‘Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned
Everything you lose is a step you take
So make the friendship bracelets
Take the moment and taste it
You’ve got no reason to be afraid

You’re on Your Own, Kid – Taylor Swift

My favorite part of the Taylor Swift Eras concert was trading friendship bracelets. I love interacting with strangers, especially short, positive, meaningful interactions. I constantly embarrass my family by telling the woman at the drive up window, “I love your nails” or asking a random walker, “Your knit hat is adorable, did you make it?”

At first I didn’t completely understand the idea. You’re on Your Own, Kid on the Midnights album made it clear that I should, “make the friendship bracelets,” but to me, a kid from the 1980s, friendship bracelets were those woven things made out of embroidery floss. I could make one or two a week, but that wouldn’t yield many to trade at the concert. Then I figured out that in 2023, people were putting beads on stretchy elastic string to make Eras Tour friendship bracelets. Much easier. I made five, while my daughter started picking album names out of our meager supply of letter beads. My bracelets had no words. I did more research and realized that the words were the point. I was supposed to put album names, song names, and song lyrics into the bracelets and the bracelets were supposed to be colored to match individual album themes. Goodness, there was so much to be learned about the Taylor Swift community.

Armed with all the rules and regulations, I first made bracelets with the title of every album, except one, following a more-or-less album appropriate color scheme. (My goal was to use beads I had, and I don’t like purple or pink, which is a problem in Taylor Swift land and I also didn’t have number beads, so no 1989.) Short album titles like Red and albums without the letter E like Midnights were great, because we didn’t have many E beads. Then I made ones with favorite non-E song titles like Karma and The Man. Then lots of bracelets with favorite song lyrics: “too loud” and “calm down” (from You Need to Calm Down); “be patient” and “power”; “clever” and “kind” (from Marjorie).

The day of the concert I went rogue. My endless reading of the Taylor Swift Eras tour Facebook groups taught me that some fans who didn’t get tickets were getting jobs in security, concessions, and merchandise sales. In a last minute fit of creativity, I made “concessions” and “security” bracelets. I left the house with thirty-five tradeable masterpieces on my arms.

The first bracelet went to a little girl with a “10th Birthday” sash around her shoulder. Her mom parked in the same parking lot we did, and they walked to the stadium in front of us, arms bare of bracelets. As we crossed onto the stadium grounds I placed a rainbow beaded “Eras” bracelet into the birthday girl’s hand, which was cupped in front of her as if she was expecting my gift. I said, “Happy Birthday” as she turned toward us. Her mom, who’d looked like a scary momma bear during the walk broke out in a grin. “Do you want to trade?” she asked and unzipped her fanny pack, which contained a shower ring filled with bracelets. Apparently not everyone kept their bracelets prominently displayed on their wrists, who knew!

In line to enter the stadium I traded my Speak Now bracelet with a single lavender glass flower-painted bead to a teen in a flowing lavender dress from Idaho and gave a Red bracelet to her mom. I overhead the girl raving how my special bead matched her outfit. Another little girl got my rainbow star “Eras” bracelet. She didn’t have any to trade, but her mom was so happy. “She’s five and this is her first big concert.” I explained to the five-year-old that this was my first big concert too. We traded with another mom and daughter who were originally from Chicago but had recently moved to a suburb of Denver and then we bonded over our no-line-cutting rule-following enforcement. When the gates open we lost each other, but for 20 minutes we were all best friends.

A lone older lady security guard at the bottom of the escalator got my “security” bracelet. As we raced to the top level of the stadium we found lineless concessions and happy workers. Our first purchase were two lemonades, and those cups with lemons kept our voices fresh the whole night as we refilled them with water over and over. I asked the woman who took our order if she was a fan and if she wanted a bracelet and she did! I gave her one, since she had none of her own. A few stands down was a girl who looked my daughter’s age, so I asked her if she wanted a bracelet and gave her my “concession” one. She beamed.

Back down to our section and a woman in a lavender suitcoat was issuing commands into a walkie talkie. Without asking, I dropped “The Man” bracelet into her hand and didn’t wait to see her response. I mean, of course she was a fan if she was wearing that jacket, but no need to distract her from her important work.

Bracelet trading began in earnest as more fans arrived, and ebbs and flows of trading groups would gather then disband. There were women that had made hundreds of bracelets, and they all knew a rule I had missed, that acronyms of song lyrics were not just acceptable, but encouraged. While my “be kind be clever” 14-letter bracelet needed some explaining, somehow everyone knew the 9-letter NBSKYFTBC was the opening line to “Marjorie,” used less beads, and didn’t require any precious E beads.

Never be so kind, you forget to be clever

marjorie, by Taylor Swift

My last (and favorite) trading happened when I left mid-concert to get the coveted quarter-zip sweatshirt for my kiddo. I missed two songs, but getting the shirt and extra stranger love made it worthwhile. I stood in line for 15 precious minutes with other fans who wanted a souvenir more than they wanted to hear All too Well (Ten Minute Version). I was outraced to the back of the line by a middle school teacher and her two elementary school teacher friends. I joked that I didn’t mind if they beat me, so long as there were still sweatshirts left. Then a gay couple from Utah joined behind us and we all had a lovely chat about their delicious looking dippin dots. Finally, a tired looking teenage boy called me up to place my order. He brought me my shirt and CD and looked to see if there were any last water bottles rolling around. There were not. As he scanned my purchases into his tablet, I noticed his wrists were empty. Over 2 and a half hours into the concert and he didn’t have a single friendship bracelet. When he told me my total I handed him my card and asked, “Hey, do you want a friendship bracelet?” I’ll never forget the look he gave me. It was like a kid on Christmas morning. The exhaustion fell from him, replaced with radiating delight. When he responded “Yes!” I slid one of my early no-letter bracelets on his wrist. It would look totally normal on a teenage boy, even after the concert.

My last stop was to grab a cold bottle of water for one last lemonade cup refill. I had two of my original bracelets left. A woman in her 60s took my order and wanted a bracelet when I offered. I gave her my second to last one, then got distracted by a teenager jumping up from where the food was being cooked and rushing to the register.

“Did you say friendship bracelets?” the skinny green haired teen asked. “Do you want to trade? It’s been slow since the concert started and I’ve just been sitting back there making bracelets but there’s no one to trade with.” They held up 7 loosely strung bracelets that were too big to be rings, but too small to fit adult wrists, made of giant plastic pony beads. They started explaining their offerings, “This one is for Speak Now, and this one is for Lover, and this one is for all the albums.”

I stopped them and pointed to the colorful bracelet that had a bead for each album, “I’d like that one, but I only have one left to trade.” I held it up – light green with cut glass beads and the words “one dollar”. “It’s a little random,” I explained, “it’s for the lawsuit that Taylor Swift filed in Denver, where she won, but only asked for a single dollar in damages.” The teen understood the message that everyone else had passed over all night. It was a weird Denver specific bracelet with beads that matched their hair. They held out their bracelet to trade for mine.

“This is so cool,” they said, “I love it.”

People who aren’t Taylor Swift fans ask me what was so special about the concert and what’s so special about her music. After 3 plus years of pandemic nonsense, connection feels precious. It’s hard to succinctly describe the feeling of belonging when you can walk up to any of 70,000 strangers, offer a handmade bracelet and not be afraid. This concert brought people together from different generations, income levels, and geographies and gave them a venue for common joy. We interacted with strangers in intimate cathartic bursts and then sang together for three and a half hours. For me, the Eras Tour music put words and a voice to what I’ve lost during Covid and the concert provided a temporary community that felt like family.