Paris Whoreton and Her Little Dog, Too
By Mike Berlin
Did you know that Paris Hilton loves wearing the color baby blue, really high Gucci heels, and velour jumpsuits?
I do, because I’ve spent sufficient time studying this pop culture phenomenon, from her extensive fashion to her favorite literary works of art. It’s all in her book Confessions of an Heiress.
Despite what many think, Paris can actually read and write, and given the fact that she can practically do anything that money can buy, she decided to write an expose behind-the-scenes of her much dramatized life.
I tried to hide my blind hatred for her as I read the book with a somewhat open mind. Seventy-five percent of the book was comprised of bright and visually pleasing pictures, each one of Paris sporting an “outrageous” outfit and a whorish smile. I made it through the few pages taking in what Paris had to say about her media image, and how she allows people to have fun with her in the tabloids because she doesn’t take herself that seriously. And then I decided to become an heiress just like Paris. But on page ten the book ventures into the depths of moral shallowness and never returnes after Paris shares “My Instructions on how to be an Heiress.”
Rule one is to “be born into the right family.” I laughed, thinking she would make some lowbrow joke about how it is literally impossible to become an heiress. But instead, she asserted, “If an heiress is in control of everything, why shouldn’t she be control of who she’s born to?” I envisioned many sperm with tiaras and Paris’s face waiting for the billion-dollar hotel egg.
She then says that if you do have a crappy family, then you can make up a different family from your real one to tell people about. It’s like she’s saying that poor children are stupid for choosing to be born to poor families. I envisioned telling my mom that I was ashamed of her because she didn’t marry into a rich enough family. Then I would tell her about the fake mom I made up for the press, who lived in the Hamptons and wore velour jumpsuits, but not black or gray jumpsuits, because according to Paris, that is not acceptable.
Seeing that I have $600 in my bank account, I had a rough time following her rules. But with proper budgeting, I figured I could drop out of college and become an heiress with the money I save; it would be worth it once I was famous for being a skanky socialite and everyone knew my name.
Then come the rest of the rules.
Rule 8: Never have only one cell phone when you can have many.
Rule 9: Never wear the same thing twice.
Rule 16: Always have a very big bodyguard.
The rest of the book entails the various obnoxious and boring details of Paris’s life. The fashion chapter could be the largest name-drop I’ve ever seen. The section entitled “I Love My Stilettos—the Stairway to Heaven” lists nine different high heel manufacturers that Paris likes. Did you know that Paris loves to wear cashmere jumpsuits as well as velour? Did you know that Paris looks curious in yellow? Did you also know that Paris loves Brazilian jeans?! Well, these are all individual sections of the fashion chapter. She even lists shopping in Japanese malls and wearing Gucci heels as hobbies.
So, if you don’t have as much money as her, then you’re out of luck and $12 poorer from buying her book online, used.
Although, if you still want to be like Paris, but don’t have the cash, you can follow some less expensive advice. Refer to the secion entitled, “My Best Accessory” (no, it’s not a platinum encrusted tiara). Paris’s BEST accessory is a boyfriend. I thought, “Whoa! Look at Paris objectifying men and crossing gender boundries!”
But, alas, she offers for getting guys like: “Never be too easy...guys want to compete; it makes them feel important.” She also says if you have to do more than smile and look cute to attract a guy, you should go home and start over, because you don’t feel like you look amazing. Oh Paris, where would we be without your practical advice?
If this lovely novel/expose hasn’t wet your whistle for horrible, B-list celebrity trash, you can watch VH1. If you don’t have cable, you can get her dog’s book. You can also get her upcoming album, rumored to drop this year, with the single, “Screwed.” But please remember her most important advice: “Never go out when it’s raining, unless you have a Gucci umbrella.”
Tinkerbell Says His Piece
Aside from having the hottest clothes, vacationing spots and friends, Paris has a very expensive Teacup Chihuahua named Tinkerbell. Not only is this dog one of the richest dogs in America, it’s also one of the most literate dogs in America, too, seeing that he also has a book entitled The Tinkerbell Hilton Diaries.
Yes, the dog is the listed author…along with “D. Resin.”
I ended up buying this book with the same burning curiosity that I had when checking out Paris’s. I had to find out which was a better writer, Paris or the dog. Obviously, Tinkerbell won that contest, even meriting a few laughs from my skeptical mouth.
For instance: “I’m one of those dogs now…the kind that people cheer when a falcon swoops down and disappears into the sky with one in its talons.”
The book is still horribly pointless and recounts various uninteresting details of Paris’s life, but it adds some cynical humor to the mix, criticizing Paris on her fashion, cash spending and attitudes.