Anyone who's even vaguely familiar with Taylor Swift's The Eras Tour knows the event doesn't kick off at 4:30pm when the doors swing open, or even at 5:30pm when the first opening act takes the stage. Nope, it starts at 7:00am which is when I dragged myself out of bed, packed my regulation-sized A4 bag with energy bars, Lucozade, and friendship bracelets, and trudged to Wembley Stadium to queue up. If you've managed to score seats (lucky you—though "lucky" might be debatable), you can skip this ritual. But for me? Pitch standing is the only way to properly experience a concert, where you can dance shoulder-to-shoulder with thousands of other Swifties.

'You're On Your Own, Kid'

One thing that never crossed my mind in the months leading up to my August concert was that I would be one of the handful of Pakistanis in the audience. As I took my place in the queue and scanned my surroundings, I came to a jarring revelation. I was the only brown person there. For as far as my eye could see, albeit it's not that far, a third of the crowd consisted of white women, a third of young girls and their parents and a third were gay men. There was hardly anyone who looked like me.

I was suddenly very aware of how lucky I was to be a Pakistani that could shape my travel plans in order to attend a concert people pay extortionate amounts for. I was mocked endlessly for extending my trip to London just for a concert, but this wasn't just any concert – it was THE concert.

But even as a minority in that crowd, with thousands of others, I felt personally seen by Taylor. Because as she was singing, it didn't matter where you're from or what you look like, her songs were relatable to all.

The Great War

Getting tickets to The Eras Tour is a task in itself, so much so that fans have coined the process "the Great War". I needed special access codes, which I only got after purchasing merchandise during a very specific time frame. So, when it's time to buy those tickets, there's no strategy more effective than hammering the General Admission button and checking out ASAP. Taking your time to try and choose which section of front-standing? Rookie mistake. You'll end up with a sold-out show and a broken heart just like I did the first time. Thank God there were multiple sale days. The anxiety leading up to the sale day was crippling and included nightmares that didn't end until I had the confirmation email in my inbox.

After hyping it up for what felt like the longest fourteen months of my life, would it live up to my expectations? Absolutely. Whether you're a full-blown "Swiftie," a "normal" fan, or just someone who got dragged along, there's no denying the surreal experience of watching Wembley Stadium slowly fill up with 92,000 jelly-legged fans. And let me tell you, when that countdown clock appears on the screen and you hear the opening whispers of "it's been a long time coming…," it's seriously goosebump-inducing.

Show time

Taylor wasted no time, launching into her three-and-a-half-hour marathon of a show with the Lover era. She pauses only to introduce herself with, "Thank you for choosing to spend your night with us. I'm Taylor, and welcome to The Eras Tour!" As if all 92,000 of us didn't already know her name and seriously consider selling an organ to be there.

Through 11 different eras—each with its own colour scheme, aesthetic, and genre—Taylor takes us on a whirlwind journey. It's like a stage production on steroids, with 16 lightning-fast costume changes. And don't even try to predict which parts will get you emotional—it's impossible. For me, it was during Marjorie, a tribute to her late grandmother. That song always reminds me of my own. The part that triggers the waterworks: "I should have asked you questions, I should have asked you how to be / Asked you to write it down for me, kept every grocery store receipt / 'Cause every piece of you would be taken from me." And if the lyrics don't get you, the emotion in Taylor's voice, her glassy eyes, and the sight of an entire stadium swaying with their phone torches will.

Now, let's squash those ridiculous rumours about Taylor lip-syncing her way through the show. The subtle note changes and mid-song laughs are proof enough, but if that doesn't convince you, Champagne Problems will. Around hour two, Taylor sits down at her piano and plays the song she "never knew if she would get to play live" since it's from one of her lockdown albums. The crowd belts out every word, sometimes even louder than Taylor herself. After she hits the last note, the stadium erupts into a seven-and-a-half-minute ovation that probably registered on the Richter scale. I'd heard about these 11-minute ovations on Instagram and TikTok and thought, "They must be exaggerating." Nope. It was real. It only ended because Taylor herself had to cut it short—probably because she had places to be.

A surprise for Swifties

And then there's the surprise song set, which is an acoustic mini concert within the concert. Taylor usually plays one song on the piano and one on the guitar, with the audience in the dark until the last second. But with so many shows under her belt and Swifties being as dedicated as they are, fans have gotten pretty good at predicting what she'll play. As a Pakistani that could only attend one show, the surprise song choices were a big deal. I wouldn't get another chance if these ones disappointed.

So, when she walked up to her guitar and started playing Everything Has Changed (her duet with Ed Sheeran from the 2012 album Red), I was thrilled. It's an underrated gem. What no one expected was for Taylor to stop halfway through and say, "Stop, this isn't right. I just don't feel like I'm doing the song justice." Cue Ed Sheeran popping up through the stage floor, and the screams that followed were definitely not safe for human ears. The whole thing felt more like two best friends catching up than a rehearsed performance, capped off with Taylor giving Ed a kiss on the head before he left the stage. And the whole time, she had this smug smile on her face because nothing brings her more joy than outsmarting her fans.