Confessions of an Heiress Read online

  I don’t ever go up to a guy I don’t know—EVER. They should come up to you. You can smile and look cute, but that’s all you should do. If you have to do more than that to attract a guy, you aren’t feeling like you look amazing. Go home and start over.

  Don’t send your friend up to a guy to bring him over. Then he knows he has you. Girls think that’s a subtle move, but it’s not. Guys want to be challenged, and they’re not as stupid as girls think they are. But they’re not as smart, either. An heiress always knows she’s the smartest person in the room—at least when it comes to guys. She hasn’t had much to do in life but study guys, so she has the inside track—and the best wardrobe. Not only that: If you don’t think guys, even rich ones, are attracted to money, you didn’t live through the ’90s. It’s a whole new world out there. Even guys with a ton of money want to be with women with money. It means they won’t have to fight so hard to get a prenup, and that their wedding—if they have one—will be in a good magazine. And their kids are sure to get into the best schools. (Not that I ever cared about that, but people seem to care more and more about that these days.)

  So it doesn’t hurt to act rich as well as hot. I’ve found it to be a fairly unbeatable combination. Who’s a guy going to go for: a girl who’s gorgeous, or a girl who’s gorgeous and rich? Borrow your friend’s G4—or G5, preferably—and show up in Cannes if he’s going to be there. Drop the names of famous hotels that are impossible to book. Read that American Express magazine a couple times, and you’ll pick it up. Have good luggage, or very worn crappy luggage: Heiresses could have either. Travel with the right crowd. There are tons of cute girls who started out just hanging with the jet set, which made everyone think they were rich.

  It’s all about being hard to get. No one would want caviar if it was cheap. People want what they can’t have. To attract the guy you want, dress cute but classy—as I have proved! (Okay, sassy works, too.) Hey, it’s okay to look really hot some of the time, but maybe not all the time. Be yourself, be funny, but never, if you like a guy, hit on his friend to make him jealous, or he’ll think you’re easy. There’s a big difference between “hot” and “easy.” It’s all about how you handle yourself. Be smart, be charming, make him feel important.

  * * *

  NEVER CALL A GUY FIRST. Wait till he calls you. Once he’s your boyfriend, then you can call him. If you annoy them and call them a lot, they’re gone. If you never call, they’ll start to want you more.

  * * *

  How? Look him in the eye when you’re talking to him. Act like he’s the only guy in the room. Never look away or past him. That’s the worst thing you can do, because then he’ll know you’re searching. Guys don’t like that. (I’m not saying don’t do it. I’m saying don’t get caught.) Compliment him on how he’s dressed, mention details like his beautiful eyes, show interest in his life and what he does, ask personal questions. And don’t introduce him to your cutest friends until you’re sure of him.

  On Guys and Your Girlfriends

  In most cases, be sure to tell your friends you like a guy before they try to date him. Friends who want what you have—those are the ones you don’t tell anything to. And you don’t always know they’re like that till they wake up one day and want something you have. If you’re an heiress, it’s inevitable. Always keep friends close and enemies closer. Girls can be scandalous when it comes to their friends’ boyfriends.

  On Getting a Guy to Be Your Boyfriend

  Hold out as long as you can. Don’t hook up with a guy for a while—until you know he really likes you a lot. If he calls you a lot, then you’ll start to know he cares. Try to be as honest as you can because you’ll always end up getting caught if you lie. They can tell when you’re lying. It’s been said that women have a sixth sense, but men have excellent intuition when it comes to girls lying to them. (I’ve learned my lesson the hard way on that one.) If they think you’ve lied, chances are they won’t trust you again.

  How To Know When a Guy’s Just After Your Money

  An heiress needs to pay attention to these things, since it’s inevitable. Does it really matter if a guy’s just after your money? Not really, as long as you never give it to him. If you do, he’ll probably start cheating on you, spending it on some other girl. All in all, you’re better off if the money is a secondary attraction.

  If he offers to pay for dinner in the early stages of dating, that’s a good sign. Especially in an expensive restaurant. If he talks too much about how you’re so rich, and brings up money all the time, I can tell he likes money more than he likes me. I think girls are gold diggers more often than guys though. I haven’t met too many guys who were out for my money. I think when it comes to girls, guys are motivated more by attraction than by money. At least at my age. And it helps if you like famous guys, because they usually have their own money. Who’s George Clooney dating now?

  When to Kick Him to the Curb

  A lot of girls are bad at dumping guys. I’m not one of them. Heiresses have to be brazen about these things. It’s a fact of life. If you’ve never dumped a guy, no guy is really going to respect you or be afraid of you. You need to let your boyfriend know that if he makes a wrong move, he’ll be tossed out in a heartbeat. It keeps him on his toes, and that’s exactly where you want him. At all times.

  What constitutes a wrong move? If he lies to you or cheats on you. No exceptions. I know everybody, so I can always find out what a guy’s up to. Everyone calls and tells me everything—guys wouldn’t risk lying to or cheating on me. Being so connected that no one can mess with you is a good heiress strategy. Somebody you know is going to know someone else—even in Europe or Japan—you can get info from. I make friends with my boyfriends’ bodyguards. I get their cellphone numbers. I have spies everywhere. Heiresses always have networks.

  And most important to remember: If a guy cheated with you on his girlfriend, he’ll do it to you too. If he won’t touch you till he breaks up with a girl he’s with but kind of over, that’s a good sign. A lot of my friends will keep a cheating guy around because they don’t want to be alone—don’t do that! You’ll always get your heart broken. A true heiress never gets her heart broken. She is the one breaking hearts. And it’s never a bad idea to have another guy waiting in the wings, just in case. Always have a list of good backup guys in your head, and when you spot one of them—even if you’re with your boyfriend—smile at him with the look of “Who knows? You could be next.” He’ll get it.

  Just don’t get caught. And if you do, deny it. Heiresses are very good liars when they have to be.

  Straightening Out Old Rumors

  If you believe the papers, I’ve been linked with everyone from Eddie Furlong to Nicolas Cage. Where do they come up with these things? There doesn’t seem to be a guy on earth—at least a famous guy—they think I haven’t dated. I was even accused of breaking up the marriage of movie producer Robert Evans. How ridiculous is that? When I heard that one, I had heard everything. Come on! I was twenty-two when his marriage broke up. He’s seventy-three!! He’s a little old for me! The rumors about me and Mark McGrath were complete lies, too. We were both laughing about that, wondering where it came from. Mark’s my friend.

  Contrary to everything you might think, I really prefer having one boyfriend. I’m friends with a lot of guys, but I don’t like dating unless I’m really into somebody.

  I tend to fall for guys who are cool. One thing that always attracts me: guys who sing. I think a guy who can sing is really sexy. Singing is the hardest thing to do because it’s so easy to get embarrassed—singing takes confidence. Plus, he can write songs about me. I admit I’m also attracted to pretty-boy male models. They’re not always so smart, but they are hot.

  Here’s something only an heiress would do: Once you break up with a guy, it’s a good idea to torture him—if you’re bored. Men have treated women badly throughout the ages; they never seem to take them seriously. So why shouldn’t we have a little fun at their expense? If you’re
really feeling your inner heiress, you will never let a guy get the best of you. And, God forbid, if you do, never show it. If you torture them, they’ll have a much worse time getting over you. And that’s what you want. An heiress has to be memorable.

  “When was the last time you saw me without a great-looking boyfriend?”

  You know those Glamour Don’ts? The things you shouldn’t wear because everyone everywhere is supposed to know they’re in bad taste? Well, I’ve worn a lot of them! With clothes, I’ve never really drawn the line between “good taste” and “bad taste.” I mean, where would all these pop stars be if they followed that advice? Or John Galliano, for that matter? Who’s to say what’s good taste or bad—some boring old socialites in New York? Why on earth would I want to listen to them? Do they have cute guys around them all the time, or do I?

  “Who’s to say what’s good taste or bad—some boring old socialites in New York?”

  THE DON’TS ACCORDING TO ME

  PLAYSTATION 2 PARTY

  Don’t ever pose like that! That pose has got to go! Don’t wear sunglasses at night. And forget black shoes with a white dress. I should have worn silver shoes. And those cuff bracelets—what was I thinking? I used to wear two at all times. I’m so over it.

  TOYS FOR TOTS PARTY

  I call this pose the “Y” pose, because of the shape my arms are making. I should call it the “Why?” pose, because it looks so dumb!

  SUNDANCE FILM FESTIVAL

  Okay, I’ve now learned the hard way not to use props in photos. I was attempting to do karaoke with a water bottle, and I don’t think it came off well. And I’m sure I never wore that Hugo Boss glow-in-the-dark parka again.

  SUNDANCE FILM FESTIVAL

  I packed for L.A. and didn’t realize I was going to Sundance. I look like Army Barbie in that Pucci dress—and the shoes are just awful. But I thought this looked cute at the time.

  I do love those jeans. That’s a top you can tie any which way. I thought it looked hot, but now I think it looks a bit like a rubber band.

  This was a fancy diamond dog collar—but now that I look at it, it looks more appropriate for whiplash than a party.

  Vegas Showgirl Barbie! But, hey, it was my birthday!!! Trust me—nobody ignored me that night!

  Okay, Deadhead Barbie. Or is it Hippie Granola Barbie? I look like an old lady! Did that dress belong to Jerry Garcia in another life? This is the worst outfit I’ve worn—EVER!

  I didn’t want to wear this hat, but I had to—it was for Philip Treacy’s party, and he’s a famous hat designer. I didn’t want to disappoint him. But I love Boy George; he’s wackier than me! And he dresses even more outrageously than I do.

  This is just pink overload! At least I match the backdrop! But I guess there is such a thing as being too tan.

  Okay, what a shirt not to wear! It was for the premiere of the movie Blow, and we just weren’t thinking people would automatically think that. It gives people the wrong idea.

  I was doing a photo shoot and went right to the Movieline Awards. I think everyone thought I was trying to be Pris from Blade Runner.

  It’s bad to mix two different camo-prints together. Plus I’m wearing a bikini top to a party at night! Oh, well. Won’t make that mistake again.

  I’m thinking I’m a Barbie in this picture. I did feel a little bit like a princess that night. But now that I look at it, I look more like Courtney Love Barbie!

  I like wearing push-up bras—it’s fun to pretend you have boobs once in a while. But the annoying part is that everyone wrote that I had my boobs done!

  Real girls are not afraid to be truly, over-the-top girlie. Some people think that’s saccharine and sickening. But I say there is no such thing as too girlie. I don’t care if you’re fifty years old, or twenty, or six. After all, heiresses are the girliest girls. They never really have to grow up like other people. There’s always a safety net. This allows you to feel warm and fuzzy no matter what happens. Here is my list of sappy, silly things every real girl should be able to do if she feels like it. And often.

  • Throw a fit, throw things, cry—loud. Have a meltdown whenever you feel like it. Whimper and whine on a whim.

  • Change your mood like you change your clothes. Or even more often.

  • Change your boyfriend as often as your mood.

  • Let your parents take care of you.

  • Wear pink and ballerina stuff to the point of overkill.

  • Keep stuffed animals all over your room, and carry them wherever.

  • Talk on the phone wherever and whenever you feel like it.

  • Cover your cell phone in rhinestones.

  • Keep a diary of everything a guy you like does.

  But what makes me feel the warmest and fuzziest is my family—and my dog, Tinkerbell. Let’s start with my human family.

  As I said earlier, it’s okay to make up your lineage—so many heiresses have—but you’ve got to keep the story straight. Luckily, I don’t have to do that. My lineage is real. Everyone knows the story of my family; it’s been written about so many times. Conrad Hilton was my great-grandfather, and he started this huge hotel empire. He was pretty famous for a lot of things, including being married to Zsa Zsa Gabor. My grandfather, named Conrad Hilton, was called Nicky and was the first of Elizabeth Taylor’s seven husbands. (Another good heir or heiress rule of thumb: If you have to be one of a group, it’s best to be first.)

  It’s traditional for an heiress to be raised in an insular way. No one thinks that’s true of me, but actually it was. When I was growing up, my parents were very strict, especially my mother. We were brought up to be very humble. The rumor is that I got a credit card at age nine, which is ridiculous. It was more like nineteen, and I had to get one myself without my parents. We had rules and regulations. Even when Nicky and I started going out as teenagers in New York, our parents kept a close eye on us. We had to check in with them like ten times a day. I had a curfew of midnight until I was seventeen. People think my parents let us do whatever we wanted, but that wasn’t true at all, trust me. I got punished as much as anyone.

  Mom and Dad

  My dad, Rick, was the support system in the house. He videotaped everything the kids did—my birth, my sister’s and brothers’, and all of my cousins’ births! He got us through every crisis. Even though I’m the oldest, I admit, I am still daddy’s little girl. This is exactly what an heiress is supposed to be. My dad, Rick, supports me in everything I do.

  My mom’s the best, and she’s been there for me through everything. I’m always proud to walk into a room with her. After all, doesn’t everyone say guys check out your mom to see how you’ll turn out? In my case, I’m very happy to show off my mom. She’s drop-dead gorgeous.

  What’s great is my parents are still really young and cool. And it’s cool they’re together, not divorced. They’ve been together since my mom was fifteen. She was nineteen when she had me, so she’s almost like an older sister. My dad is an animal lover, like me. He took me to exotic pet shows when I was a kid, and he bought me whatever animal I wanted. That led to my lifelong love of animals. My parents still have a ton of dogs and cats at their house in the Hamptons.

  Childhood Memories

  My family is pretty huge, and I’ve always loved that. My mom has two sisters, Kyle and Kim Richards (both actresses), who were really young when I was born. They both live in L.A. and are almost like older sisters. My dad has five brothers and two sisters. And they all have kids! On my mom’s side alone, I have ten cousins. They all grew up in L.A., so the holidays were really fun when we were kids. Christmas time was really wild in our house. I think my mom thought she was Mrs. Claus. She’d start decorating for Christmas right after Halloween. There was, like, a tree in every room. And when Santa came to our house, he was a Beverly Hills Santa, in a red Mercedes!

  Every Easter—even now—my parents would make the best Easter-egg hunt. There were eggs everywhere. A lot of the plastic eggs had money in them, so none o
f us would even bother to pick up the hard-boiled ones! What’s the point? The best part was that my parents would buy little yellow chicks, baby ducks, and bunnies for us. I’d keep the chicks till they turned into roosters—then they’d grow these gross red things on their heads and under their beaks, and they’d cock-a-doodle-do every morning at dawn. Our neighbors in Bel Air didn’t really appreciate that. So I would have to give them away.

  As kids, we would spend time at my grandfather Barron Hilton’s different houses. Sometimes, my family would take Nicky and me to the Duck Club in Northern California, where the men would hunt ducks. Nicky and I would collect frogs. I remember I had a pet ferret I named Farrah the Ferret, after my cousin Farrah Richards. We would also spend a lot of time at my grandfather’s Bel Air house, called Brooklawn.

  Tinkerbell