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, Steven Soderbergh’s new film about a group of male strippers in Tampa, plays with a fantasy of male domination that is familiar to many women, though antithetical to modern ideals of romance: a strong, handsome man is so consumed with lust for a woman that he carts her off and has his way with her, giving no thought to ethical or emotional considerations.An early scene portrays the uptight sister of a new stripper coming to the club to check up on her brother.
It’s down a long road flanked by white potato fields—a giant Dutch Colonial home inside a gated development, with a yard bigger than a prep-school playing field. “The boys said, Paris is marrying Leonardo Di Caprio? ” “People think I’m just this party girl,” says Paris. “She knows she’s going to have to start supporting herself,” Kathy says. A friend describes how Paris behaves when she enters a hotel belonging to the family, which includes the Waldorf-Astoria: “She’ll, like, roll up to the Waldorf like snap, snap to the desk clerk: You give me a key’ … in seventh grade we would just all sit home on a Friday night and watch movies and, like, make up dances, and in New York there’s, like, house parties and boys … Her friends were what someone calls other “kids of”: Nicole Ritchie, daughter of Lionel; Kidada Jones, daughter of Quincy; Brent Shapiro, son of Robert; Bijou Phillips, daughter of John. “There were kids there who were serious ballerinas,” says Kathy, by way of explanation—and so in her junior year Paris transferred to Dwight, a private school on Central Park West. She was different from everybody else,” says a Dwight classmate. “No one saw her anymore at school and there was no explanation.” So people started to talk. It seemed that Kathy Hilton preferred to answer some of the more delicate questions about Paris on her daughter’s behalf. That’s why we have the security we have, because, you know, she’s an attractive girl being followed, being stalked, and I think when you’re attractive and people recognize you and your picture comes out here and there —it was the most frightening thing I’ve ever gone through. It was her senior year, yep, she graduated with homeschooling. We said, Oh, she went off there,’ and the truth is, we spent some time in London, at the London Hilton. “We were getting really weird things in the mail, things are being sent to the corporate office, things are being sent to our old address in Los Angeles.… We know exactly who, what, where, when.” Now suddenly, again, she’s talking about Leo. Paris was Paris Hilton, Nicky’s 19-year-old sister. “It’s all Dolce,” Nicky said, smiling, showing off the matching heels. “If I were their parents, I would kick their ahsses,” said an older Italian gentleman in Aristotle Onassis eyeglasses. Conrad was the son of a general-store owner from San Antonio, New Mexico. ” The two champagne-colored Pomeranians start barking in unison for no apparent reason. She has sleepy, unnaturally blue eyes, and looks as if she’d be hot to the touch. “He’s a nice guy, but as far as the story that I—” Kathy interrupts: “Did you see the story? “They live very colorful lives,” says Jason Binn, who, as publisher of Hamptons magazine, knows some of the social territory occupied by the Hilton sisters. ’” And then there’s the supposed rivalry with the Schnabel sisters—Stella, 17, and Lola, 19, daughters of the painter Julian Schnabel. “She and Nicky are like partners in bitch crime,” the friend continues. “No.” Next topic of conversation: Puffy’s legal troubles—the gun charges, bribery, assault. “It’s just so nice,” Kathy’s saying, “because the girls didn’t used to get along that well, and now they really love each other. She looks at me like I’m crazy, she gets embarrassed.” “You embarrass me,” says Nicky. ” Hand on hip, Nicky did a runway turn, like some schoolgirl in front of her bedroom mirror—except this was real. Nicky’s sidekick for the evening, heiress Casey Johnson—as in Johnson Johnson—stood nearby, managing to look like a character from Dynasty. Conrad Hilton, the Hilton girls’ great-grandfather, bought his first hotel in 1919, but the Hilton family seems forever plagued by a crisp taint of new money. (Later she’ll mention that there’s a security guard waiting to remove me if at any time that becomes necessary.) Paris Hilton alights on the porch. We had camera crews waiting downstairs”—at the Waldorf Towers, the Hiltons’ home in New York City—”because it said that he”—he is Leonardo Di Caprio—”would come up to the apartment and whatever. ’ And she said, (A) I have not been to New York in nine months, and (B) I have never had a fight with him, and (C) I have never been in a taxi with Leonardo Di Caprio! But what I’d really like people to know is that I’m working on fund-raising for breast cancer,” Paris continues softly, “‘cause my grandmother is sick.” “Well, then, speak up! The Hilton boys are in the living room blasting a CD. Perhaps that’s just the price of being blonde, beautiful, rich, and spirited. Grabs the key out of their hand, like: Tell them to send up room service right now! I thought I was gonna hate it here.” “I cried,” Nicky says gloomily. “Paris went to interview at Sacred Heart,” Kathy says, “and said, Mom, I’m not going to an all-girl school! It’s just been awful, it’s been awful.” She sounds very upset. We never let people know what we have had to spend on security on top of the wonderful security the Waldorf has … We go though a drill like you have no idea, because I am so scared.”At the Southampton house, on the porch in the sun, we’ve finished eating Key-lime pie. Kathy says, “You know, Nicky’s at this point in life where she’s embarrassed by everything. He flips off the end of the stage and lands in front of a lace-clad middle-aged woman.He lifts the woman, still seated in her chair, above his head. Mike lays the audience member on the stage and parts her thighs with his head.
At this time 10 years ago, Paris Hilton's simple life was about to get real complicated.