Have we finally reached Taylor Swift saturation point? Right now it’s impossible to move for the micro-updates. From a flurry of amateur sleuths insisting that she somehow found time to write the terrible new spy thriller Argylle (spoiler alert: of course she didn’t) to the Empire State Building turning itself red and white because Swift was spotted eating some chicken with ketchup and “seemingly” ranch sauce (I wish I was making this one up, but alas).
And yes, before the Swifties come for me, I do recognise the irony of using up column inches to complain about over-exposure while actively contributing to it even further, but bear with me.
