Adult diapers and amnesia - apparent symptoms of a Taylor Swift 'Era's' tour

Alas though, that is indeed some of the stories that have been making the rounds and burying the whole Matt Healey/Taylor Swift romance articles that have been doing the rounds. So where to begin when digesting stories of mass hysteria (commonplace with pop acts) and the use of diapers (not so commonplace with pop acts.)

The “amnesia” stories, such as the one the BBC published on Thursday, are ones I can attest to during my gig going days; the colloquial term being used is “post-concert amnesia,” and pretty much is exactly how it sounds. Going to a show, having a great time and not remembering anything to do with the performance itself - bewildered instead with actually being front row centre for Foo Fighters. I mean, Taylor Swift of course.

But that whole “post-concert amnesia” can be applied to any event or activity that elicits such a sensory overload, which looking at footage of Swift’s world tour is easily the case. Saw a movie that you really enjoyed but forgot half the plot about? “Post-cinema amnesia.” Caught a football game or a sporting event that had a nail-biting finale? “Post-sport amnesia.” For parents worried about long-term effects of this form of amnesia should (more like when) Taylor Swift tour the United Kingdom, don’t be - at some point, the adrenaline will fade and those moments will return. I can personally attest to that.

So what of all this fainting? The term “mass hysteria” is probably apt on this occasion; reports have suggested that a number of audience members during the US leg of the tour have at one stage or another passed out - even before entering the stadium Swift is set to perform in. But that sometimes is just a product of call-and-response; it’s natural to be overwhelmed by something to the point your body just shuts down and you faint.

But are the mass faintings and panic attacks might not solely be Taylor Swift’s fault; rather, as NDTV reported, the delays in waiting to enter a venue and the potential that you might not make it inside are enough to play on the anxiety of any music fan. Combine that with a first time concert goer overwhelmed that they are going to see their idol, then yes - it can all become a bit too much.

But I don’t know how to justify the use of diapers…

So what about the diaper wearing at Taylor Swift shows?

Initially, I thought this was a big troll - but TikTok users (according to the Daily Mail) have been posting clips of either screengrabs of them buying adult diapers, or have taken videos of themselves actually wearing diapers. The reason? They don’t want to miss a minute of the concert - and would rather defecate themselves than lose their place in the crowd or miss out on a special moment Taylor Swift might surprise fans with.

That is the ultimate solution to FOMO (fear of missing out), but I’d be lying if I said it is something I can rationalise in my head. That’s always the roll of the dice going to shows - the inevitable “breaking of the seal” and having to queue for the loo. You live by the beverage and you die by the beverage, but certainly there are better options that soiling yourself, surrounded by other people who may-or-may-not be also soiling themselves at the same time, all gleefully watching Taylor Swift. 

Beyonce has the good nature to allow for an intermission during her tour, allowing the audience a chance to take a moment, digest what they’ve just seen, maybe grab a snack or a drink, cigarette break and, above all else, the chance to go to the toilet.

I can understand the amnesia. I can understand the fainting - I recall many bodies passing out when Michael Jackson toured “Dangerous” in the ‘90s. But actively going potty at a gig surrounded by a bunch of sweaty, over enthusiastic fans? No, no - I cannot understand nor reason that aspect of the ‘Era’s’ tour.

In effect - I don’t want to be a parent if Taylor Swift plays the UK picking up my child who cannot tell me how the show was, passing out in the car and sitting in their own filth. But then again, that’s just me.