Paris Hilton is hanging out with Hugh Hefner at the Playboy mansion. She is dressed up like a bunny (for Easter) and is seemingly desperately clinging to the last vestiges of her sex-symbol allure. I am so very sad about this.
Someone once told me (my Grandmother, my Grandmother told me this) that one of the most terrifying aspects of life is to look at your children and see that they are old. Not just that they’ve grown up. That they have wrinkles, and a receding hairline, and they are old. There are people we expect to grow older, and then there are people who are always preserved in our mind as young and fresh. Realizing that they are not young and fresh reminds us of the passage of time, and the fact that we will all, one day, die.
For all Hugh Hefner idolizes youth, I think he also has a special respect for this, the ephemeral nature of time. He is always especially nice to former sex symbols who have lost their looks. He was famously kind to Bettie Page when she was financially distressed in her later years, and I think when he put Lindsay Lohan in Playboy he was genuinely rooting for her. Now, well, now he is snuggling up to Paris Hilton.
When attractive women snuggle up to Hugh Hefner their time as a sex symbol is either just about to begin, or has just ended.
Paris Hilton’s time is over. We are aging. The world moves effortlessly on, and we are borne back into the past, to a time when we were astounded that anyone could think Walmart sold walls.
Picture via Paris Hilton Instagram