Back in April, I was in Vegas with my father, and as we left Tao after a really divine dinner (I recommend the duck egg rolls; they are crispy bliss) there were packs and packs of paparazzi photographers rabidly snapping pictures of Kim Kardashian – and, it seemed, only Kim Kardashian – on a makeshift red carpet. They went wild. My father's brow furrowed. "Who is that?" he asked, a confused grimace on his face. "Her name is Kim Kardashian," I said, as she preened.
"NEVER HEARD OF HER. Has she DONE anything?"
"Well... there's her dad and the O.J. thing, but otherwise... I think she... I have no idea."
"Hmmmmm," he intoned, looking bored and shooting a deeply unimpressed look at all the hoo-ha.
That pretty much sums it up for me. I seriously am not sure how Kim Kardashian came to be a celebrity. She showed up at parties somewhere in the vicinity of Paris, I think, and then sniffed around Nick Lachey back when he was America's Sad, Tenderhearted Bachelor Who Hankered For The Touch Of A Nice Woman. There was some lunacy with a photo in which it appeared she'd stuffed ostrich eggs into the seat of her pants. I'm not sure; I looked away. But basically, in the blink of a smoky eye, she was all over the scene, but still I have no idea what she actually does. Well, besides show up at stuff dressed in whatever is most likely to get her a free trip to Vegas under some poor hotel manager's delusions that she's a nightclub act. How that thing is managing to prop up her boobs while simultaneously looking about two inches from sliding off of them is a mystery that has me wondering if I really MIGHT have had a practical reason to take AP Physics.
Luckily, Kim isn't one to keep secrets.
Phew! I'm so relieved I don't have to go back in time and force 17-year old me to rethink my academic career. On a separate note, all this flash and cheap glitter and public boob-wrangling only enhances her more-than-passing resemblance to Nicole Scherzinger, a.k.a. The Only Pussycat Doll That Anyone Can Identify. When Nicole's inevitable solo album drops and we're asked to believe she's the next Fergie, maybe Kim can finally earn some real notoriety by serving as the lookalike replacement. Methinks she could hold her own in the litterbox.