Taylor Swift is no stranger to the courtroom, but the latest legal battle over her Eras Tour visuals feels different. It isn't about a missed royalty check or a sampled melody. It’s about a pose. Specifically, a "Showgirl" stance that a burlesque performer claims Swift lifted directly from her own signature choreography. Intellectual property in the dance world is notoriously murky, and this case pushes the boundaries of what a person can actually own. If you can copyright a specific way of leaning against a chair or tilting a feathered fan, the entire performing arts industry is in for a massive shake-up.
Why a Simple Pose Triggered a Legal Storm
The heart of the lawsuit centers on the "Vigilante Shit" segment of the Eras Tour. If you've seen the show, you know the vibe. It’s dark, noir-inspired, and heavily borrows from the aesthetic of 1920s cabaret and Bob Fosse’s Chicago. The plaintiff, a seasoned burlesque artist, argues that Swift’s specific sequence of movements—the way she interacts with the furniture and the precise angles of her body—is too similar to a routine she’s been performing for years.
Copyright law generally protects "choreographic works," but it doesn't usually cover individual steps or simple poses. You can’t copyright a kick-ball-change. You can’t own the "dab." But the line between a "simple move" and a "choreographed sequence" is where things get messy. The plaintiff isn't just saying Taylor stood in a way that looked familiar. She’s claiming the entire "Showgirl" persona and the specific mechanical execution of the chair routine were her intellectual property.
The Problem with Owning an Aesthetic
Burlesque is a genre built on shared history. It’s a culture of homage. For decades, performers have leaned on the same visual language: corsets, feathers, chairs, and dramatic lighting. When we look at the history of the showgirl, we're looking at a lineage that stretches back to the Moulin Rouge and the Ziegfeld Follies.
Swift’s defense will likely lean heavily on this shared history. Her team doesn't have to prove she didn't see the plaintiff’s work. They just need to show that the moves in question are "scènes à faire"—a legal term for elements that are standard or indispensable to a certain genre. If you’re doing a burlesque-inspired number, you’re probably going to use a chair. You’re probably going to arch your back. You’re probably going to look over your shoulder with a smoldering gaze.
I’ve seen dozens of these routines in small clubs and massive theaters. Honestly, they all share a DNA. That’s the point. It’s a classic trope. If the court sides with the plaintiff, it sets a precedent where any artist who references a historical style could be sued by someone else who "did it first" in the modern era. That’s a dangerous road for creativity.
How Courts Define Dance as Property
The U.S. Copyright Office has pretty strict guidelines on what qualifies as a choreographic work. To get protection, a dance must be a series of dance movements or patterns organized into a coherent whole. It’s not just about the "vibes." It’s about the specific notation or recording of the steps.
- Complexity Matters: A single pose is almost never copyrightable.
- Originality: The work must be independently created and show a "modicum" of creativity.
- Fixation: The dance has to be recorded or written down in a way that others can follow.
In this case, the plaintiff has to prove that Swift’s team didn't just take inspiration from the general concept of a showgirl, but that they copied the "selection, coordination, and arrangement" of the specific movements. It’s a high bar. We saw something similar with the "Fortnite" dance lawsuits where celebrities tried to sue over emotes. Most of those failed because the courts ruled the dances were too short and simple to be protected.
The Eras Tour and the Pressure of Perfection
The Eras Tour is the highest-grossing tour in history. When you’re operating at that level, every detail is scrutinized. Swift’s team includes some of the best choreographers in the world. Did they look at burlesque references? Almost certainly. Did they intentionally "steal" a specific routine from an independent artist? That’s much harder to believe.
Big productions usually have "clearance" experts whose entire job is to make sure they aren't infringing on existing works. However, the world of independent burlesque is vast and largely undocumented in the mainstream. It’s entirely possible for two artists to arrive at a similar visual conclusion when they’re both drinking from the same well of historical inspiration.
What This Means for Independent Creators
There is a real power imbalance here. On one side, you have an independent artist who feels her life's work has been co-opted by a billionaire pop star. On the other, you have a global brand that arguably brings more eyes to the burlesque aesthetic than anyone else.
If you're a creator, this case is a wake-up call. You need to document your work. If you have a truly unique sequence of movements, record it, date it, and if possible, register the choreography. Don't just post it on Instagram and hope for the best.
At the same time, we have to be careful about "gatekeeping" styles. If we start litigating every pose, the only people who will be able to afford to perform are the ones with the biggest legal budgets. That’s not a win for the arts.
Action Steps for Artists and Performers
If you're worried about your own intellectual property or want to avoid getting sued yourself, here’s how to handle it.
First, keep a "paper trail" of your influences. If you’re building a routine, note down the historical performances you’re referencing. This shows you’re pulling from the public domain, not a contemporary peer.
Second, if you're an independent performer who thinks your work was taken, don't just head to social media. Consult an intellectual property attorney who specializes in the performing arts. Most general lawyers don't understand the nuances of choreography.
Finally, recognize the difference between an "homage" and "theft." An homage takes a well-known trope and adds a new twist. Theft takes a unique, specific expression and passes it off as original. The courts will decide where Taylor Swift’s showgirl pose falls, but for the rest of us, the best defense is a clear record of your own creative process. Stop worrying about who might copy your "look" and start focusing on the specific, complex sequences that only you can execute. That’s where the real legal protection lies.
