The day Taylor Swift held my hand for a photo shoot
Its summertime, New York City, 2014 and a starstruck reporter interviews the charismatic singer at a restaurant. Then its time to go
On a Tuesday afternoon three years ago, I entered a Manhattan restaurant where I'd been told Taylor Swift would be, waiting to be interviewed. It seemed astonishing that there she was indeed: an outrageously famous person occupying a human-woman amount of space as she talked, texted, ate salad and, finally, introduced me to the art of the selfie.
A selfie with Taylor had been a firm order from my editor. Id never taken a selfie before and Id certainly never asked a celebrity for one. Like Leonardo da Vinci teaching your life drawing class or Michael Jackson helping you moonwalk, it struck me as a grave and absurd sort of privilege that it was Taylor Swift who taught me how. (As everyone under the age of 30 knows, you hold the phone above you at arms length. The most flattering angle.)
I thought this blurry, if carefully angled picture of our faces was it for photo ops. But as we stood up to leave, it was clear something alarming had happened. A sort of mouth had formed outside, a crowd of hunched figures in black pointing cameras at the door that'd eject a superstar. And with her, me.
Taylor I suppose we were now on post-selfie first-name terms must've seen my terror. She asked in a droll and gentle way if I was ready for a photo shoot then took my hand firmly and out we strode. Cameras flashed, voices rose and, like the Red Sea parting, the crowd shifted to allow her into the waiting Suburban. And then I was on my own, walking towards the subway feeling dizzy.