Paris In The Spring

The king of pop’s daughter, Paris Jackson, is out to make her own mark

- Candace Bushnell

Paris Jackson is definitely starting something. Just a few days before this interview, she was causing a sensation in Paris—France, that is—during the couture shows. At the Givenchy show, she was proclaimed the house’s standout guest—the one person everyone else wanted to meet. Wearing an oversize sweater and black combat boots, and looking a tiny bit like she didn’t care, Paris was praised for her cool fashion sense and her laid-back attitude.

Then there was the shoot at the Eiffel Tower. Posing in a slightly see-through white shirt, her arms spread wide, and her red-lipsticked mouth smiling in a way that made you do a double or triple take— was that Marilyn? Madonna? Or Madonna doing Marilyn?—the photos had the Internet buzzing. There was speculation that fashion neophyte Paris had already landed a campaign for Chanel.

It was quite a launch for an in genue, and right before she left Paris, her manager, Tom Hamilton, took a photo of her on the airport train, which was quickly posted to her Instagram, looking like a happy teenage girl. She’s wearing her trademark garb—loose and hippie-ish and young—and clutching a jazz record album in her hand. Which makes sense: This teenage girl loves music from the ’70s, from the era of her boomer dad’s youth, when there were still vinyl records. But while Paris was at 38,000 feet, soaring above it all on a transatlantic flight, a media frenzy was breaking out below.

Still clutching that precious album—why else carry it all the way from Paris to LAX?—Paris and her manager got off the plane and headed, as they always do, to baggage claim. But this time it was different. This time they found themselves surrounded by dozens of paparazzi. Paris did what any sensible 18-year-old would do. She put the album over the side of her face like a mask. And she ran. And ran. And the paparazzi chased her. The paparazzi made her cry.