Paris & Nicky Hilton

Evidently, it's a fake-hair-palooza at GFY HQ today. Initially, I was going to fold this photo of Paris Hilton's box of extensions into other bit with her that I did, but in fact, it demands its own post -- in part because there is no way Paris, either in real life or in parody, could offer the proper perspective on the hilariousness of this packaging. Seriously, it may have made my morning.

Behold, The Bandit:

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Or should I say, "The Bandit," thanks to the unnecessary quotation marks that give it a delicious ironic air-quotes effect -- like whoever designed this is all, "Seriously, the only similarity this has to an actual bandit is that it ALSO should be outlawed." And yet it is AWESOME.  I particularly enjoy the gentle elegance of Paris' heartfelt "That's Hot!" endorsement. It amuses me that the packaging's proofreader refused to let Paris spell it with her signature "hott" and yet allowed the erroneous non-word "Everytime" to find its way on there. Not that anyone will notice, because we are all too hypnotized by Paris's sultry gaze. Yes, thanks to her 22-inch hair that's been hot-glue-gunned to a piece of cloth, Paris FINALLY has the confidence to undress you with her eyes, although I think she also wears that same expression when she attempts math, uses her microwave, or is asked to spell her name.

However, I completely believe the claim that this product has "fashion on the run," as there is no way anyone or anything associated with actual fashion -- except maybe the Heatherette boys -- would do anything but flee screaming from this. And yet I am equally certain I will end up buying it at some point, because I have a not-so-secret love of deeply fake hair and its attendant camp factor, and Halloween is RIGHT around the corner. In fact, I wore J.Simp's extensions the year I went as Fergie, but those clip in and can't be torn off in the head of a catfight without some serious scalp issues. So these might be even better. I mean, what if I want to go as Dr. Kimberly Shaw but I don't want to shell out for an actual wig? Perfect: I can rewrite her famous Melrose Place scene as, "She Ripped Off Her Headbandit." I may owe Paris a major debt of gratitude here.
August 25, 2008

The Fuggit By Fuggis Hilton

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"Dear Diary,

"Psst! Over here! Tell me honestly: Can you see the bronzer line on my palm? You can, huh? Damn, I wanted everything to be perfect today, Diary! Because I'm launching my new line of hair extensions that are, like, sewed to a headband, or something, and I needed it to be a special day. But it's already ruined, because not only did I just now discover that I have freakishly long Arsenio Hall fingers AND self-tanner marks, but stupid Nicky totally lied to me. I e-mailed her last week and told her I wanted to dress up like a candy striper today, right? Because I read somewhere that people called "candy stripers" work in hospitals helping the needy, and my fake hair is saving people in their hour of desperation, and stuff, so it's like totally the same. And then Nicky showed up with THIS thing, and I was like, "Dude, this doesn't even come off easily, and there are no pasties and there's not even any glitter," and Nicky's all, "Whoa, fool, 'candy striper' is pronounced like STRIPE, not like STRIPPER," and I cried for like TWO MINUTES. 

"And then I remembered that I totally brought a costume change with me that would save the day. Do you want to see it, Diary? Do you? I thought so:
July 30, 2008

One Fug In Paris

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[Photo: WENN]

BENJI: Ready to go, Paris?

PARIS: Word.

BENJI: OK, let me just unlock the car.

PARIS: SNAP, dude.

BENJI: What is wrong with you?

PARIS: Nothing. I'm hip.

BENJI: Really.

PARIS: Yes. We're, like, takin' it to the streets in a Hybrid. I am way cool and I want to save the Izod layer.

BENJI: You mean ozone layer?

PARIS: Whatever. Dig it, Jack -- I'm in a SUIT, I look like a freaking lawyer, but my hat keeps it REAL, because I am real. I want to go to go to wherever this iPhone layer is and I'm going to save it. Maybe by taking photos with orphans. I'm, like, out here fixing people's lives.

BENJI: I'm pretty sure shorts and a vest don't all count as a suit. Also, we're not doing charity work. We're shopping.

PARIS: Yeah, and I am pretty sure that changed at least one shopgirl's entire world, because now she has, like, my autograph, and knows what I smell like. Now stop bugging me, and either get me pregnant so I can change THAT child's life, or go away.

BENJI: Tempting.

PARIS: Which one?

BENJI: Both.
I always kind of hate it when Paris Hilton looks good.

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[Photo: WENN]

I mean, it's not an outfit that revolutionizes my approach to life, or anything, but she looks good -- or at least, not stupid, like when she wears t-shirts with her face or her name on them. Sigh. It doesn't seem fair, does it? She's pretty much the Prom Queen of gross and tacky famewhores, so by all rights she should be guzzling too much spiked punch and then puking all over her dress and down Kim Kardashian's cleavage right in front of the principal, while Brody Jenner and his bros point and laugh and dump another mickey of rum into a bowl of Hi-C orange. Double sigh. Credit where credit is due, I guess.

Does this mean I'm growing up? I hope not.
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[Photo: Splash News]

PARIS: Nicky! I thought we AGREED we were going to wear matching maxi-dresses with unseasonable pumps tonight!

NICKY: What's that noise? It almost sounds like someone is talking to me. But that's impossible, since there's no one else here.

PARIS: NICKY! Listen to me! Why aren't you wearing what I picked out for you? WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE MATCHY!

NICKY: Gosh, it sure is nice to have a night out alone, away from my super annoying bossy sister who is always trying to make me wear shiny shit from, like, Forever 21. It's refreshing to wear whatever I want. Even if that is a latex mini.

PARIS: PAY ATTENTION TO MEEEEE!

NICKY: La la la, I can't hear anything.


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[Photo: Splash News]

You know, I am someone whose opinion of celebrities is not terribly hard to change. I get sick of people I used to like (Katherine Heigl) and decide that I kind of dig people I used find annoying (Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz -- I can't help it, he seems funny). I start to have sympathy for people I used to be sick of (Jessica Simpson) and I get bored of people having the same old problems all the time (Jennifer Aniston). But I have never thought to myself, "you know, I was wrong about that Paris Hilton. She's totally misunderstood." She's wearing a wreath of plastic flowers. On her head. At night. To a club. With that dress. And accessorized with yet another expression of Serene Love and Devotion. Even Benji Madden looks embarrassed.
June 19, 2008

My New BFFug

There is something mildly hilarious to me about Paris Hilton's latest ploy for attention, by which I mean the way she's clearly trying to seduce us all into believe that she is with child:

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[Photo: INFDaily.com]

Since she was recently spied whooping it up and drinking heavily, I assume Benji Madden's seed has not yet found purchase in her womb. And yet no one in the world could convince me that Paris isn't trying to make us suspect otherwise with this particular choice of outfit -- and posture. The top itself is actually rather cute (though the leather jacket is a bit heavy on it), but I guarantee you that it was chosen for Maximum Bump-ability. Paris is the only non-pregnant woman in the world who would welcome people wondering when she is due, rather than frantically making plans to hit the gym, thanks to her own desperate need for attention. You know you're frantic to steal the spotlight when you put on a top and say, "does this make me look kind of pregnant? AWESOME." And yet I confess that I hope this turns into a full-on faux pregnancy -- complete with a bag of flour strapped to her belly and beatific smiles for the paparazzi as they catch her skipping out of the OBGYN -- if only because it will be so amusing when her scam is revealed. Can't you see the cover of US Weekly? Faking a pregnancy is even juicier than going to jail!

And what's more:


[Photo: Splash News]

YAWN. Check, please.

May 16, 2008

Fug Fug

At first, I thought Paris Hilton might have been allowed to attend one of the many global horse-racing events that encourage crazy hats and wonky poses like you are deeply drunk on Pimm's Cups.

But, no. She's just promoting her fragrance, "Can Can," which a) I am afraid might be so named because it smells like Paris does after a night of dancing at the clubs, and b) is apparently aimed at girls who piss off their cousins by going to their country weddings wearing white dresses and hats that resemble a contemporary-art take on bird excrement; cozying up to the cute young vicar at the reception after pouring vodka into his tonic; and then dragging him under the head table to make out until they are discovered midway through the father-daughter dance, at which point he's got lipstick on his forehead and his pants are on his head.

Sigh.

In the wake of news that Project Runway's first season for Lifetime will be shot in Los Angeles, I am concerned that Paris Hilton is putting together a portfolio of pieces for her audition.

I am not sure how else to explain this, except that Paris dared herself to create an outfit from nothing but an existing dress and the contents of Candy Spelling's wrapping room. Which might be spectacularly prescient of her if Macy's pulls out and Tim Gunn is forced to remind his designers to make full use of the Hallmark Gold Crown Store Accessories Wall, but otherwise makes me hope the maid will sneak into Paris's room at night and disable the hot-glue gun.

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