The other almost-supernatural aspect of Hilton’s reign of harebrained horror is the way that she herself remains intact while those around her wither. Hilton is like some kind of Dorian Gray cockroach. While her buddies waste away and collapse and see their careers flushed down the celebrity toilet after having been in her presence, she grows stronger: appearing on more magazine covers, getting bigger record contracts, attracting more attention, sleeping with more of her fading friends’ boyfriends. Even her Plasticine exterior seems unravaged by her excessive behaviors.
She is, frustratingly, indestructible. Hilton has been caught on tape referring to two black friends as “dumb n*ggers.” She has been arrested for drunk driving. She has peed herself in a taxicab in Hawaii. She has vomited onstage while singing her own songs. She has laughed like a retarded hyena as boyfriends like Davis and Niarchos have embarrassed themselves and ruined their own reputations. And yet, she has never had to go on Letterman to apologize; she has never had to meet with leaders of a community to make amends; she never even had to clean the taxi that she befouled. As a completely non-achieving celebrity, there are no higher moral, spiritual or intellectual expectations burdening the heiress. So she’s a moronic, racist, boyfriend-stealing, talentless twit? Surprise. We never thought her anything better.
The only way to ‘kill’ her, of course, is to completely ignore her. Minus the power to command our car-wreck voyeurism, she will melt away like the Wicked Witch Of The West in bucket of water. Problem is, there is usually an exposed and depiliated vagina in her immediate vicinity, often her own, which makes it nearly impossible for the straight men of Planet Earth to look away or stop taking pictures.
SALON: “For too many years we have sat, paralyzed in the tractor beam of her wall-eyed celebrity, watching mutely as bad things happened to her band of D-list compatriots.”
HEAR NO EVIL: Mystery Tramps
[Artwork via PrettyOnTheOutside]