Attention, everybody: the Grammys happened last night, and on top of me now considering paying $292484 for tickets to Hamilton, Taylor Swift took home Album of the Year over Kendrick Lamar which is basically the Grammy equivalent of this. (I am Chloe. I don’t give a shit about Disneyland.)
So naturally, she used her speech to address Kanye’s line in “Famous” where he said he made her famous (and that they still might have sex). Here’s what she said:
“As the first woman to win Album of the Year at the Grammys twice, I want to say to all the young women out there, there are going to be people along the way who will try to undercut your success or take credit for your accomplishments or your fame. But if you just focus on the work and you don’t let those people sidetrack you, someday, when you get where you are going, you will look around and you will know that it was you and the people who love you who put you there. And that will be the greatest feeling in the world. Thank you for this moment.”
And okay, sure. I mean, fine! Great. Cool. Alright! She isn’t wrong — haters can 100% get fucked, and Kanye’s lyrics were peak cringe. (Although I will say that it would be like a fantastic movie plot if one day Taylor and Kanye started dating. But I’m positive I’m saying this because I’ve seen too many romantic comedies, and my brain is not to be trusted.) Though maybe it’s because I wish Kendrick had won Album of the Year or because my idea of throwing shade would be to hold up the Grammy and say, “Kanye, what’s good?” but I just couldn’t stand up and point like Meryl Streep did at Patricia Arquette at the Oscars last year.
Is it because I’ve hit peak Swift? Is it because I know that she and I have nothing in common and would probably run out of things to talk about if we were stuck in line together at the grocery store? Is it because “please welcome to the stage” made me want to walk into the sea? Is it because she was backed by an entirely male production team?
Because look: her speech was great, I’ll admit it. And Kanye is spiralling and was out of line with that Taylor Swift dig — I’ll admit that, too. But something about it all still felt flat. I felt like Chloe who doesn’t care about Disneyland. I just sat there feeling blank. Like I was watching the prom queen win the prom and I was Heather Mooney in Romy and Michele, making beer spill out of my mouth.
I don’t know what it was, guys. Am I dead inside? Am I dead, in general, and just a ghost typing this? Do I just wish I was watching Hamilton all the time instead? Yes.