The 20yo daughters are more into Charli. |
| I think many of had different expectations because both Taylor and Travis called this album full of bangers, I would use the phrase “happy bops” instead. (with the exception of ruin the friendship, of course) |
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Wood is an embarrassing knockoff of what Sabrina Carpenter does.
Taylor just doesn’t have the sexuality or sex appeal to pull off a song about Travis Kelce’s penis without sounding ridiculous and cringeworthy. |
You can’t make a blanket statement like that because it’s untrue that all or most 20 year-old daughters are more into Charli than Taylor or vice versa. There’s room for both. My 25-year-old cousin is going to a Taylor listening party tonight and also loved brat so… |
She has been singing about sex for years, but for some reason, people tune it out. Are you ready for it, dress, guilty as sin, just to name a few. |
| Ive already listened to this album on repeat and tired of it. I like Life of a showgirl and opaline. All the penis references are a little corny. |
My 10 year old and 15 year old are both obsessed. Me, not so much. |
| It just sounds so juvenile and cringe. I thought she would mature, I guess she never will. Travis has been a net net drain on her brand. |
I'm sure all the people watching CNN in the airport are glued to the TV... |
Well they brought in a gay guy to explain the lyrics to the anchors, so probably |
I don't know her catalogue that well, but I think lines like "bought this dress so you can take it off" and "in the middle of the night, in my dreams, you should see what we do" are at least subtle enough to leave an air of mystery... "key to my thighs" is tacky and cheesy. Maybe she had other lines that were that OTT but I'm not aware of them. |
She fancies herself a poet. So deluded. These are lyrics a middle schooler could pen. |
the old brittany vs Christina... it's not 1990 anymore mom |
Well poets disagree... what is your expertise. |
This is so sweet and really does seem specific to him. Love it for her too. I also like Wish List. |