When this album comes out, gossip blogs will scour the lyrics for the men they can attribute to each song, as if the inspiration for music is as simple and basic as a paternity test, she wrote in an essay. The sentiment oozed with contempt for playing dot-to-dot with her lyrics.
Seven years on, and Swift's new album, The Tortured Poets Department, couldn't be more transparent about its subjects typewriters and tattoos lighting a path to the 1975's Matty Healy, whom she had a fling with last spring; Hampstead Heath and longsuffering propriety referring to actor Joe Alwyn, who she dated for six years.
Maybe Swift was going for the highest-profile humiliation of her exes possible; maybe it's an admission of defeat against a media that will pick the bones clean of anything she does or a naked attempt to harness the exposure guaranteed by that kind of coverage.
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