Paris Hilton really, really wanted a daughter. She wanted a daughter so badly that five weeks before her son, Phoenix, was born via surrogate this past January, Hilton and her husband, venture capitalist Carter Reum, were already trying for another surrogate pregnancy: undergoing a fresh round of in vitro fertilization, injecting Hilton’s belly with hormones and, through her whimpers of pain, pleading for a girl. On the morning of Hilton’s egg retrieval, she dressed to manifest the sex of her next baby: hot pink terry cloth tracksuit, blush pink bucket hat, and a Barbie-pink quilted Chanel purse.

About a year later, when I meet her at 30 Rockefeller Plaza in New York, in the middle of a 24-hour press blitz for the second season of her Peacock reality show, Paris in Love, Hilton is beaming. Days earlier, only 10 months after welcoming Phoenix, she finally got her girl, London Marilyn Hilton Reum. Like her mother, London is named for an iconic European metropolis; Marilyn is an homage to Hilton’s late paternal grandmother. Hilton’s house is already festooned with pink Christmas trees, and she is “over the moon.”

“I always imagined my mini-me, putting her in little dresses and all the mommy-and-me things we could do together,” says Hilton, drinking a venti chai with coconut milk through an on-brand pink straw. “Just having my little best friend.” She’s wearing a red Rebecca Vallance cocktail dress bedazzled with crystal bows, nude fishnets, and silver heels. Her face is still glazed with TV-ready bronzer, after a morning filming back-to-back segments with Hoda & Jenna, Kelly & Mark, and Kelly Clarkson. “I miss her so much,” she says of London, who is home in L.A. Along with Reum, Hilton’s entourage fills a conference room: publicists, photographers, videographers. Her whole life is content, as Hilton probably knows better than anyone. She speaks, at first, in her patented baby-soft voice, which in person is as soothing as ASMR. “I’m in my Mom Era,” Hilton says. “This is my best era yet.”

To go from zero to two babies in the same calendar year would boggle most parental minds, but Hilton projects total serenity. The former host of Ibiza’s Foam & Diamonds party has been blessed with quiet nights. “They are such good babies. They’re on an amazing sleep schedule, eating schedule, so they don’t cry. They’re so happy,” Hilton says. She is transparent about child care, featuring her hard-working “baby nanny” on the new season of Paris in Love (now streaming). “I feel so lucky because all my other friends who have kids are like, ‘I’m up all night. They’re crying all night.’ My babies, they’re just so calm, so chill.”

For all the versions of Paris that have played out in her two decades of fame — party girl, The Simple Life starlet, tabloid punching bag, and now entrepreneur and New York Times-bestselling author of Paris: The Memoir — Hilton, 42, has longed for motherhood for some time. She’s had baby clothes in storage for years. Before reconnecting with Reum (whom she’s known since her 20s) four Thanksgivings ago at his sister’s house, she froze her eggs and was considering single motherhood. Burned by past relationships and engagements, Hilton remembers thinking, “I’d rather just have my own children by myself.”

Before Reum, “I was always searching,” Hilton tells me. “Even if I was in a relationship, I was always looking for something else.” Now, with a loving and supportive partner, plus their two babies, Hilton says she has found a sense of peace — her own version of the simple life.

“I feel like my life is finally complete,” she says. “We’re the cutesy crew.” That alliterative catchphrase dates back to her 2021 wedding at the former Bel-Air estate of her grandfather, Conrad Hilton, where Reum vowed, “I can’t wait for forever with our cutesy crew.” Phoenix and London join the crew’s teacup canine members, including Ether, Crypto, Prince Tokyo Gizmo Hilton, and Slivington — a riff on “sliving,” Hilton’s go-to portmanteau of “slaying” and “living.”

Hilton “is such a doting mother,” says her younger sister, Nicholai “Nicky” Rothschild, a mom of three herself. “I always joke: If her dogs are any indication about what kind of mother she’ll be, it’s going to be pretty fabulous.”

Although the timing of Hilton’s growing family may seem like a chaotic coincidence, she is grateful it happened as it did. “We wanted them to be close in age so they could grow up together,” she says. And she’s glad Phoenix arrived first. (Hilton has no particular emotional attachment to the city of Phoenix, Arizona, but she liked the idea of referencing River Phoenix and the symbolism of a “magical, rising phoenix.”)

“He’s going to be the protective big brother,” she predicts, sharing that Phoenix is already gently petting London’s head. The high chirp of Hilton’s voice falls ever so slightly as she shifts the conversation from bubbly “It’s a girl!” chat to the difficult and traumatic past she has begun to share with the world. “I wish I had a big brother growing up,” Hilton says. “So many bad things that happened wouldn’t have happened if I had a big brother at school to watch and protect me.”

Full interview: romper.com

It is now a fact that is, if not widely acknowledged, at least hard to dispute: Paris Hilton is an astute businesswoman. She has her own agency, a music career, a podcast, and recently walked the runways in Paris Fashion Week. While Hilton has evolved from the ditzy Simple Life character of the early aughts, her image is still greatly tied to the era that saw her meteoric rise into the public eye. Case in point: a “That’s Hot” mug and mug warmer in her new Be an Icon collection, available later this month at Walmart.

The line, a collaboration between Hilton and housewares company Epoca, offers a wide variety of pink-on-pink cookware, serving-ware, and gadgets, all very on-trend at the moment. “I invented Barbie core,” Hilton laughs. (More muted colors like eggshell are available as well.) But ever the evangelist, Hilton urges folks to give her signature shade a try. “My advice is if someone doesn’t have pink in their kitchen, they should, because it just will brighten up their day.”

The line might seem like a surprise to some, but after Hilton’s delightful Netflix show Cooking with Paris, where she shared both her triumphs and pitfalls in the kitchen, she proved herself to be a charming homemaker. The mother to son Phoenix, eight months, (with husband Carter Reum), sees it all as part of her throughline. “I love that character; it is just something that will always be a part of me since The Simple Life, and I just feel like it’s the more fun side of me, because I obviously have my serious side with my business, but I’m also a kid at heart and I’m very girly, and I like to be silly. But it was definitely an inspiration for this line.”

Never one to rest on her laurels, Hilton is looking forward to the next phase of the line. “I’m excited to get more into homeware and into furniture and into doing different baby products,” Hilton shares. “I feel like the sky is really the limit, and I’m just excited to add more things to my ever-expanding brand.”

What city do you live in?
Beverly Hills.

Describe the style of your home in one sentence.
On brand—when you walk in, you immediately know it’s my house just because it’s just so fun and eclectic and unique, it’s like walking into this magical world.

What is one kitchen item you use every single day?
From my new cookware collection, and it’s my coffee mug that says be an icon.

What is your favorite gadget or appliance?
My new beauty fridge from my line, and I love that it has a cool setting and also a warm setting. I have two of them, and I keep one in my bedroom next to my bed on cold, and it has my eye masks and face mask. And then I have another one that I put in my spa area so that I have warm towels ready to go.

What is your bedtime ritual?
My bedtime ritual is I have this machine called a Ballancer Pro, which is an electric lymphatic machine, which I’m obsessed with. And I do that as well as listen to this thing called Sleep Fan, which is an app that has white noise that helps me relax. I have all my little skin care gadgets and kind of just lay in bed with a face mask, and then I’ll put on an LED light and then my eye masks and just kind of chill and do some self-care.

What is your ideal bedding setup?
Lots of pillows, probably 10 pillows on the bed. Lots of blankets, I love a duvet. And then on top I have a very fluffy blanket and my other little blanky that I love. So I have just lots of blankets and pillows, sleep masks, silicone earplugs, a Hatch that has music that plays as well, and a humidifier and fans and I like to have it to around 65 degrees. So very cold and cozy.

Which room in your house is your favorite and why?
My sliving [Hilton’s portmanteau for “slaying” and “living”] spa, because I’m obsessed with wellness and anything that has to do with antiaging. And I have a four-person hyperbaric chamber, a huge cryotherapy machine, HydraFacial machines, and this huge Omnilux laser machine. Literally, when you walk in you feel like you’re walking into a real spa that has all the medical grade equipment and the LED sauna, my Sunlighten, which I’m obsessed with. I have a huge four-person one, and I go in there and spend hours doing business calls or other tasks.

Describe one item in your home that you brought back from a trip.
I just got this really amazing mirror in New York and it’s really big and kind of wavy and it has these neon lights that light up. So it‘s the perfect selfie mirror to take cute pictures of my outfits.

What object in your house has extra sentimental value?
One of my favorite things is right when you walk into the entrance way, I have this giant toy llama that Kim, Kourtney, and Khloé Kardashian sent for Phoenix [Hilton’s son] when he was born. He loves animals, and he loves his puppies, and he loves the llama. Every time we walk by it, he wants to go pet it. It’s just so adorable and puts a smile on my face every time I walk in because I’m obsessed with llamas, and it just looks so cute, and everybody who walks in is like, “Oh, my God.” They assume it’s a real llama because it looks so realistic.

What is the oldest thing in your house?
My mom bought me this beautiful antique boudoir, and I have all 29 fragrances from my line, so I have all of those displayed in there with all my favorite perfumes, and it’s just so beautiful. It reminds me of when I was little. I would always go into my mom’s boudoir with my sister, and we would try on all her perfumes. I had a dream one day of having my own perfume.

What is the newest thing in your house?
Newest thing is a cool neon sign. I’m building a gaming area because I just released my new Roblox world called Sliving Land. So I had this custom neon sign made by Yellow Pop. It’s this really cool neon pink, and it has the Sliving Land logo, and I’m just picking out all the other things for my gamer-girl area.

Do you have a room or area that serves an unusual purpose?
I turned one of my living rooms into a room where I have a lot of meetings. I do all my fittings, my business deals, and I’ve also built a full-on photo studio there because I’m trying to do as much as possible from home so I can be with my baby. So instead of going to a studio, we just have it at the house and build a podcast studio and a recording studio so I can do my podcast, my new album, and my photo shoots as much as possible so I can just be with my baby as much as I can.

What would you change about your home if you could choose only one thing?
I wouldn’t change anything. I just feel so happy. We moved in last year, and I’ve just made it so much fun, and it makes me smile every day.

Source: architecturaldigest.com

All of the things that every teenage girl would go through: going to school, going to the prom, going to college, I missed out on so much of that,” Paris Hilton tells me. It would be natural to assume this was just the opportunity cost of her fame; the Shirley Temple of partying, she’s been red-carpeting so long that even if she’s younger than you – she’s 42 – it probably feels as if she’s lived longer. Of course she didn’t go to college: those sequins weren’t going to wear themselves to Coachella.

In the beginning, Paris Hilton was famous because her parents were, and they were famous because of her great-grandfather, hotel tycoon Conrad Hilton, and the whole family was famous because of its wealth. As she moved into her late teens, she became a name in her own right: a model and It girl, the “OG influencer”, as she describes it – the first person on record to seek and attain payment for turning up at parties. This, at the time, seemed to seal her in the public imagination as a bauble, one of life’s fripperies. Certainly, we didn’t spend a lot of time pondering that it takes quite a lot of entrepreneurial moxie to recognise the value of your stardust and monetise it, especially when you’re already minted.

Hilton’s gear change to global fame came in 2004, when a former boyfriend, Rick Salomon, released a sex tape filmed the year before that rapidly caught fire online. At this point, Hilton was already becoming known for the reality show The Simple Life, which she did with Nicole Richie: two fabulous, pampered socialites, slumming it in minimum-wage jobs, living with a regular family in Arkansas. It was strangely compelling and memorable: I can still get a pin-sharp visual on Hilton and Richie trying to make onion rings in a fast-food restaurant.

That show seemed to fix her reputation as the punchline of a joke she’d actually authored. The Simple Life marked the dawn of the age of a certain type of structured reality TV; the next nearest thing was Laguna Beach, which didn’t air until the following year. Hilton, obviously along with numerous TV execs, created what would become an endlessly replenishing genre, and yet managed to emerge from it the ditzy, clueless little rich girl.

With sidelines in perfume, boutiques, beach clubs and other product lines, she started DJing in the 2010s and, unarguably, by then had created more wealth and notoriety than had ever been bestowed on her by the accident of birth. Granted, none of this would have shaken out the same way without the privileged start, but she’s no Donald Trump character, sitting on piles of inherited gold and claiming to have made it. The late Barron Hilton probably put it most pithily when he said that he used to be known as Conrad Hilton’s son, until he was known as Paris Hilton’s grandfather.

But none of that is why she missed out on her teenage years, has no education to speak of, and spent years battling “so much trauma that I didn’t want to think”. She was “going out, travelling, doing all these things just to not have to think about what I had been through”. It sounds so improbable, impossible even, for anything that bad to have happened in a family so scrutinised, but her teenage years were horrific.

She’s speaking to me over Zoom from Los Angeles, and we’re talking about Paris: The Memoir – she looks on the screen much as she does on its cover: blond, glossy, flawless, features so strong and symmetrical that it makes her seem self-possessed and a bit remote, irrespective of what she’s actually saying. Her friend Kim Kardashian once said, while they were making frittata and french toast coated with Frosted Flakes, “I don’t know anyone who parties as hard as you do and looks as good as you do”, and that’s as true now as it was any other year.

In a story probably familiar to anyone with ADHD who grew up before it was common to get a diagnosis, Paris Hilton struggled at school, and the upsides of attention deficit disorder – “We’re so creative, we’re constantly thinking, our minds move as fast as a race car” – went unrecognised. “My childhood would have been very different if I’d been diagnosed: I definitely wouldn’t have been sent away,” she says. When she was 14, she was groomed by a teacher at her school, and her parents came home to find her in a car on the drive, kissing a grown man. They were about to move from Bel Air to the Waldorf Astoria anyway, and “they were worried”, she says, “to have a young girl in New York City at that point, and thought I would be safer with my grandma. But they had no idea it was a teacher.” So the Hiltons, having asked no questions about the incident, sent their oldest daughter to live in Palm Springs and moved with their other three children, Nicky, Barron II and Conrad.

Full interview: theguardian.com

THE CERULEAN SKY over Beverly Hills is silvering its way toward nightfall when I find myself trapped at Paris Hilton’s. The photographer and crew have packed up and left with their sundry equipment. The stylists have packed up and left with countless lumpy bags and a large box they’d struggled to fit in their car. The landscapers have packed up and left in a white truck laden with an alarming amount of foliage. Even the helicopters overhead have stopped their mosquito whine. A hush has fallen over Hilton’s stately driveway (where her pink Bentley sits with a flat tire) and over her Italianate mansion (where a neon-pink glow emanates from one entire wing). And here I am, shaking the curlicues of an elaborate wrought-iron gate that had been wide open earlier and wondering how the hell to get out of this gilded paradise.

It is, admittedly, not a bad place to be stuck, I think to myself as I wander the grounds looking for an alternate means of egress. There are palm trees of biblical proportions and a multitiered fountain. There are potted plants and cherubic statues. There is an entrance as imposing as the Vatican’s, save for a neon-rainbow welcome mat and a grand, columned foyer in which stands a life-size, stuffed alpaca (a gift from the Kardashians, as it turns out). Down a soaring hallway, there is a well-appointed family room of sorts, if family rooms typically boasted neon signs of the Chanel logo and studded Versace pillows and a smudge stick resting on an ashtray emblazoned with the words “You’re Fucking Awesome.” And in that very room, just moments ago, there was Hilton herself, nestled into a corner of the creamy couch, cozy in a hot-pink tracksuit and rainbow socks, and talking about her newish husband and her new baby and her even newer book, Paris: The Memoir, which, she later tells me, she wrote because she “suppressed so much” and found that “opening up was just so healing.” And because she knows what you might think when you hear the words “Paris Hilton,” and, truth be told, she was “so over that narrative.”

Plus, the narrative doesn’t even track. Now she’s a wife. Now she’s a mom. Now, on this day in late February, she has a one-month-old baby boy, Phoenix Barron Hilton-Reum, who is not just named for a city, like his mother, but also for a mythical creature that rises from the ashes. Now, she and her husband, venture capitalist Carter Reum, have successfully pulled off one of the most impressive moves in the history of celebrity by keeping their baby’s entire existence a secret until a full week after he was born. The Hiltons didn’t even know. The Reums didn’t even know. The only people who knew were the medical team and the surrogate, who watched episodes of The Simple Life while pregnant so that the fetus would get used to the sound of his mother’s voice. Hilton had thrown on a brunette wig when they got the news that Phoenix was arriving a week and a half early, and the couple rushed to Cedars-Sinai hospital, where they cried as they witnessed their baby being born. He’d been so healthy, they’d taken him home that very night, dispensing with staff (save for a baby nurse) and hunkering down in their mansion in awe at what they’d accomplished. “It was just like, ‘Oh, my God, I’m a mom,’” says Hilton. “My life has just been so public, my whole life has been, just, invaded; I felt like, for my baby, I just wanted him to come into the world and just be here and not have all this weird…” she trails off, not even sure how to articulate what “this” is, or the extent of its weirdness.

Then the moment gets meta: One of the most photographed women in the world — who in fact had just come from a photo shoot that was itself documented by a film crew for the second season of her reality show Paris in Love — begins scrolling through her phone for a picture of her own literal creation. She lands on the image, holding out the device to proudly show the tiny little features of a tiny little human under a tiny little hat. “This is when he was three hours old,” she says. “He was so freaking cute. He came out camera-ready.” She says this and then laughs at the ridiculousness of the statement, the Paris Hilton–ness of it. But then also: Look at him. He really did!

Reum, a boyish and buoyant Midwesterner in navy sweats, lopes into the room to check on his wife. “Oh, you got the preview!” he says to me excitedly when he sees the picture of Phoenix. Hardly anyone has yet seen the actual baby, though a few days ago at Hilton’s birthday party — a small gathering that included Sia, Rebel Wilson, and Hilton’s sister, Nicky — some friends had crept upstairs to take a peek.

Full interview: rollingstone.com