Noon: We cast our eyes over to the MCG from our apartment in Docklands, a place we’re lucky to have after a lastminute cancellation by our Airbnb host three weeks earlier. It’s a familiar tale for others – hosts leaving young, eager fans high and dry to hike up the price of accommodation closer to the time. We blast Taylor Swift through our speakers, getting ready in a flurry of laughter, singing, dancing and pink gin, knowing we were about to witness the culmination of our girlhood desires in a single night – and for my boyfriend to witness me at my absolute peak.
An early dinner – booked weeks earlier – at a rooftop pizza place aptly titled the same as Swift’s 2012 album opening track, We’re not the only fans to make the
