The World According To Paris: Same Shit, Different Show

By Tracie Egan Morrissey | June 2, 2011 | 8:55pm

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The trashiest thing about Paris Hilton’s new Oxygen series—and there’s plenty to choose from—is that it’s a reality show about a former reality star. And although we’ve been promised in the media blitz (including interviews on The View, Today, and Piers Morgan) leading up to last night’s premiere that we’d be getting to see the “real” Paris this time around, viewers are subjected to the same scripted crap that made her a “brand” with The Simple Life: The baby voice, the blond extensions, the pink everything, the chihuahua, the self-centered disregard for other humans, and relying on her more interesting friends to make it all watchable. Enter Brooke Mueller, crackhead mother of two and Charlie Sheen’s ex-wife. For some reason, cameras are following her around when Paris is not present, to focus on her own drama which involves her assistant/former lesbian lover and what looks to be a storyline that will involve her falling off the wagon.

In the intro to the show, the socialite says that it’s time to “say goodbye to Paris the party girl and hello to Paris the adult.” One of the ways that this transition is marked is by filming her doing her court-ordered community service stemming from a recent arrest for cocaine possession (to which she refers on the show as “an incident in Vegas”). Paris also has a problem when she learns that her newly hired assistant writes scripts for porn movies as a side gig. Paris doesn’t want to be even tangentially associated with the adult entertainment industry after her own sex tape scandal (even though she actually receives profits from One Night in Paris) so she forces the assistant—whom she privately refers to as a “pervert” and sex weirdo in reference to her occupation—to quit writing dirty movies. The biggest disconnect in all of this is that Paris allows the reality cameras to film her naked while she bathes. If this is the real Paris, it’s everything we’ve already seen before—on the sex tape and her previous reality shows. And that’s fine if that’s what sells her press-on nails and false eyelashes. But then, you know, don’t try to tell us that her show is anything but the same old extension of her brand. Don’t pee on our legs and tell us it’s raining. You, Paris, might like to pretend you’re stupid, but don’t expect the rest of us to do the same.