Z100 premiered Paris Hilton's new song on Monday morning. Billy and I listen to Elvis Duran and the Z Morning Zoo every day in the shower. We love their phone taps and their banter and the (usually) good music they play in the morning. As I finished my shower on Monday, Billy came into the bathroom to shave. I heard Elvis talking hyping up the fact that they were about to play the song, but I couldn't hang around in the bathroom to listen to it (I have a routine to stick to, you know). I had, however, heard bits and pieces of the song on the internet, having watched Paris attempt seductive, come-hither moves on a white sandy beach while accidentally flashing her nipple on TMZ. I'll admit, I wasn't as repulsed as I thought I'd be by her "music." But, in my defense, I hadn't heard the whole song.
I went back into the bathroom minutes later, to find that I'd just missed her vocal stylings. "So," I said to Billy, reaching past him for my new Pantene Hair Serum. "How horrible was the song?"
"Not bad, actually," he replied, rinsing his face in the sink.
"Hmph," I uttered, flipping my head over to apply product to my hair. I began scrunching the serum into my strands.
"Actually, it sounds a little Gwen Stefani-ish," he offered.
I stopped scrunching. How dare he compare Paris Hilton to Gwen Stefani. One is an icon, one of my heros. The other? She's an airhead. And kinda slutty.
"I don't think so," I replied, haughtily. "I heard some of it online, and I hardly think it sounded anything like Gwen Stefani." I followed my statement with a snort of contempt, a sort of half-laugh that was meant to illustrate my superior taste. "Gwen is a muscial genius. Paris is just, Paris." My voice dripped with disdain.
Billy loves Paris Hilton. Because she's hot. And naughty. And stupid. All of the things men admire in objects of lust. (He would not, however, choose to be stranded on a desert island with her. I asked.) And he knows how I feel about her. I think he enjoys defending her to me because it gets me all riled up.
"Why do all women hate Paris Hilton?" he asked, purely curious this time. Not at all mocking, as is his usual M.O.
"I don't know." I finished my hair and flipped my head back to the upright position. I grasped for a tangible reason to hate her. "Because she's stupid, I guess."
But that's not the real reason. The real reason is that I'm jealous. It's just not fair that she got to be born with all that money, and an incredible body. It's not fair that she gets to dress in high-end designer clothing without having to work for it. I hate that she fucks up over and over again, and still has the balls to keep going back out. I'm jealous of her confidence. She thinks she's the hottest, best, most amazing thing in the world. And no one could convince her differently if they tried. She suffered the embarrassment of a sex tape, and yet she still wouldn't go away. She didn't hide in shame. She just kept on doing what she was doing. She made no excuses. She's unflappable. And she's not ashamed to try acting, to try singing. To just try. And, I'm sorry, but I can't help but admire that about her. And that makes me mad. So I just decide to hate her instead.
Because ME? I make a mistake and I'm crucified for it. If not by someone else, then by myself. I have to work for everything I have, and my purchases are made at TJ Maxx. And, God, if I went through that sex tape scandal, I'd hole myself up in my bedroom and never come out. And I'm too chicken shit to sing kareoke. I'm afraid to even attempt to write for a living - and that's something I know I'm good at it. So, yeah, I admire her guts. I'm covetous of them.
But I still think the song sucks.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
8 comments:
Not to mention she's the kind of girl who would totally sleep with your boyfriend, or trash you behind your back.
That's what makes men's defense of her so infuriating, at least to me. Of course you love her! She's constantly seeking validation through her sexuality!
Luckily, my boyfriend thinks she's a skank, too.
...that said, I kind of agree with Billy about the Gwen thing. *sigh*
It's not that she's unflappable or that she has the guts to get back out there after all the stupid shit that she's done. It's just that she's stupid. I had extensive dealings with someone similar, whose role model was actually Paris. (Ha.) She seemed to have a lot of confidence, too, but it wasn't really confidence. She was just really, really, excruciatingly stupid and didn't know any better.
On a related note, I also suffered the shame of a sex scandal. I came out ok, but the goat never worked again.
Hah! I just asked Z the whole "desert island with Paris Hilton" thing. Know what he said? Yes.
Ew.
I don't hate Paris out of jealousy. I'm disgusted by the amount of pride that she seems to take in being such an airhead. No matter how "hot" (and that's up for debate), or how rich she is, she can't buy intelligence.
The reason I hate Paris Hilton isn't that she has all those things handed to her that most of us have to work for. I hate her because all those things were handed to a stupid, no-talent, crass, ugly, no-talent skank instead of someone who could put those wonderful things to BEST use.
Just keep writing--you'll get there. I saw this piece the other day and somehow it resonated, so I'm passing it along:
http://wetnoodleposse.blogspot.com/2006/05/writing-is-just-like-rowing-i-bet-you.html
M., thankfully, doesn't even know who Paris is. That's one of the benefits of pushing 50 and not getting any TV reception.
I don't the woman to dislike her.
But some of her antics don't leave much to the imagination.
She is awfully pretty
Paris makes me roll my eyes like you won't believe. I DON'T find her attractive at all and hubby only finds her mildly attractive.
As much as I like to hate her, I do think that she's been able to accomplish a lot for being so young...I'll give her that much. How much of it is actually her own creativity? That, I don't know.
Okay, I'll say it too...I was trying to be diplomatic in saying I envy her tenacity. In truth, I do despise her being famous and rich, despite the fact that she does absolutely nothing. And there are few things in this life that irritate me more than ridiculously stupid women. There is nothing hot about being one step up, intellectually, from a rodent. Nothing.
I'm just glad I'm not alone in this. :)
Post a Comment