WHY I SUDDENLY LOVE PARIS HILTON
I haven’t thought at Paris Hilton for years. Except, fleetingly, when I was working at Sunday Style and we bought an interview with her from a British colour supplement. That caused me to muse on the fact of her bad career timing.
Had Paris come of age as a pink-clad party girl a decade later, she’d no doubt have rivalled Kim Kardashian as a Givenchy f’rower. Maybe she'd have published a book of selfies with Rizzoli.
But back in 2005, her particular brand of famous-for-being-famous was too far ahead of the Zeitgeist. We weren't quite there yet: bobbing about in a sea of vapid clickbate, celebrating the most the people who did the least. Her celebrity made us scratch our heads and wonder aloud: "What was Paris Hilton's fame for? What was the point of it?"
Instagram was the point, obvs. Only Kevin Systom hadn’t invented it yet.
Suddenly I find myself happy to see Paris Hilton back in my inbox. And the reason is this: her April Fool's gag-advert for Sodastream. It's arch and clever. And even though it's a joke, it's also serious. Because, actually, bottled water does indeed need to be given the heave-ho, and ocean plastic does indeed kill sea turtles. And if Paris can help spread the word, even inadvertently while trying to flog us an at-home water-carbonating thingo, then I say: yay.
Plus, she's really quite funny, isn't she? Who knew? I just followed her on Instagram.