So let me start by saying the shining beacon of light on my sad, depressing Sunday without Dick, is my New York Post. It’s my Sunday tradition, and the only paper I really read besides Womens Wear Daily. The Times is full of too much liberal propoganda, Daily News is just dull, and the Post has Page Six. Better yet, Page Six Magazine! Which thank God comes out every week. I hardly ever have time to read magazines but I think this is one of the best written. The articles are so interesting, and very different from others that I read. With the exception of “The Hearst Chronicles,” written by “socialite/model/heiress” Lydia Hearst.
Now I know I promised in my last post about Victoria Beckham that I wouldn’t get political, but I honestly can’t help myself. I haven’t met Lydia, so I have no idea what she’s actually like as a person. But anyone who would write a column like this, in all seriousness, has got to be kidding. I usually just skip over it, but while Dick was watching golf today, I decided to read. There is a photo of her in some lacy red lingerie, with a quote, “You may have seen my new campaign for British lingerie company Myla, which has spawned a bit of mudslinging on the Internet about how I’m Paris Hilton. (Remember: i am a supermodel and I have the award to prove it, and she is a celebrity. There’s no comparison.)
There is no comparison, that’s one correct statement. Lydia, you are not a supermodel. Lord only knows what “award” you think validates the fact that you’re referring to yourself in the company of Naomi Campbell, Kate Moss, and Gisele Bundchen. Supermodels are models that people have actually heard of, models that are well known and internationally recognized. Not models that have to dress in lingerie to get attention. They’ve both modeled for Heatherette, been on European Vogue covers, designed hideous handbags, experimented in journalism, dabbled in acting, and whored around town. In fact, you might say Paris has come out on top in all those categories.
She’s modeled in more campaigns, even for her own brands of perfume, handbags, and jewelery.
She’s designed more handbags, and although quite tacky, just as bad as the Puma bags Lydia designed.
She’s actually written a book or two, rather than a weekly column.
She’s been in several movies, rather than a 2 minute clip on Gossip Girl (being another Chuck Bass victim – and let’s face it, he’ll fuck anyone).
I’m aware Paris is hardly a role-model, and certainly not someone who needs defending. But the only thing more pathetic than acting like Paris, is dropping Paris’s name for publicity.
Lydia Hearst vs. Paris (no last name needed): Try As You Might, You Just Can’t Keep a Bad Girl Down
So let me start by saying the shining beacon of light on my sad, depressing Sunday without Dick, is my New York Post. It’s my Sunday tradition, and the only paper I really read besides Womens Wear Daily. The Times is full of too much liberal propoganda, Daily News is just dull, and the Post has Page Six. Better yet, Page Six Magazine! Which thank God comes out every week. I hardly ever have time to read magazines but I think this is one of the best written. The articles are so interesting, and very different from others that I read. With the exception of “The Hearst Chronicles,” written by “socialite/model/heiress” Lydia Hearst.
Now I know I promised in my last post about Victoria Beckham that I wouldn’t get political, but I honestly can’t help myself. I haven’t met Lydia, so I have no idea what she’s actually like as a person. But anyone who would write a column like this, in all seriousness, has got to be kidding. I usually just skip over it, but while Dick was watching golf today, I decided to read. There is a photo of her in some lacy red lingerie, with a quote, “You may have seen my new campaign for British lingerie company Myla, which has spawned a bit of mudslinging on the Internet about how I’m Paris Hilton. (Remember: i am a supermodel and I have the award to prove it, and she is a celebrity. There’s no comparison.)
There is no comparison, that’s one correct statement. Lydia, you are not a supermodel. Lord only knows what “award” you think validates the fact that you’re referring to yourself in the company of Naomi Campbell, Kate Moss, and Gisele Bundchen. Supermodels are models that people have actually heard of, models that are well known and internationally recognized. Not models that have to dress in lingerie to get attention. They’ve both modeled for Heatherette, been on European Vogue covers, designed hideous handbags, experimented in journalism, dabbled in acting, and whored around town. In fact, you might say Paris has come out on top in all those categories.
She’s modeled in more campaigns, even for her own brands of perfume, handbags, and jewelery.
She’s designed more handbags, and although quite tacky, just as bad as the Puma bags Lydia designed.
She’s actually written a book or two, rather than a weekly column.
She’s been in several movies, rather than a 2 minute clip on Gossip Girl (being another Chuck Bass victim – and let’s face it, he’ll fuck anyone).
I’m aware Paris is hardly a role-model, and certainly not someone who needs defending. But the only thing more pathetic than acting like Paris, is dropping Paris’s name for publicity.
This entry was posted on Monday, August 11th, 2008 at 1:27 am and is filed under Celebrity Commentary, Life and Leisure, Single Life in New York City. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.