Pariiiiiiiis? Are you smart? Shit.
Not such an interesting or pertinent question.
(Obvi-tons: she's not a scholar but she knows just what she's doing. And let's not waste anymore time crying that she doesn't "do anything." What she "does" is work to convince you that she isn't "doing anything.")
Last night's MTV-aired documentary on the controversial personality, Paris, Not France, which, unlike this year's Britney Spears doc, was not created for the network (I think its makers hoped for theatrical release), asked after her smartness, because it seems to have been made years ago, when the dialogue about Paris was much less...developed. Frankly, the film made me sick. Not on account of Paris or anything that she said. On account of the mad camera tricks. The thing gave me VERTIGO. Pillow said, "we're gonna die tonight," and I nearly believed her. Truly, I had the spins. I figure the jerking and psychedelia and filming upside down in mirrors is meant to impart Paris' pilled-out-ness, so...effective-sort-of? But mucho time was spent rehashing the sex tape. AS IF THAT EVEN MATTERS NOW. Well, the tape does matter. But I want to discuss it beyond the olde gossip context and public humiliation and did she really plan its release or not. I want to talk about what it means now, as the bizarro launch of a bonafide superstar (the 2000 Vanity Fair spread was when I really took notice, but...). I liked it when Paris said she was much younger than 19 and blacked out or disassociative or whatever when Rick took the footage--that felt like the truth, in a human-drama way, not a scoopy, journalistic way...it felt familiar, really. There ought to have been more Camille Paglia, more analysis of her image, her life as an image. There was an incredible segment of Paris and Nicky doing a little press tour in Japan, a joy. Oh, to be big in Japan! Oh, the sweet sights and sounds of 2003! Last year sometime, Paris wore a vintage Cavalli to an awards show. The vintage of the dress was 2003. For me, it was a real head-turner. The choice spoke volumes: of course she was in on it dummy she maybe didn't "know" all along but by now she certainly did and was an icon of the aughts and the aughts were passing and she was being self-referential in the BEST way. And her current reality number, Paris Hilton's My New BFF, is fantastic. I'm through being miffed about the person-as-brand stuff, because it's how it works and she is totes brilliant at it (and she's done a lot for the English language). At one point in the documentary, Michael Musto (who is very important to me), claims people hate Paris because "she's that girl from high school, etc..." That's how tired, how phoned-in the line of commentary was. Through most of Paris' reign, I took umbrage at costumes and performance. I thought "unstudied" was the only way. Now, I understand that's deluded. My "unstudied" is a costume too, just a more elitist one. I wasn't all-only-ever-about elitist slouch. I'm writing a book on Britney Spears, because I've always (since 1998) thought of her as important in her costumes. Paris should have made sense to me like Britney made sense to me. But Brit is a tragic figure, and Paris most decidedly is NOT. I had to age a bit to learn how to celebrate the flinty and "invulnerable" characters of this world.
...Now for the Lindsay (again with the tragedy) five-parter...
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