So it’s 2004 and Paris Hilton is EVERYWHERE. After “someone else” leaked her sex tape with Rick Soloman (who was once married to Pamela Anderson, the queen of the celeb sex tape), Paris became famous for being famous. She and her BFF Nicole Richie starred in the reality show The Simple Life, and young girls everywhere started wanting ridiculously short skirts, super deep tans and for all of their brain cells to disappear.
But after Paris had a falling out with Nicole, she started bringing around her “new” BFF, Kim Kardashian. At the height of her fame, Paris started having legal troubles, mainly due to the fact that homegirl couldn’t “remember” that she didn’t have a license and kept driving anyway. After a short stint in jail and several other negative events, the public grew tired of Paris and her dumb blonde rich girl schtick. Coincidentally, Kim had a sex tape “leak without her permission” around the same time and she managed to start pulling the spotlight away from Paris.
At this point, the author goes HARD for both Paris and Kim’s claims that they had nothing to do with releasing their sex tapes. Halperin says he heard (second hand) from Janice Dickinson that Kris Jenner was the orchestrator behind Kim’s tape with Ray J. He even goes as far to go undercover with a model acquaintance of his and try to sell a fictional tape of her and “the most famous basketball star in the world,” whom everyone they approach assumes is LeBron James. Basically, he learns that it is nearly impossible to release a sex tape without the cooperation of all of the parties involved, due to invasion of privacy laws. I know you are all SHOCKED to learn that Kim and Paris were not, in fact, victims here.
One interesting tidbit that the model Halperin schemed with gave him is her impression that Kanye West only married Kim because of (not despite, as I assumed) her family. After his mother died in 2007, the model claimed that Kanye really craved a large family and in particular, really loves Kris Jenner.
ANYWAY, Kim got a master class in the world of celebrity as a “job” from Paris. After the Kardashians got their own reality show on the E! network, Kris Jenner set out to do what she does best: market the fuck out of her children and exploit their actions, no matter how distasteful. In one of the first episodes, Kris tries to convince Kim to pose for Playboy, even though she is very uncomfortable with how that continues to shape her image as a whore.
After the mind-boggling success of Keeping Up with the Kardashians, Kris really started to shine in the whole diabolical momager scene (even Dina Lohan was prolly like, whoa, take it down a notch). She helped create the spin-offs, like Kourtney and Khloe Take Miami and the like. Even with Kris’s uncanny ability to whore out every aspect of her children’s lives, there were some branding missteps early on: QuickTrim weight loss supplements (apparently they had enough caffeine to take down a small horse and no actual health benefits), the Kardashian Kard (remember that whole mess? they endorsed a bank card that had crazy annual and monthly fees) and other oopsies.
Now, no good reality show is complete without a love connection, and KUWTK was no exception. Kourtney was already dating Scott Disick when the show premiered, and he has turned into MY personal favorite. Even though he is often portrayed (rightfully so) as the resident bad guy (and holy fuck I would not want to have children with him), Scott seems to be the most in on the joke that is the Kardashian “reality.”
Of course, Halperin gleefully recounts Kim’s disastrous second marriage to NBA player Kris Humphries. Which, BARF, he was the ABSOLUTE worst. I would rather hang out with:
- Tyga at a middle school dance
- Rob, after you tell him the Combos are all gone
- Kris Jenner, after you tell her you had sex with a celeb but didn’t film it
- Kim’s much maligned BFF Jonathan Cheban*
*this pains me to say, as I hate Cheban with the passion of a thousand suns, but I fear it is nevertheless true
than have to spend ten seconds in the same room as Kris Humphries. I won’t recap their impressive 72 days of publicity-stunted bliss. Instead, I will let Scott Disick do that for me.
Next up, are the Kardashians overexposed? lolololololololollollolllllllllllll