Paris Hilton premiered last month her documentary “This is Paris,” which sheds light on the Y2K It Girl’s life before her iconic Juicy Couture tracksuits and bedazzled phone covers.
As I journeyed through the highs and lows of her childhood, I couldn’t help but think of the significant role her New York City adolescence played in shaping her future.
“I dealt with a lot of bullying and the girls kind of ganging up on me and being mean to me,” Hilton said. “In New York, there’s the socialite scene. Everyone knew who I was.”
On screen, her yearbook photo flashed and I recognized it immediately. It was the same photo we gossiped about all throughout elementary and middle school. As kids, we’d pull it out of the archive of yearbooks in the back shelf of our school library.
Having attended the same Upper West Side prep school as Hilton, I can affirm that our school was often the butt of every joke in the NYC private-school world. Hilton, the wild party girl, reflected poorly on the classy socialites The Dwight School promised to produce. She was a stain on the school’s reputation.
After all, Hilton did everything she wasn’t supposed to do: constant clubbing and partying made her a gossip column sponge. In her documentary, we find out that behind the scenes, Hilton’s parents were pressuring her to portray a sophisticated, wealthy heiress — an image that felt inauthentic to her.
“My mom had us go to etiquette classes,” she said. “So we basically were taught how to be debutantes.”
When Hilton’s parents had had enough of the teenage rebellion, they sent her to Provo Canyon School in Utah — a residential treatment center — where she was repeatedly abused.
Because a portion of the documentary is spent exploring the trauma from Provo Canyon, I think it is important to go back and explore Hilton’s NYC experience as a case study for wealthy parents’ expectations of their children.
Hilton’s choice to follow the opposite path of her socialite destiny did not just challenge her parents — it challenged an entire system. The culture around wealth in NYC is one I’m all too familiar with, and the pressure to become a “Stepford wife” — as Hilton puts it — is a dangerous reality many children in the NYC private-school sphere face.
I learned the difference between a dinner spoon and a dessert spoon before I learned to tie my shoes. My first etiquette class was in an upscale restaurant in Midtown Manhattan. A group of ten 7-year-olds waddled to a dining table in collared shirts and ballet flats. We learned the importance of posture, how to fold our napkins and to never use our hands when we eat.
These were guidelines for the dinner parties we would eventually be hosting. Even now, my parents roll their eyes when they see me stuff fries into my mouth.
“Why did I spend all that money on those classes for you?” my dad still says.
Introducing this mindset is harmful for everyone. The time, money and energy parents spend drilling class and sophistication into their kids have consequences that go beyond the childhood trauma Hilton faced. It perpetuates a culture that promotes toxic class division.
We shouldn’t be prepping wealthy kids for a life of soirees and expensive wine tasting. For families that have the resources and influence to make meaningful social change, educating children to care about people outside of their social class should be a priority.
Though “This is Paris” is intended to provide insight on the abuse that occurs in teen correctional facilities such as Provo Canyon, the film also investigates NYC’s socialite culture. As a society, we should dive deeper into this problem.
As a whole new generation of wealthy children grow up, it is critical that we help them understand the role they can play in making the world a better place.
