Dearest Taylor Swift:
In my nearly 21 years of life, about 28 percent of them were spent empathizing with your sad and whiny country songs. I was there when you were riding shotgun with your hair undone. I was on that balcony in summer air. That guy who was so mean to you? What a prick!
Your words totally spoke to me. I always found myself asking, “Why would anybody pick Taylor Swift LAST?” Well I’ve got to be honest, girlfriend, you’re making it more than evident as to why you guys are never, ever, ever getting back together. And it isn’t him.
Gone are the glory days of your Rapunzel-like Shirley Temple curls when you still donned cowgirl boots and sundresses. Not only did you do the whole pop-crossover thing, Red proved that you are a sellout. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still bumping your records as much as the next teenie bopper, but it’s not the same. Your newfound hipster persona, for whatever reason, is entailing this bizarre emotional harlot phase and it’s starting to get really old.
So, since you spent all those years consoling me through your music, I am returning the favor with some unasked advice. But first I must let you know of your erroneous actions.
Foremost, cut the cougar act. You are 23 years old and have zero business with high school seniors, okay? Conor Kennedy was the ONLY exception because he is of American royalty. But that does not mean you needed to buy a doggone mansion in Cape Cod right next to his family. Was there a moment put aside to ponder your purchase? Next time you come back to New England, think before you start waving at Conor from your front lawn while sunbathing in your awesome Ray-Bans with your flavor of the week.
Don’t even get me started on Helmet Harry Styles.
Secondly, you are not a born-again virgin after every break-up. Which brings me to my next issue.
Being single is like … normal. God forbid you have to spend a night in with your cat. I do it all the time. But you need to enjoy your fame and fortune with yourself. I don’t know what your excuse is, but I’m living proof of daddy issues and I’m not sure you qualify. Take a break.
Your spontaneous relationships were interesting for a while, but things got especially weird when you dated Taylor Lautner. That’s the equivalent of dating someone with your brother’s name: a serious don’t. And how the hell did you manage to blow it with Jake Gyllenhaal? Can you text me his number?
Third in line is your new video for “I Knew You Were Trouble.” Absolute train wreck. It is a sad, wannabe ripoff of the video for “We Found Love” by Rihanna. You and I both know that you would not be caught dead at Bonaroo. Oh, and not only did you know that he was trouble, but you pretty much asked for it.
Next, it really wouldn’t kill you if you got off your high horse and let someone go on tour with you. Remember when Rascal Flatts did you a favor and let you open for them? Yeah. Time to pay it forward.
To date, you’ve had at least six high profile relationships within three years, give or take. This excludes whatever random flings we have no knowledge of. You’re just one and done every dang time. An unmerciful and ruthless song is conceived from each one of these nasty breakups, bashing your ex then it’s on to the next. Did it ever occur to you that, oh I don’t know, YOU may be the problem?
Your apology in “Back To December” was brilliant. You admitted your mistake, swallowed your pride, and showed that you actually have a heart. But don’t let it stop there. One remorseful song does not cancel out your four albums; stop hating and do some self reflecting. Once you do that, people will see that you can be a respectable young lady who just had some growing up to do. Perhaps older men will take you seriously at this point. But if you touch Ryan Gosling, you will feel our wrath.
These seem like incredibly trying times for you. We miss Nashville’s innocent sweetheart. Yes, it is your world and we are living in it. But kicking sand in our faces with your Oxfords forces us to think that you’re just another picture to burn. I hope you at least try to understand where I’m coming from. On behalf of your fans, as much as we love you, we’re just as worried.
All the best,
Kattey Ortiz
PS: Let me know about Jake Gyllenhaal.
Kattey Ortiz can be contacted at
kortiz@ksc.keene.edu