be brave, show who you are. Apathy is boring, and dissociating yourself from something isn’t a personality trait.
“I’m so tired” I was telling my barista. “But the concert was over a week ago” he replied, humbling me. I’m taken aback by this revelation. After months and months of trying to secure tickets, planning my outfit, live streams, lining up for merch, and friendship bracelets, it was all…over. In the week that followed Taylor’s Sydney shows, I wore Eras Tour merch to run errands. “I love your shirt”, the girl working at Boost Juice told me: an exchange that would have normally been transactional, if not for the shared experience. “I went on Sunday night, and I dressed up as a Mirrorball”, she said. The boys at Nando’s Broadway indulged me when I told them about the concert without prompt. “I’m so jealous” one of them said to me, accidentally calling me Taylor instead of Kayla when taking my order. Whenever I would see someone wearing Taylor merch or a friendship bracelet, there would be a knowing nod, and a feeling of you were there too. Now, bring on all the pretenders, one day, we will be remembered.
Beautifully captures what the Eras tour felt like: a joyful, exciting, judgement free zone. Except for when people went to the bathroom during Evermore. I judged them all.
I’m still going - I’m up to blue confetti (bless Tim!) but got off the train. Wanted you to know that I drove home from the station screaming bad blood and karma. I forgot how much I loved bad blood till your post. Also lol, I was so scared to bring up Taylor tickets at work for weeeks and you laughed it off ‘it’s fine!’ Haha liar