Now that the worst days of our lives are officially over (no, I am NOT dramatic), can we please talk about how fucked up the last 72 hours were in the wake of the Taylor Swift Eras Tour going on sale in Australia?
I knew it would be bad. I knew that so many of us would miss out on tickets. But I wasn’t prepared for the immense disappointment, frustration and sadness that I would feel these last few days. Especially today.
Like millions of other people, I’ve spent a good portion of my week looking at a blue bar making its way across my white computer screen. Hours and hours. Days and days. The twinkling of the elusive promise land lying on the other side — if only you get randomly selected to join.
But after hours of waiting, I was gifted with the shittiest message: “Allocation is now exhausted”. Despite my completely delusional expectations, I was one of many people who was completely swerved by Ticketek and who are now, officially, Taylor Swift ticketless.
Yes, the irony of writing to thousands about how to buy tickets and then not being able to get them myself is NOT lost on me.
A moment of silence, please.
Yes, I know it’s the epitome of first-world problems, but I actually think it’s completely valid that so many of us feel ridiculously upset, frustrated, and annoyed by the whole experience.
Is it normal to be angry?
Let’s start with the whole actual buying tickets ordeal.
It should go without saying, but we shouldn’t need to game a system in order to see one of our favourite artists perform. I get it, lots of people like Taylor Swift. But the fact that all of us needed to come up with wild conspiracy theories (to incognito or to not incognito?) in order to secure tickets is a downright joke.
While I can understand that the randomised system is probably better than an ordered queue in terms of fairness, I still can’t help but get frustrated overhearing stories of people who managed to get in after only ten minutes — and some getting through multiple times in one day.
It’s especially frustrating when you hear of people who only know a couple of songs nabbing tickets, while die-hard fans are still hanging out in the lobby.
“There are many more ways of floating real fans to the top of the queue than what Ticketek is doing,” Andrew Lipp, Co-Founder of EQL told PEDESTRIAN.TV.
He says that you can use technology to understand how dedicated of a fan someone is when they’re buying tickets and then float them to higher in the queue — things like whether they liked one of Taylor’s Insta posts from six years ago, or the fact that they were in the top 0.5 per cent of Taylor Swift listeners in Spotify Wrapped (hi, it’s me).
Is it so hard to find a way or a system to ensure that true, day-one fans have priority access to tickets? Or is it simply fair game for everyone, regardless of whether they know the entire Taylor Swift discography?
What’s a ‘real fan’ anyway?
In my frustration, I’ve found myself becoming susceptible to harmful terminology like ‘real fans’. In fact, as soon as tickets sold out, I dramatically sobbed to my sister, crying out: “I BET YOU MOST OF THEM DON’T EVEN LISTEN TO EVERMORE.”
Yes, it’s dramatic. And yes, it’s a pretty valid frustration.
But if I’m being honest, it also feels like the antithesis to what it is to be a Taylor Swift fan. Sure, they might not know that “Right Where You Left Me” is the greatest Taylor Swift song ever made. But they also might discover that in time — and perhaps even at the Taylor Swift concert itself.
We can’t start patrolling how ‘legitimate’ or ‘big’ a fan someone is. We’ve just gotta be happy that they get to experience how wonderful and therapeutic her music is.
Liking Taylor Swift isn’t a cool and exclusive club. And that’s probably the best thing about it.
Is it normal to feel resentful of people who bought tickets?
In my anger and frustration, I can’t help but feel like I’m harbouring resentment toward all the people who did get tickets.
Questioning their fan status. Wondering if they do know the discography off by heart. Do they even know Taylor’s middle name???
Initially, when I started writing this piece, I was writing it through a really angry lens. The main punchline was: I don’t care if you got Taylor Swift tickets… I don’t want to hear about it.
It’s bitter, I know. But logging onto TikTok and seeing a bunch of people cheer about getting tickets was just making me even sadder. Why were they lucky enough to get tickets and I wasn’t?
Then you throw in the fact that there were plenty of people bragging on Twitter about scoring tickets to multiple nights when so many of us just wanted one (1) ticket. There, you’ve got a perfect recipe for me chucking a bunch of rocks into my pants and walking into the ocean.
For those that didn’t hog tickets, I’m happy for ya’ll, I promise I am. But I think those of us who didn’t get tickets also need a little moment of silence, especially as we prepare to battle the whole population of Australia for resale tickets.
Even if the first thing you think when someone tells you they got Taylor Swift tickets is “fuck off ya dog” (because same), I want us all to take a breath and give ’em a little pat on the back for surviving The Great War, even if you didn’t.
It’s tough. It’s shitty. It’s icky. It’s normal to be angry. But when you wake up tomorrow, just let that shit pass. We don’t want to let our sadness marinate!
What can we do now that we don’t have tickets?
Well, of course, we can try our luck in Ticketek’s resale which will be launching in September.
But even if we don’t get tickets, I can find solace in knowing that I won’t be the only person in cowboy boots and a glittery dress, waiting outside Accor arena or the MCG in hopes of hearing even a whisper of Taylor. Oh, and you bet we’re going to cheer on all the lucky, bedazzled attendees that have gotten tickets.
And you know what? That’s a pretty damn cool thing.
As I open my TikTok now, hours after the Sydney general sale has officially gone caput, I’m met with video after video about Taylor Swift. Tips on how to get Swift tickets that definitely didn’t work for me ‘cos they’re probably laced with pseudoscience and videos of people celebrating their tickets. Videos of people celebrating getting tickets.
And thankfully, people like me who are also going to sob to Speak Now in its entirety tonight.
My number one tip to dealing with the great Eras Tour sadness is to lean into the shitty solidarity you know have with hundreds of thousands of other fans who didn’t get tickets. I’ve rustled up a few to get you on your way.
Now go forth, cry, then get back on that bloody horse and get ready to buy resale tickets this coming September.
Until then, enjoy these unhinged TikToks:
