I Watched Taylor Swift At Hyde Park And It Was Shit

Haters gona hate, hate hate hate hate...
Publish date:
Updated on

I realise the following statement does not denote smartness: I paid £65 to see Taylor Swift in Hyde Park last night. I went with my BFF (more on best friends later) and we had an awesome day laughing at Ellie Goulding’s dad dancing and drinking Starbucks. It was lush to see her. Taylor didn’t ruin it, exactly, because obviously I had wanted to see her. The biggest pop star in the world, right? But she didn’t really add much to the day either, which would’ve been just as great had me and Lily stayed home and ordered take out. Sorry Tay Tay.

First off, it was impossible to see anything. I realise I could’ve camped overnight to get to the barriers but logistically that’s out of the question. I’m a cripple and I like simple pleasures like access to toilets and cups of god damn coffee. The stage was impossibly low, like lower than a regular festival stage. We hijacked our way through to just in front of the sound desk, by stepping over sitting people’s faces and treading on flip flopped feet and plastic beer bottles, and could still see nothing. Like TOTAL nothing. Maybe the top of one of the huge screens. Everyone’s heads. No Taylor in the distance. Just a mass of people. The fact that to see anything at this shit you have to pay extra for Priority tickets or be Emma Watson and get invited into the secret treetop platform (which blocked all the views fyi, so thanks) fucks me right off.

That’s not the only beef. Between every single song, Taylor gave a testimony. To her, this is church. Or a therapy session. Or her chance to relay all the amazing advice she’s garnered from being super rich and nice and having proper famous friends (we’ll come back to the friends later) and from dating douchebag boy band members who didn’t text her back for four hours at a time even though they were holding their phones at the time. I don’t mind a bit of chat, but these speeches lasted five minutes each between EVERY song and were for the most part absolute bullshit. I like music at my gigs. I shouldn’t compare her to Katy Perry because of all their *ahem* Bad Blood, but Katy would’ve just got on with it. And her pyrotechnics would’ve been better than a piece of plastic shit on everyone’s wrist that lit up intermittently (aybe I missed the point of those bracelets by leaving early? It was about as glamorous as an ankle monitor). She clearly took style tips from KP with her lightbulb dress too. You might sell more records Tay Tay but Perry’s the slicker performer, and  always innovative with a DayGlo outfit.

It wasn’t enough to regale us with her advice (some of which I’ll list at the end), or hilarious tales (I stopped listening and started shouting “Fucking sing!” so I can’t relay many of the actual speeches now sorry). In between speeches she had to play lovely video interviews on the big screen of her bestest friends in the world telling us about why Taylor is the most amazing person of all time or how her album 1989 blew them away when they heard it in a private listening session in her kitchen. There was also a segment about cats (I know I know Taylor likes cats I get it but do one already). If you’ve been following our vehement upset of Tay Tay’s lifestyle lately you’ll know that she has a zillion best friends. Like seriously. It’s so Mean Girls, without a sense of irony, it’s upsetting. Lena Dunham, Selena Gomez, Haim, Jaime King, Karlie Kloss, I’m sorry but I’ve got some news for you: Taylor may have told you you’re her BFF, forever love, only one, but she says that to everyone. You been played, bitches.


Showing us these relentless videos (when I left, they were screening the third BFF VT), was not the only way to inflict pain on us. To ensure we knew that their lives were all better than ours in every possible way, Tay staged a fashion show on her own catwalk to her song Style, bringing out model after model for our perusal. Because, y’know, all her friends are super thin and beautiful and rich and successful and they all hang out and have sleepovers and live infinitely better lives than any of us ever will.  Tay Tay even brought out Serena Williams to walk the catwalk. I don’t know why? To demonstrate that she knows everybody? It was an embarrassing parade of better-than-you, and if I wasn’t already dead, I’d have died inside a little bit.


As for the singing, an extensive backing track took care of most of it. The highlight: a super-cringe-worthy RAWK cover of We Are Never Getting Back Together. JUST STOP. PLEASE. NOW. Other highlights included a blanket of Taylor’s face you could buy for £30. Sausage and chips was £7.50. I always loved Taylor. Loved. Past tense. 

Things that Taylor Swift said during her Hyde Park lecture series:

1). She was sorry any boy had ever hurt us by not texting us back. She wished she could take away the pain we’d experienced, so that no-one ever had a bad relationship. Which is the worst advice ever, right? I don’t want Taylor sucking my experiences from my body like they’re unwanted thetans! I want to keep and own every shitty thing I’ve ever done. THANK YOU!

2). How lucky she was to have so many amazing friends that she totally loves. Great. 

3). That even the worst thing an online bully could say wasn’t nearly as bad as the damage we’d do to ourselves. I mean…someone on reddit once said they felt sorry for anyone dating me because I was such an overt feminist. Fuck the haters! Chill out, Tay.

4). She was taking mental snapshots of you, you, you, you, you and you. Well you all bought tickets. I could hear a cash register sound every time she clocked another person.

5). When she wrote 1989 she was living alone in NY thinking she’d never fall in love. Living alone in NY. She should stop moping. That’s my dream right there!

6). There was more but I zoned out. It was probs just about cats or how blessed she was or how amazing her famous friends are. Bunch of show-off sycophants. And more videos of them telling the most boring stories about Taylor of all time. Or more praise-like testimonies from Taylor about how joyous the world is. Fuck off forever, Hyde Park. BRING ON THE HATE MAIL!

This is from the Clarissa Explains Fuck All blog, which you can read here