Paris: A Memoir for Young Women in the Age of Influencers

by Paris Hilton

Fuck saves the day. So fuuuuuuuuuuck!

“Your greatest asset is your worst enemy,” said Dr. Hallowell. And my brain said, Fuck.

There are so many young women who need to hear this story. I don’t want them to learn from my mistakes; I want them to stop hating themselves for mistakes of their own. I want them to laugh and see that they do have a voice and their own brand of intelligence and, girl, fuck fitting in.

We got to the private airstrip in the wide, dry nothing somewhere outside the city. I was so dehydrated and wrung out, I couldn’t even comprehend all this information the guy was giving me. Something about “blah blah tandem instructor—blah blah jumping at thirteen thousand feet—blah blah freefalling for the first mile on the way down.” And I’m sitting there like What the fuck have I gotten myself into? And then they strapped the whole apparatus on me, and shit got real. I was 100 percent sober, and I was scared.

Sliving is a word I invented a few years ago at a Halloween party. I started to say “slaying” but took a sharp left toward “living your best life,” and “sliving” came out. We all died laughing, but I was thinking, That’s a great word. Ima trademark that shit like yesterday. I may have been slightly tipsy. But it is a great word! It’s a movement and a lifestyle.

“Listen, you ugly little pimple face, don’t fuck with my granddaughter. If you so much as speak to her again, I’ll come over there and destroy you.”