It was still early in the day when the men with glitter in their copper beards started appearing on the streets. They had rhinestone cowboy hats on their heads. And they wore t-shirts that read “It’s me. Hi. I’m the dad. It’s me,” and “Spending a lot of money at the moment.” My family and I were in Cardiff for Taylor Swift’s Eras tour, and the Celtic dads were out in force and ready for it. We’d just come to see Taylor. We left with a newfound appreciation of the power of positive masculinity.
I had long been aware of the existence of Swiftie dads — I live with one, after all — but had regarded them as more of the “singing along to ‘Shake It Off’ in the car” variety than the boa-clad men I witnessed strolling up and down the high street that bright June Tuesday. Yet there they were, enthusiastically bonding not just with their families but with each other, sharing a brotherhood in friendship bracelet-laden arms. And we experienced it firsthand when we bumped into an old friend of my spouse, his wife and young daughters in tow, wearing a shirt that read, “Dad (Taylor’s Version).”
