We’ll always have Paris

When celebrity bubblehead Paris Hilton recently declared herself a generation’s iconic blond — comparing herself to figures such as Marilyn Monroe and Princess Diana — it was enough to spur at least one Time magazine reader to action. That reader wrote a letter declaring, in short, that Paris is not fit to carry those women’s night-vision handicams.
Now, a person could argue the merits of debating anything Paris Hilton says. Spending any amount of time considering anything that comes out of the “Simple Life” star’s mouth seems like it would be as stimulating as holding a three-day conference to discuss the merits of Coke versus Pepsi. Either way, you’re going to feel empty and a little bit gassy.
In this case, though, it’s especially foolish. Because in this case Paris might actually be right.
Trust me, it hurt to type that just now. Aside from her notable contribution to the “‘Stolen’ sex tape as publicity device,” boom of recent years, a notable accomplishment in its own right, I can’t see any value Paris Hilton has brought to this world. I’m vaguely surprised she was able to use the word “iconic” in the proper context.
But the letter-writer’s claim that Paris did not belong in the same category as Monroe or Princess Di because she lacks the “inner beauty” those women had overlooks one important factor: Paris Hilton’s generation is not about inner beauty. It’s about skin deep. It’s about judging books by their covers. It’s about Dancing with the Stars and Us magazine’s Style Watch.
Consider this: We live in a world where Paris Hilton, who in some bizarre circular fashion appears to be famous solely because she is famous, and who does not appear to have any discernible talent, has published a book. Even worse, we live in a world in which Paris Hilton has published multiple books and continues to appear in a regular television show. Worse still, it’s a world in which even Paris’ obnoxiously tiny dog has published a book. And people apparently are buying them. I’ll admit I haven’t read any of these books (I assume this puts me on an even playing field with Paris), but I can’t imagine people are buying them for their deep philosophical insight. Kant she ain’t.
America, it appears, is fascinated by Paris Hilton. I know this because I see her vacant, vaguely plasticine face everywhere I look. For crying out loud, I can’t even flip through Time without seeing her name.
Who better than Paris Hilton, then, to serve as the iconic blond of a generation of Real World-watching, American Idol-voting, Paris Hilton-listening (Oh, yeah, she’s got a CD out now, too. It’s as terrible as you might imagine and it’s got a cover of Rod Stewart’s Do Ya Think I’m Sexy.) Americans.
I find it somehow ironic that the letter in question appeared in an issue about high-achieving high school students choosing the right college for them.
Besides, are these other so-called blond icons the writer jumps to defend really so great? Sure, Princess Di did a lot of good. She appeared on more People Magazine covers than anyone in history, and there’s the whole landmine thing. But what else was she going to do? It’s not like she had to worry about the rigors of shooting a reality TV show and launching a perfume or going to, like, lots and lots of parties. Text messaging wasn’t even invented in those days.
And Princess Di had palaces full of servants to help her every day. Poor Paris only has mansions full.
I’m pretty sure Princess Di wasn’t even American, although she gets credit for inspiring Elton John enough that when she died he changed like, two words in his song about Marilyn Monroe to create a tribute to her.
I can’t claim any firsthand experience with Marilyn Monroe. I would have liked to have known her, but I wasn’t even a kid.
Based on what little I know, though, I see more parallels than differences between Marilyn and Paris. Paris has her sex tape. Marilyn had her appearance in Playboy, the celebrity sex tape of its time.
Paris Hilton has appeared in terrible movies. Marilyn Monroe appeared in several classic films, although it could be argued her acting played a relatively minor role. Be honest: is The Seven Year Itch a classic because Marilyn Monroe so thoroughly inhabited the role of “The Girl,” as imdb.com credits her, or because she was willing to let Billy Wilder blow hot air up her skirt?
In her defense, Paris Hilton has not died of a drug overdose. Yet.
And if she really wants to be the icon of this generation she won’t. She’ll die of a heart attack brought on by eating every meal at McDonalds and never exercising. And it’ll happen while she’s watching “The Biggest Loser.”