‘The Life of a Showgirl’
Written by Rachel Motsenbocker. Graphic by Phoenix Leifer.
It’s Oct. 2, and there are only a couple hours until the showgirl takes the stage. Taylor Swift announced her new album, “The Life of a Showgirl,” back in August on her fiancé’s (then boyfriend’s) podcast. I remember frantically texting my friends, to which they responded with their own off-the-charts enthusiasm to the announcement. It felt remarkable to me that, despite being scattered across the country, each of us were buzzing in the same way. Excitement and orange glitter were in the air, and it was clear that October couldn’t come soon enough.
Much like the last time Swift dropped an album, my friends and I decided it was only fitting to host a listening party, and this time it was my turn. With the melancholy melodies of “The Tortured Poets Department” album in the background of my kitchen, I set off preparing for my guests. Homemade cookies, a mildly impressive charcuterie board and mirrorball-themed plates (#iykyk) had overtaken my counters. Soon enough, my apartment would be filled with old and new friends, and I found myself more excited to see them than I was for the album. Don’t tell Taylor Swift I said that.
As my friends filed in, we spent hours chatting about our favorite era of Swift’s career and how excited we were for this next chapter. The visuals that Taylor Nation, her official management team, had been releasing over the past months hinted at the potential for a pop album reminiscent of her “1989” album era, but this time on steroids.
Our jaws dropped when we realized Apple Music had released the album well before midnight — someone is definitely getting fired. Sitting in my living room, we kept tossing around theories about who the songs were about, particularly her highly anticipated song “Actually Romantic,” which is rumored to be a clapback at another popular singer. We shared shocked glances when Swift got a little too provocative with her lyricism in her song “Wood,” and belly laughed when someone accidentally rewound “Honey” seconds away from its tender ending. It was a perfect night, but what made it so wasn’t the showgirl’s exquisite performance; it was the people we met because of her.
I could sit here and gush about how much we enjoyed the album, but what had truly warmed my heart was the experience her music had granted me, and how it brought us together. No matter your major, your year or general background, there is always an invisible string connecting you to those you care about. For us, it’s our showgirl.
