Pregnancy rumors were stoked after Taylor Swift was spotted at the US Open with her boyfriend.
On September 8, at the US Open, Travis Kelce, 34, and Taylor Swift, 34, looked fantastic. Rather than their obvious displays of love and joy, Taylor’s body type in the event dress went viral.
Taylor dressed in a bright costume to see the Men’s Singles Final between Jannik Sinner of Italy and Taylor Fritz of the United States. The “Sora Linen Dress” of the Reformation was checkered in red and white.
The tiny straps on this $248 dress, which can be worn on or off the shoulders, and the snug bodice complete the design. Taylor accessorized her dress with brown heels, light jewelry, and black sunglasses.
But Travis sported a light beige Gucci bucket hat, a matching cardigan with red and green Gucci stripes, and a white golf shirt. Brown loafers and white shorts completed his ensemble.
Video of Travis and Taylor was made public, and they were seen in pictures at the wedding with Brittany and Patrick Mahomes.
A video of Travis and Taylor walking hand in hand into the tournament and exploring was uploaded on X by US Open Tennis. “In the age of tennis.” The account posted a video along with the caption, “Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce arrive at the US Open.”
A video of the duo singing The Darkness’ “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” was also uploaded by the US Open. Singing from their viewing box, Taylor and Travis were having the best of their lives. “@taylorswift and @killatrav believe in love,” reads the US Open caption.
In a Latinus video, Taylor danced to a tune while Travis held onto her and bobbed his head.
In a different scenario from the same video, Brittany and Patrick were standing next to the singer and player who gave Travis a cheek kiss.
Internet users recognized Taylor’s belly after noticing images of Travis and Taylor during a tennis event. There were rumors that the “Lover” artist was expecting.
One Instagram user commented, “She looks pregnant,” while another questioned, “Is she pregnant?” Another person commented, “That GIRL is pregnant, lol.” Does Taylor Swift have a baby? A user on X commented, “She’s thin but has a slight belly.”
“When is Taylor Swift going to enthusiastically announce that Travis Kelce is pregnant with their child?” quipped a passerby. Some were ecstatic to see Taylor content, regardless of her pregnancy.
“Okay belly, either she’s full or pregnant either way I’m happy for her,” remarked one fan. Another admirer exclaimed, “Taylor looks so happy!” The sentiment was mirrored by someone else who said, “Okay, they’re officially too cute!” It’s too much joy to watch Taylor Swift fall in love.
Although Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce have not addressed the pregnancy rumors, followers still make assumptions and comments.
Days before she and Travis made their US Open debut, Taylor faced criticism for her outfit as well.
On September 5, Taylor supported Travis by dressing controversially during the Kansas City Chiefs vs. Baltimore Ravens game. She wore a scarlet pair of Giuseppe Zanotti boots, a Louis Vuitton purse, and a stunning Medusa ’95 Versace denim corset top when she arrived at Arrowhead Stadium.
Online images of Taylor at the game provoked heated debate. Using a pregnant emoji, one fan proposed getting pregnant. She’s growing hefty, they said.
One more said, “So tacky!” Will there be no fashion consultant for her? “One would think that with all her money, she could have had her stylist choose a better outfit,” remarked another.
Some found the negativity objectionable. One admirer remarked, “Such a cute outfit.” “Can’t believe some people say she “put on too much weight,”” exclaimed one supporter of her. She looks more human than a stick figure.
“Definitely find her more attractive with some extra meat on her bones,” was one comment made by fans in response to Taylor’s makeover. Never was fond of twig bod. The last praise was just, “She’s beautiful.”
Taylor seemed to have had a good time. She sat in Travis’ opulent suite with his parents, Ed and Donna Kelce, after they had entered the stadium.
Clearly at ease with one another, she and Ed engaged in lively conversation and laughter throughout the exciting NFL game.
In a subsequent video, Taylor stood and applauded, encouraging her partner from the sidelines.
In another Instagram picture, Taylor seemed totally absorbed in the game and was shouting loudly.
She celebrates in pictures with Travis’s father, displaying emotion. They fervently enjoyed the game and were Travis’s supporters.
Following the Chiefs’ victory over the Ravens, Travis and Taylor departed Arrowhead Stadium together.
As they walked hand in hand, the couple appeared content and in love. Taylor and Travis are in a public relationship, so their outings frequently go viral. For a variety of reasons, their date night photos became viral in July.
Perceptive observers conversed about the images’ physical attributes. Many have conjectured that Taylor, like her friend Brittany, might be expecting.
Taylor and Travis, a prominent Hollywood couple, were spotted out in London with pals. Their loved ones shared sweet pair images on July 16, which led some on social media to make assumptions about the couple.
According to Summitt Hogue and Brittany’s Instagram pictures, the “Blank Space” artist and tightrope runner from Kansas City is having fun with pals in Europe.
Summitt’s wife, Miranda Hogue, and Brittany’s husband, Patrick, the quarterback for Kansas City, also joined them.
The thrill of their trip was captured on Summitt’s Instagram carousel, which featured everything from trekking in nature reserves and on beaches with his wife and adorable daughters to taking a helicopter ride with Patrick.
In the fifth picture, Summit shared a lovely group shot that included Miranda, Brittany, Travis, Patrick, and Taylor. As the well-known pair moved in front of the other two pairs, Travis wrapped Taylor’s right arm around her shoulders and placed his hand beneath her breasts.
That evening, the vocalist of “Bad Blood” donned a light-blue dress by Vivienne Westwood. $1,010 is the price of the “Sunday gathered cotton midi dress.”
Taylor accessorized her Vivienne Westwood ensemble with a purple purse in the form of a heart. For $721.35 (€660), Taylor offers its “Josephine Heart Crossbody” in croc-embossed leather online. Her heels were block yellow.
Additional European travel adventures can be seen in Brittany’s carousel article. Brittany shared pictures of herself, her husband Patrick, and their adorable babies, Taylor and Travis.
In one stunning picture, Brittany and Taylor shared an embrace as their beaus posed behind them. Summitt was dressed the same way as Taylor.
Travis looked put together in a baseball cap and beige co-ord. Another picture included Taylor kissing Brittany’s head and the two of them hugging.
“What a time #Europe,” is how Summitt titled his photo, and Brittany responded, “London & Amsterdam, a time was had.” Regarding Travis and Taylor showing up in Brittany and Summitt’s Instagram pictures, some sent comments.
People on social media expressed unease about Travis touching his partner with his hand. “Swifties take a closer look at this guy,” a user wrote on Instagram. Whoa.
“Looks like she was trying to move his hand to her waist,” another person remarked. I think it’s hideous and disgusting.
Some people were critical of Taylor’s outfit. One witness questioned, “Why does Taylor’s wardrobe always look like something my grandmother would wear?” Another said, “Taylor needs to fire her stylist.”
Others looked at the couple photo where Travis put one hand on Brittany’s lower abdomen. Travis rubs his lower tummy and gestures to himself. What is meant by that? inquired on social media. “Travy get [Tay] preggers we need little besties for life,” remarked another.
A fan said, “Listen, you and Taylor are so cute!!!” in reference to pregnancy. I adore it, dear! Name my kid Goldie and give her to me. “Brittany & Taylor are both pregnant,” said another.
Although Brittany, a close friend of Taylor’s, has revealed that she will soon become a mother of three, Travis and Taylor have not confirmed their pregnancy.
The HOA President Fined Me Over My Lawn – I Provided Him with More Reasons to Pay Attention
Larry, our clipboard-wielding HOA dictator, had no idea who he was messing with when he fined me for my lawn being half an inch too long. I decided to give him something to really look at, a lawn so outrageous, yet so perfectly within the rules, that he’d regret ever starting this fight.
For decades, my neighborhood was the kind of place where you could sip tea on your porch in peace, wave to the neighbors, and not worry about a thing.
Then Larry got his grubby hands on the HOA presidency.
Oh, Larry. You know the type: mid-50s, born in a pressed polo shirt, thinks the world revolves around his clipboard. From the moment he took office, it was like someone handed him the keys to a kingdom.
Or at least, that’s what he thought.
Now, I’ve been living here for twenty-five years. Raised three kids in this house. Buried a husband too. And you know what I’d learned?
Don’t mess with a woman who’s survived kids and a man who thought barbeque sauce was a vegetable. Larry clearly didn’t get that memo.
Ever since I skipped his precious HOA meeting last summer, he’s been out for blood. Like I needed to hear two hours of droning on about fence heights and paint colors. I had more important things to do — like watching my begonias bloom.
It all started last week.
I was out on the porch, minding my business, when I spotted Larry marching up the driveway, clipboard in hand.
“Oh, here we go,” I muttered, already feeling my blood pressure spike.
He stopped right at the foot of the steps, and didn’t even bother with a hello.
“Mrs. Pearson,” he began, his voice dripping with condescension. “I’m afraid you’ve violated the HOA’s lawn maintenance standards.”
I blinked at him, trying to keep my temper in check. “Is that so? The lawn’s been freshly mowed. Just did it two days ago.”
“Well,” he said, clicking his pen like he was about to write me up for a felony, “it’s half an inch too long. HOA standards are very clear about this.”
I stared at him. Half. An. Inch. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
His smug little grin told me otherwise.
“We have standards here, Mrs. Pearson. If we let one person get away with neglecting their lawn, what kind of message does that send?”
Oh, I could’ve throttled him right there. But I didn’t. Instead, I just smiled sweetly and said, “Thanks for the heads-up, Larry. I’ll be sure to trim that extra half-inch for you.”
Inside, though? I was fuming. Who did this guy think he was? Half an inch?
I’ve survived diaper blowouts, PTA meetings, and a husband who once tried to roast marshmallows using a propane torch. I wasn’t about to let Larry the Clipboard King push me around.
That night, I sat in my armchair, stewing over the whole thing. I thought about all the times in my life I’d been told to “follow the rules,” and how I’d managed to bend them just enough to keep my sanity.
If Larry wanted to play hardball, fine. Two could play that game.
And then it hit me: the HOA rulebook. That stupid, dusty old thing Larry was always quoting. I hadn’t bothered with it much over the years, but now it was time to get acquainted.
I flipped through it for a good hour, and there it was. Clear as day. Lawn decorations, tasteful, of course, were completely allowed, as long as they stayed within certain size and placement guidelines.
Oh, Larry. You poor, unfortunate soul. You had no idea what you’d just unleashed.
The very next morning, I went on the shopping spree of a lifetime. It was glorious. I bought gnomes. Not just any gnomes, though, giant ones. One was holding a lantern, another was fishing in a little fake pond I set up in the garden.
And an entire flock of pink, plastic flamingos. I clustered them together like they were planning some sort of tropical rebellion.
Then came the solar lights. I lined the walkway, the garden, and even hung a few in the trees. By the time I was done, my yard looked like a cross between a fairy tale and a Florida souvenir shop.
And the best part? Every single piece was perfectly HOA-compliant. Not a single rule was broken. I leaned back in my lawn chair, watching the sun set behind my masterpiece.
The twinkling lights came to life, casting a warm glow over my gnome army and the flamingo brigade. It was, in a word, glorious.
But Larry, oh Larry, was not going to take this lying down.
The first time he saw my yard, I knew I had him. I was watering the petunias when I spotted his car creeping down the street. His windows rolled down, his eyes narrowing as they scanned every inch of my lawn.
The way his jaw clenched, his fingers tight on the steering wheel — it was priceless. He slowed to a crawl, staring at the gnome with the margarita, lounging in his lawn chair like he didn’t have a care in the world.
I gave Larry a little wave, extra sweet, as if I didn’t know I’d just declared war.
He stared at me, his face turning the color of a sunburned tomato, and then, without a word, he sped off.
I let out a laugh so loud it startled a squirrel in the oak tree. “That’s right, Larry. You can’t touch this.”
For a few days, I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d let it go. Silly me. A week later, there he was again, stomping up to my door with that clipboard, wearing his HOA President badge like he’d been knighted.
“Mrs. Pearson,” he began, not even bothering with pleasantries, “I’ve come to inform you that your mailbox violates HOA standards.”
I blinked at him. “The mailbox?” I tilted my head toward it. “Larry, I just painted that thing two months ago. It’s pristine.”
He squinted at it like he’d found some imaginary flaw. “The paint is chipping,” he insisted, scribbling something on his clipboard.
I glanced at the mailbox again. Not a chip in sight. But I knew this wasn’t about the mailbox. This was personal.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “All this over half an inch of grass?”
“I’m just enforcing the rules,” Larry said, but the look in his eyes told a different story.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Sure, Larry. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
He turned on his heel and strutted back to his car like he’d just delivered some life-altering decree. I watched him go, fury bubbling up inside me. Oh, he thought he could win this? Fine. Let the games begin.
That night, I hatched a plan. If Larry wanted a fight, he was going to get one. I spent the next morning back at the garden store, loading up on more gnomes, more flamingos, and just for fun, a motion-activated sprinkler system.
By the time I was done, my yard looked like a carnival of absurdity. Gnomes of all sizes stood proudly in formation, some fishing, some holding tiny shovels, and one, my new favorite, lounging in a hammock with a miniature beer in hand.
The flamingos? They’d formed their own pink plastic army, marching across the lawn with solar lights guiding their way.
But the pièce de résistance? The sprinkler system. Every time Larry came by to inspect my yard, the motion sensor would activate, spraying water in every direction. Totally by accident, of course.
The first time it happened, I nearly fell off the porch laughing.
Larry pulled up, clipboard ready, only to be met with a stream of water straight to the face. He spluttered, waving his arms like a drowning cat, and retreated to his car, soaked to the bone.
The look of pure outrage on his face was worth every penny I’d spent.
But the best part? The neighbors started to notice.
One by one, they began stopping by to compliment my “creative flair.”
Mrs. Johnson from three houses down said she loved the “whimsical” atmosphere. Mr. Thompson chuckled, saying he hadn’t seen Larry so flustered in years. And soon, it wasn’t just compliments. The neighbors started putting up their own lawn decorations.
It began with a few garden gnomes, but soon, flamingos popped up all over the cul-de-sac, twinkling lights appeared in every yard, and someone even set up a miniature windmill.
Larry couldn’t keep up.
His clipboard became a joke. The once-feared fines became a badge of honor among the residents, and the more he tried to tighten his grip, the more the neighborhood slipped through his fingers.
Every day, Larry had to drive past our gnomes, our flamingos, and our lights, knowing full well that we’d beaten him at his own game.
And me? I watched the chaos unfold with a smile on my face.
The whole neighborhood had come together, united by lawn ornaments and sheer spite. And Larry, poor Larry, was left powerless, just a man with a soggy clipboard and no authority to back it up.
So, Larry, if you’re reading this, keep on looking. I’ve got plenty more ideas where these came from.
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