In what seems to be a continued accent on the power shift between Kim Kardashian and Paris Hilton, their respective appearances at Milan Fashion Week couldn’t have highlighted the clout divide more. Although both occasional “besties” walked the runway for reputable Italian designers—Kim for Dolce and Gabbana; Paris for Versace—it was the former closet organizer who appeared to want to dance circles around Paris in terms of serving “glamor.” For, as Kim appeared in black-and-white videos meant to continue her trend of “paying homage” to Old Hollywood (in Italy’s case, that would be 1960s-era Cinecittà), Paris showed up to the runway looking like she was supposed to be wearing a getup for a bachelorette party (or a botched audition for Greta Gerwig’s Barbie, a film Paris has effectively been auditioning for her entire adult life).
Meanwhile, the entire runway show Dolce & Gabbana put on was centered around Kim—or, more specifically, a video screen of her stuffing her undeserving maw with pasta. Because every dumb bitch thinks they’re fucking Sophia Loren when they sit in front of a red-and-white checkered tablecloth and “sensually” place of forkful of spaghetti in their mouth. Kim goes for the same effect as a barrage of models take the stage to quintessential techno beats meant to emphasize that this is high fashion. Or, what Domenico and Stefano would like to presently bill as, “Confidence, independence and sensuality,” adding, “Kim Kardashian is the contemporary diva whose inclusive vision of beauty inspired Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana to create the #DGSS23 Women’s Collection, curated by Kim in person.”
Of course, the first time we see her “in person” isn’t until the very end of the spectacle, when she deigns to drag her “fuckin’ ass” out onto the runway, lumbering in a sequin gown that looks, to be honest, like Adrianna Papell could have probably designed it as well. Before that point, a model sports a t-shirt featuring one of the stills of Kim eating pasta from the very video the audience sees throughout the show—because everything has to be meta and self-aware just so that we can all console ourselves that knowing we’re in the matrix makes it better than pretending not to. With another final “mini video” of Kim mugging for the camera like it’s a 90s photoshoot for a fashion magazine, the conclusion of the show then calls for the appearance of Stefano and Domenico to join Kim onstage for a few quick waves at the nominal fashion cunts. These days, that would even include Paris, who has never been a “style icon,” so much as a product of her heyday in the 00s. A heyday she has cashed in on time and time again in every way, most especially with fashion.
Appearing toward the end of Versace’s SS23 show, Paris looked as though she stepped right out of 2003, bearing the same level of confidence she exuded during The Simple Life era. In fact, her aura of self-assurance was far more marked than Kim’s during the D&G display. Perhaps because even Kim has a touch of imposter syndrome when it comes to being aware, somewhere deep down, that she’s fooling no one. That all the labels and the jewels and the plastic surgery can’t disguise that she’s still, beneath it all, a social climber rather than a socialite (something Ye would gladly attest to). Therein lies the difference between Kim and Paris’ radiating auras. For, theoretically, Paris should be the one to show up on the runway looking shy and uncertain. After all, her “relevancy” has, of late, essentially been piggybacking off Britney Spears and the 00s revival in general. She probably got this Versace gig solely for being a guest at Spears’ wedding and getting a chance to remind fellow attendee Donatella who she was. Donatella, realizing her “new” line was 00s-themed anyway, figured, “Eh, why not?” Nicole Richie wasn’t available.
Paris, who has never really evolved with the times, thusly revealed that her long-standing love and embodiment of the Barbiecore aesthetic was bound to come back in style sooner or later (even if it was released stills from Barbie that prompted it, not Paris). And “Mrs. Reum” was only too ready to showcase hot pink pumps, a sequined (fine, metal mesh) pink halter dress, pink fingerless gloves and a matching veil. Again, she looked ready to hit the town for a bachelorette party… in Vegas. While, somewhere else in Milan, Kim was doing her best to prove, without the help of Marilyn’s now-ruined gown, how glamorous she is by being as staid and non-over-the-top as possible.
As someone who used to promote everything when she was “nobody” (from QuickTrim diet pills to Charmin public restrooms), Kim has evidently learned that you can say more with less (or, by promoting more high-end products). Paris, on the other hand, continues to be as flamboyant as she was in the 00s, despite her self-titled 2020 documentary insisting she’s not the baby-voiced character she created decades ago. Yet she seems to have put far less effort than Kim into carrying out her long-standing shtick, wherein simply “showing up” is enough.
In Kim’s case, she had to put in greater amounts of “elbow grease” to be part of Milan Fashion Week, rolling her sleeves up high enough to regenerate eighty-five pieces from the D&G collection, ranging from the years 1987 to 2007 (better known to Kim and her legion of acolytes as the year Keeping Up With the Kardashians first aired, and the end of Paris’ reality star reign began). The purpose of her selections? To inspire self-hating gay men Domenico and Stefano to “reinterpret” the looks for this year’s runway. Better known as: they were too fucking lazy to come up with something new. Same as Paris.
But one thing that Fashion, Kim and Paris are all cognizant of is that a gimmick is always required to get the public to notice. Sort of like the one Beate Karlsson used for her own runway show at Milan Fashion Week to support the new line from AVAVAV. Commenting of her choice to have the models fall as they sauntered down the catwalk, Karlsson stated, “In many ways, this collection and the runway show is a parody of fashion, of how we dress to mediate status through wealth.” Ironically (or is it, once more, “meta-ly”), that is precisely what both Paris and Kim have continued to do throughout their “careers,” with the latter filching the method from her erstwhile mentor-turned-caricature of herself for an effect that makes it clear the student has surpassed the teacher. If “surpassing” someone else with the advantage of being born rich is really a thing.
