The Corsair first encountered Paz de la Huerta, briefly, at the Milk Gallery about a year and a half ago on a cold January night. What is one to say about Paz? She really is really, really committed to nudity. Fer realsies, readers: Paz takes naked to the n-th degree.
And that graphic and arty nudity -- as well as the artfully crafted tequila cocktails -- perfectly offset the arch chill of the night. Rarely does this blogger, your faithful correspondent, remember any photography exhibit longer than a few months after the closing. That exhibition of exhibitionism, however, will always hold a special place in our memory palace.
Flash forward to March 20. At The Standard Hotel, Paz, driven by luscious demons, attacked The Hills star Samantha Swetra. The particulars of that sanguinary event are at present being untangled in the courts right now. From the NYPost:
On the night of the fight, the apparently drunk de la Huerta was stumbling around the bar with her breasts popping out of her low-cut shirt, a witness told The Post (Corsair note: that sounds like Our Paz!).
Meanwhile, Swetra was hanging out in the bar nearby with Lindsay Lohan. Swetra said she'd never met de la Huerta before that night.
"She kept coming over and over. We were like, 'We don't want her here,' " Swetra told The Post yesterday.
"There was no words before she hit me. It was completely unexpected. I turned around -- it was like her on top of me."
Prosecutors said de la Huerta pummeled Swetra in the face with her fists, bloodying her nose and mouth.
Clearly Paz -- like Prince -- does not like reality TV stars. On the Great Chain of Celebrity Being, reality stars are, by and large, just barely a step above shock jocks. To wit: before the pummeling, Paz shouted: "I'm a real actress on HBO! She's a fake actress publicity- seeker!"
There have been other spectacular incidents over the years involving Paz. Paz read Madame Bovary in an event improbably sponsored by Playboy -- she was not wearing any underwear. As de la Huerta read from that great psychological masterpiece on the interior of the life of the modern of woman, Paz, after her own fashion, expressed her own interiority. Crossing and uncrossing her legs, Paz showed off to the assembled crowd a vast expanse of hindquarter.
And then there was the "walk of shame" after a night she, at 22, spent with Jack Nicholson, aged 66 (Pop quiz: How many times does 66 go into 22?).
Quod erat demonstrandum: Paz de la Huerta, postmodern spectacle par excellence.
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