The steamy details of that sex tape, behind-the-scenes dirt on walking the famous runways of Milan, what it's like to party with rock gods and movie stars, and, of course, what it feels like to be filthy rich: that's what the reader expects to get when they delve into Paris Hilton's new book, "Confessions of an Heiress: A Tongue-in-Chic Peek Behind the Pose." The book was recently released by Simon and Schuster and was hardly greeted with a line around the block. Those who actually did buy the book got just exactly what you would expect from someone that didn't even graduate from high school: a huge flop.
This book assumes that there are individuals who actually care how low Paris' jeans can go, or what size her feet are, which seems implausible. It looks more as if someone just indulged a little rich girl and published her 'book'. By the way, there actually is an entire chapter devoted to just exactly how low Paris' jeans really can go.
Content aside, the book is still nothing more than crap. All 178 pages are written in a crude, elementary manner. Short, non-descriptive sentences form choppy paragraphs that you can easily view as thoughts bouncing around in her empty blonde head. But if you like her blonde, she tells you exactly which colorist does the best bleach jobs. That's such a plus. Woohoo.
One redeeming factor is the array of photos Paris includes. Taking into account the few clothes that Paris usually dons, the book could actually be classified as soft-core porn based on these pictures. Caleb Chaplain '07 gave an appropriate response when he first saw it, exclaiming, "What? Paris wrote a book? Oh wait, it's a picture book."
Speaking of clothes, Paris is ever so generous and decides to give her readers hints on how to be as fashionable as the heiress herself: "Show off your navel and belly. Everyone thinks guys are all about boobs and legs. I think they're really into stomachs." Paris' cardinal rule is "Don't be boring." At least no one will ever tell her that she didn't follow her own rules.
By about the fourth page, the reader begins to wrestle with not only why they purchased the book, but also what Paris' aim is in publishing it. With nearly every topic including a favorites list, it could be taken as either a wish list or as not-so-subtle self-praising. Giving kudos to her favorite shoe designers, favorite clubs, favorite stylists, and favorite dress designers, it seems as if the "Simple Life" star is sucking up for comps. "Accept free stuff. If people want to give it to me, why shouldn't I take it? I love it!" Does it count if you practically beg for it though, Paris?
But at least she doesn't limit herself to the superficial and includes a list of her favorite books. Upon recovering from the shock that Paris can read, the reader finds that indeed she whiles away her time with her favorite, "Ultimate Style: The Best of the Best-Dressed List."
The most atrocious part of the book can be attributed to Tinkerbell, Paris' teacup Chihuahua. The heiress delves into the world of creative writing, assuming the role of Tinkerbell, and she really didn't want to go there. Tinkerbell tries "never to swear even when [she's] barking mad. A well-bred dog does not swear, even when she's barking or growling." Oh, the world can sleep better now knowing that Tinkerbell Hilton does not swear.
At least we all know that Paris has a sense of humor -- that's evident in her publishing a book and actually thinking that anyone would care.
