Taylor's Sequin

As Janice woke from the fog of sleep, she absent-mindedly held a backscratcher close to her mouth like a microphone. Clawing back the covers, Janice eyed her roommate Lauren sitting at a writing desk near the window. Janice had never worn sequins or jumpsuits before, but she felt a little stiffened by the gold-colored one-piece that adorned her body at the moment. She had dreamed of Taylor Swift, again. 

“Have a good sleep?” said Lauren.

“Yeah! But can you believe what I’m wearing, Lauren?”

“Yeah! Pj’s, sleeping gown, jammies, undergarments, or whatever you want to call it! That’s what I see.” said Lauren casting a puzzled look toward Janice.

“You don’t see Taylor Swift’s ‘1989 World Tour, Out Of The Woods’ dress?”

Lauren let out a cackle which she tried to stifle. “Are you kidding me? You’re only wearing your normal pajamas with that god-awful-looking teddy bear. That’s all I see!”

As Janice sat up, she swept her hands up and down along the length of her body. “Look! Sequin, glitter, gold, glass beads. You don’t see it?”

Lauren’s good humor darkened, now, into a more restrained tone. Was she looking at an illusion in her friend or just some fancy imagination? “Janice, I doubt you’d ever fit in a Swift gown, and yeah! I know Taylor is your goddess, but don’t you think you might be taking it beyond la-la land?”

Janice sashayed across the room, hips swaying in the Taylor Swift manner, heels striding in rhythm to some imagined tune. She looked into a long, standing mirror at the reflection staring back, but it wasn’t her. “Nah! I like it! It looks good!” Janice started singing into the backscratcher. “Are we out of the woods? Are we out of the woods? Are we in the clear? Are we in the clear yet? –In the clear yet, good.”

“Well, I hope you get out of the woods soon! Janice, you are scaring me.” Lauren was incredulous about Janice’s act. Not only was Janice a superfan of Taylor Swift, but now, she was mesmerized by some false emulation glaring back from the mirror. Janice kept singing, swaying her hips and arms, and doing the occasional side glance that Swift is known for.

“Stop it!” Lauren said. “We’ve got class in an hour, and don’t you think you’d be out of place in that dress?”

“Well, if you don’t see it and nobody else sees it, I guess I won’t be out of place. Will I?” Janice said, whirling around from the mirror. “You remember when we went to the 1989 tour– you were hollering, jumping up and down, screaming. You were right into it; you were crying, laughing, smiling, and dancing. She hooked you, too, Lauren. She made you relate to her. Aren’t we all the same people with feelings? Didn’t we experience it all? Isn’t that the humanity in our nature–to be like Taylor–to be her?”

“Of course, Janice, we are both obsessed. We both can relate to our inner worlds through that magnificent woman, but I tell you, we are not her. We are studying to be engineers and not singers, but, Janice, you get so invested in your goddess that your imagination twists reality!”

“What do you mean, Lauren?”

“Oh! I’ve been watching you lately, Janice; you are suffused with a Swiftian mindset. It is clear to me!”

“Suffused?”

“Yeah! Swamped, invested, swarmed, ingrained, absorbed, whatever! And it’s interfering with your normal life. I think that you are trying to be Taylor Swift in the flesh.”

Janice pointed the backscratcher at Lauren as if casting a spell with a wand. “Lauren, stop it with the babble! You know, I can’t be Taylor Swift in the flesh! It is impossible. How can you even suggest that? How could that ever happen?”

“It can happen over time, Janice! You first get your feet wet, then you flow with the water, swim in it as if the buoyancy were some comfort you never had before; then, before you know it, you become a part of the thing that isn’t you. You join with an alternate reality and lose yourself.”

“This dress is no alternate reality, Lauren; I love it! Give me a break!” Janice gently swept her hands over her bosom and pressed downward against her thighs.

“Think about it, Janice! When you first listened to Taylor, you loved her, so you listened more; you related to every lyric because it mirrored some aspect of you. If you felt brokenhearted, your song was ‘All Too Well.’ If you felt joyous, your song was ‘Shake It Off’; If you felt angry, ’Picture To Burn.’ Taylor mirrored you in every way, and eventually, you felt an affinity with her. Affinity, though, should not conflate with your self-awareness. You see, Janice, you can step in Taylor’s shoes, but you can’t let her take you over like a possession. If you become Swift, you lose yourself.” 

“Stop preaching, Lauren! You are not a psychiatrist!” Janice dropped back onto her bed, throwing the backscratcher against the wall. “I think you are turning against our Taylor.”

“Janice, I love Taylor just as much as you, and I would never turn my back on her, but I did not wake up wearing Taylor’s clothes. I won’t let her possess me and affect my ability to get my engineering degree. What about you, Janice? Are you going to have enough of a clear mind when you write the exam to pass it? Or are you writing down a ‘blank space’ on every question? Excuse the pun, but you’re not Taylor.”

I’m sorry, I know you love Taylor, but I love this dress; you won’t make me change my mind or this dress. Can you hear the crowds screaming?

“Janice, We got to get ready for class. I suggest you get out of the pajamas and into your school uniform.” Lauren walked over to the bureau beside Janice’s bed and pulled out a blue checkered blouse, a white shirt with buttons, black knee-high socks, and a checkered tie with the same pattern as the blouse. She placed the clothing next to Janice. “Ok! Put them on!”

“No! I like what I’ve got on!” Janice said

“You can’t go to school like that, Janice. Do you want me to help you out?”

“No, I like what I’m wearing,” Janice repeated. 

Lauren, frustrated, had a ‘Eureka’ moment: If Janice wants to be Taylor, then let her be Taylor. Was it reverse psychology? Or simply role-playing? “Ok! Taylor,” Lauren said, “your next act is coming up. Costume change! Stage right! Remember! The scene is set, and you won’t blend in with what you’re wearing now. Hop to it! Get dressed! The show starts soon.”

“You mean costume change–I love a good costume change! You are going to help me, right! You are the designer, right!”

“Yes, Taylor!” Lauren said, trying to be flattered at the honorary role of assistant to the superstar, but horrified at how she couldn’t get Janice to snap out of delusion. Lauren pulled up Janice’s pajama top and tossed it onto the bed. She then yanked down the pajama bottom and nearly pulled Janice off the bed with it.

“Hey, why so forceful?”

“You got a show to get to, Taylor. Time’s essential.” They were going to be late for class because of Janice’s identity crisis and not because of any actual scene change, but what could Lauren do? She had to presume that Janice was not herself and go along with that fugue state to ensure they made it to class on time.

 Janice looked at Lauren with excitement. “It’s gonna be a grand finale, right! Fireworks, lasers, clapping fans, lit-up cell phones.”

“Yes, Taylor, but we got to get you dressed before that can happen.” Lauren placed the white shirt on Janice and buttoned it. She took the tie with an existing knot and tugged it up to the neckline.

“My dancers are going to shine! I know it. They’d do anything for me. Just like my backup singers and the band! They’re world-class, you know. They’d do anything for me. I’m so lucky! And my fans are the world to me, too–that’s ‘cause they see themselves in me, and I see myself in them.”

She needs help,  Lauren thought. The ultimate fan! Janice took an obsession to a sharp-edged barbed-wire fence, where most would stop, but she jumped over it into a pit of insanity. Lauren was obsessed with Taylor, like Janice. Yes! Everyone was obsessed with Taylor, like Janice. Lauren’s father was smitten and was 58, but her dad didn’t stalk Taylor like some crazy dude breaking into her apartment in New York City. Many teens were obsessed with Swift, but they don't write looney all-cap messages on Twitter, having a melt-down when others decided to hate her. And Lauren’s friend Janice now liked wearing Taylor’s dresses in her mind and identified entirely as a mental doppelganger, but no actual comparison existed. She needs help!

Lauren zipped up the blouse and rolled up the knee-highs that, in reality, went up beyond the knees. “Forget the make-up, Taylor! We’re going to be late!”

“What kind of show will it be if I’m not wearing make-up?”

Lauren smiled deceptively. “Come on, Taylor! You know your fans love you whether you choose to wear cosmetics or not! You know that!”

“Come to think of it–that’s true. My fans always stand by me no matter what I look like.”

Lauren grabbed the keys from the desk and ran, pushing Janice out the dormitory door. They exited.

“My fans are waiting!” said Janice.

***

“Engineering 106,” said Professor Jensen pointing a teacher’s stick at the blackboard behind him. The phrase, ‘The importance of engineering,’ was chalked on the board. “Ok! Class, why do you think engineering is so important? Think about it! I will come around and point to any one of you, and I want you to explain why you think engineering is essential.“

Oh, God! Laura thought, Don’t be picking Janice!

Professor Jensen slowly inched his way up the steps of the lecture hall. He stepped in front of a student. “Dan, what do you think?” said Professor Jensen as he pointed the stick at him.

“For safety,” replied Dan proudly. “If there were no engineering, we wouldn’t be able to develop systems to prevent hazardous conditions. Buildings would collapse; bridges would collapse; manufacturing accidents would occur; food could get contaminated; et cetera, et cetera.”

“Very Good! Safety needs to be considered in any engineering project, but it’s not the only reason.” 

Jensen walked another couple of rows and stepped across; he stopped in front of Angela, who sat in the same row as Janice and Lauren. “What do you say, Angela?”

“Well, it's about innovation and advancement of the sciences and society. I think about Edison, who invented the lightbulb, or Ford, who invented the car. Yeah! They created their inventions, but how could they bring them to the masses without engineering. You need the engineers to develop the power grids and assembly lines and all those things that benefit our society.”

“Excellent point!” said Professor Jensen as he shuffled down the row. He stopped in front of Janice.

Oh! Shit! thought Lauren. “You don’t need to ask Janice; she’s a little under the weather,” said Lauren.

“I say you let Janice speak for herself,” Professor Jensen said.

Janice elbowed her friend. “Yes! Lauren, let me speak for myself! I never deny an interview question from a fan. Ask away, my dear professor!”

Professor Jensen pointed the stick at Janice as if it were a microphone. “Ok! What says you, my dear interviewee?”

“Well, Professor!” said Janice. “If it weren’t for engineers, my stage might never have been built. The stadium wouldn’t have been built, and those light-up arm bracelets wouldn’t have been developed. The cameras that my fans bring to take my picture would never have been around. The little props that I use would not exist! But wouldn’t you agree that designers are like engineers, just the same? This crop-top I’m wearing would not have been engineered, so I wouldn't have a show to perform without engineering, and you know, I am wearing the perfect dress for the grand finale!”