Paige Elliot for Rolling Stone
For the month of March, Paige Elliot was featured on the cover, where the main article was centered around her. The magazine, while released online today, officially hits stands on March 3, 2014.
Paige Elliot's penthouse in the Cosmopolitan Building in Bridgeport, SimNation is shocking, not for the fact of it's size, but how homely she keeps it. The building, which has random blocks of it that stop at different levels similar to the design of the Willis Tower in Chicago, Illinois, is tall and dark, with black metal lining each brown window. There are
plenty of gardening spaces in it, with flowers and even trees on the top of the various leveled roofs there are to the building. The top two floors, much smaller than the rest of the building, are where her penthouse is. The main lobby is almost antique looking, with caramel and brown marble all over the floors, and even the walls in places where the rich, dark wood isn't. There's a fountain, which she nonchalantly tosses a coin into before mumbling something to herself, which she later explained as a ritual that she does every time she arrives. Through the elevator, there's a small hallway, only around ten feet in length and a normal width, but there's only one door in it, obviously leading to her room. As soon as you enter, there's the dining room facing you, with a light wood table and black metal chairs. There are bookshelves almost everywhere, all stacked with random knick knacks, but of course, books. She grabs a copy of Vladimir Nabokov's
Lolita off of the dining table and moves quickly, bringing us over to the living room just around the corner, where there are turquoise and orange chairs and couches. They may seem like an odd color, but they're muted, fitting in with the deep browns that make up the rest of the apartment. A glance upwards shows a giant British flag hanging against the wall, on what would be the second floor, along with several paintings. Everything seems almost old, giving an antique feeling to it all, a shocking twist for the modern-loving woman, and a complete 180 to the modern mansion she owns back in the celebrity-populated area of the city, where everything is bright, cold and sharp. Personal artifacts are everywhere, including photos of her and her sister along with scraps of paper on random surfaces with song lyrics on them, along with a large collection of old vinyl records stacked on top of a record player near the retro TV set. Everything is perfectly clean, though; she has two maids clean it daily.
She sits on a couch, setting the novel down next to her, before sprawling over it and making herself relaxed, wearing a figure-hugging black dress, with lace lining the straps and the low neckline (designed by Victoria Beckham), along with bright white Louboutin heels, a white choker and a matching bracelet, and her hair is in its usual state of slightly-wavy grace. She almost hides behind a vase of sunflowers sitting on the boomerang-shaped coffee table.
"This is where I usually come to escape everything else," she says, lighting up a cigarette. "I feel most at home here, but I don't come here often for that exact reason. I learn to make myself slightly uncomfortable, because when you're most comfortable, you're at your most vulnerable." She's apologetically bitchy, acting like a diva one moment but then playing it out as if it's not her fault (Those familiar with Marina and the Diamonds' "Primadonna" would understand the attitude).
She gets up and moves over to the record player, putting on one of the many she has. She takes a minute and skips to a song. The GoGos, "Our Lips Are Sealed". Before she sits down, she squats down to the fireplace, starting the gas and using her cigarette to light it up.
Unlike her main mansion, the Cosmopolitan Building penthouse is strictly for living. In the basement of the other home, there's a full recording studio, with a $12,000 sound system just to listen to music (along with the kind she records), being one of the highest ever seen. But the main show of the studio is the synthesizer equipment, with no price tag that Paige revealed, which fills up a large amount of the room. Only a glimpse was caught originally on a brief stop into the building accompanied by a five-second tour, where Paige grabbed a specific Madlen dress, simple and black with golden spikes on the shoulders and a cutout on the chest, that she was supposed to wear tonight:
"There's just some party going on. Just me, a couple of my girls, some cocktails, cigarettes and probably some old rock music."
With a career like hers, the star would definitely be attending some parties, big and small. Having six Oscars and three Golden Globes under her belt, there's no denying she's a force to be reckoned with in the acting world. Her career began only 9 years ago, at the age of 15, though it really took off the next year, with her role in the film Sirens, which won her her first Oscar at the age of 17, making her the youngest person to win an Academy Award for Best Actress in a Leading Role. Her box office grossing numbers are nothing to laugh at, either, with Sirens grossing $400,000,000. However, her biggest-grossing film, also considered her biggest role to date, Tension, grossed $2,622,950,818, making it the fourth-highest grossing film of all time, including those adjusted for inflation. She started branching out into music later, buying and releasing the Icona Pop party anthem "Ready for the Weekend" as her lead single from the energetic, hyper-rave album 'Celebration', both of which went to #1 on their respective charts. Her second album, 'Heaven/Hell', which exploded with EDM and dubstep matched with emotional lyrics reflecting on the good and bad moments of her life, continued a streak of success, reaching #1 on the album charts yet again and its singles "Ecstasy" and "Made of Stone" both going to the top of their charts. Despite such elements in her music, Paige prefers quite different things to listen to, citing the Cure, Pink Floyd, Nine Inch Nails, Concrete Blonde and the GoGos as some of her favorite acts, though she combines them with Madonna, Infected Mushroom and Die Antwoord.
Though being at the young age of 24, she's already been married and divorced-- the divorce was highly publicized, and resulted in Paige winning a lawsuit over physical assault, mental abuse, mental trauma and duress, causing her now-ex-husband David, 33, to hand over several shared belongings, including a condo in California, a yacht in the Caribbean and more. The two met at Paige's university when Paige was 18, and continued a relationship through college. On her 22nd birthday, they were engaged, and then married on her 23rd. They divorced just a year and a half later after David decided he was leaving her, and a desperate Paige grabbed him, resulting in him kicking her in the chest and knocking her to the floor.
Nervous about the subject, Paige chain-smokes seven cigarettes over the course of ten minutes, violently jamming each butt onto a glass ashtray with blood veins carved into it. It's a miracle that her vocals in her music are still perfect after all this smoking, though she says she only does it when she's extremely nervous. She then walks behind the couch over to a bar near her desk, and pours a glass of scotch. She brings an extra glass and the bottle with her, offering me a drink, though I deny. She keeps the bottle with her anyway.
"I still think it's rather hard to believe," she says after downing the glass in two gulps. "It was really an awful period, even though it was short. I loved him, and having something you practically live for shatter like that is traumatizing." She pours another glass, but sips it this time. "Well, at least I can say I won the battle. Also helped with a lot of writing material for my second album, which I guess I'm sort of proud of."
She often has her younger sister, Angel, stay over with her. At the moment, Angel stays in a giant apartment in New York City, a $25,000-a-month penthouse that went unused by the sisters until she started staying in it. Their relationship has always been close, with Paige citing Angel as the most important person in her life, despite them having many times away from each other. Angel has cowritten songs with Paige, starting with 'Heaven/Hell', and then writing for numerous tracks on Paige's third album. Despite Paige's numerous attempts to bring Angel into the celebrity scene (including taking her to parties, and even dragging her to film auditions), Angel prefers to remain behind the scenes, watching her big sister from both a personal and a fan's point of view.
Paige then takes us upstairs, up a spiral staircase that has ancient metal designs over it, up to a rather small landing. There's a grand piano and a lamp, along with stacks of music on the floor, but nothing else. She sits at the piano, a cigarette still in hand, and plays a piece by memory-- a song titled "Bad Girl", defending reckless and provocative behavior (
"I do bad things / I'm not a bad girl"). She laughs, then continues into her bedroom.
It still has the homey-feel of the downstairs, but it seems much more clean. Big bed, everything seems neat and in order. The closet is more of an area, with a big wall behind the bed separating the two spaces, even though there are no doors to it. She flops down on the bed, resting cigarette on an ashtray on her nighttable.
"Sorry there really aren't any seats here," she says, looking more sorrow than ever. "There are some outside, but I don't think you'd want to do that." She laughs, then walks over to the sliding doors and opens them.
Outside, in the snow, she twirls a little bit on the balcony. She has a great view of the city, but right across the street is the famous nightclub, the Prosper Room, which sort of blocks some things. From the balcony, she can see right inside the club. It's closed at this early hour.
We head back in to continue, and then head back downstairs.
No person, actress or singer, let alone both, has had so much consecutive success in such a quick time and at such a young age. Despite some calling her a fad, the strip of 9 years of acting success declared otherwise, and her musical career is still relatively new. The same can't be said for many; with those that live in music, their attempts at acting fall flat, and vice versa. Paige proves she can finally make a proper balance between the two worlds.
"Just plain coffee, or do we want breakfast, too?" she asks, pulling out a short, white fur coat (Jason Wu). She grabs a small purse with it, puts the coat on and walks down to the front door, where she slides on some Gucci shades. "I have a different place for each... The breakfast place has good coffee, yeah, but it's... Not the same." Coffee.
We head out onto the street, and people seem to recognize her instantly, typical for a star of her size. She doesn't even bother to drive to the place, with it being just a few blocks away. Some people take pictures, one person blatantly recorded us walking by, and some asked for autographs. It's not every day you see a giant celebrity actually
walk from their apartment to a café.
At the place, a small but chic and classy coffee house filled with people and an actual line for those waiting to get in, Paige just walks by all of them, and most move right out of the way. "Welcome, Miss Elliot... We have your regular table ready, as always," says the host, and we move on to at able on the second floor, right next to a giant window that shows the rest of the city. Paige orders Vietnamese coffee. She stirs it briefly, and begins to drink.
"Yeah, I drink a lot," she mumbles, finally taking off her sunglasses. "So do a lot of people. Sorry about the whole scotch thing earlier. It's just weird when people talk about David."
Despite such a bitchy outward attitude, she's sweet and sensitive inside, something too cliché to even properly think about. She's quirky and funny, making jokes and doing weird little things throughout the day. Some might almost see it as childish, but Paige herself says being childish in personal moments makes up for having to act extremely mature at only 24, for public events.
After the coffee, we head over to a nearby park, where she takes off her coat, leaving it on a bench under a gazebo, then takes off her heels and walks on a snow-dusted railing of the gazebo as if it's a tight rope. She walks along the entire outside of the gazebo, lined by the railing, until she makes a circle. "I used to do this as a kid," she says, putting the Louboutins back on. "I don't know why I got the urge to do it again. I guess I'm just crazy."
We head back to the Cosmopolitan, where we go into the kitchen. The entire room is mostly wood, with avocado accents, including the fridge and the stove. "I hate them," she says, reaching into the freez+er and pulling out, surprise, a bottle of alcohol. This time, it's a bottle of champagne. "Mimosas?" Yes.
After getting the drinks, the phone rings upstairs. She ignores it at first, sitting down on the couch again, until the answering machine picks up, ringing throughout the house:
"Hey, Paige," says a rather familiar voice; it's none other than that of Justin Bieber. Paige stays calm; it's no secret that she's friends with the teen star. She'. "Eric and I finally got this one song done, it's called 'Favorite Kind of Trouble', and it's supposed to release just tomorrow. We were gonna tell you earlier, but we got things messed up... But anyway, we wanted to know if you perhaps wanted to record a v--"
Paige's eyes go wide, and she jumps up, almost spilling her drink. "JUSTIN!" she screams, running up to the bedroom to answer. She picks up the phone before his message finishes, and she talks for a minute. Some new verse for a song between Bieber and Eric Saade. After a minute on the phone, she runs back downstairs, grabbing her coat off and throwing the champagne flute into the sink (where it breaks).
"I'm so sorry, Jonah!" she cries, putting the coat on as she moves and grabbing her keys. She snatches her headphones off of the piano upstairs. "This is big, like, really big! I gotta go over to the other house and record, but maybe you can come again some other time!" She grabs my wrist and we fly out of the apartment.
In the elevator, she jumps up and down, extremely jittery over the recording session she's about to do. When we hit the bottom floor, she gives me a tight hug and a quick kiss on the cheek before she runs out to the garage. As I leave, I catch a quick glimpse of her Bentley driving madly down the street; she skips a stoplight and almost causes an accident before she drives over the famous Bridgeport bridge.
It's three weeks later that I see her again, this time at the mansion in the Bridgeport Hills. Shockingly, she's not alone, and it seems to be a star-studded mini party in her home recording studio in her basement. Justin Bieber and Eric Saade, her collaborators, along
with her good friend Taylor Swift. The four are hanging out in the mixing portion of the studio, where black velvet lines the walls and there are several leather couches, with the song "Favorite Kind of Trouble", by Bieber, Paige and Saade, playing. Paige is wearing a magenta PVC tube top, matched with a black skirt and a thick black belt, along with killer heels to match her top. A small, black scarf is on her neck, delicately wrapped. She sits on a swivel chair, facing the rest of us. Swift's in a figure-hugging white dress, along with white wedges and a denim jacket. Bieber wears a white tank top, along with a destroyed leather jacket that hugs his small but wiry build. Saade looks as if he's ready for a formal dinner, dressed in a black suit and tie.
The only one out of place is Swift, having nothing to do with the recording session. Though, Paige makes it very clear she's is needed for the presence, calling Swift "one of [her] best friends". The two hug tightly just afterwards.
After listening to "Favorite Kind of Trouble" three times, where all three singers are featured, Paige runs over to the studio. "Justin, mix me. I'm gonna record the bits on the last chorus again. Eric, back me up."
Saade joins her in the glass room, and Bieber sits at the giant mixer, and after a few button presses and knob turning, Paige begins to sing, her voice in a register slightly higher than usual. Saade backs her up, both singing the same lyrics in harmony. Each break out into different ad-libs after a bit, and end it on a harmonious note with the world "trouble". Paige looks up at Bieber, and he nods, giving a thumbs up. The two return to the studio, and Swift claps for them, giving each of them a hug.
"It's definitely gonna smash," Swift says, sitting back down and writing in a journal. "With all three of you on it, it's gonna do great. I can't wait to see how the public takes it."
"Of course," Paige says, taking off her scarf and throwing it on one of the couches. "It's got 'hit' written all over it."
"So do you after David," Saade says with a smirk. He looks up at Paige, who looks extremely unamused. She points her and at the door. "Get out, Eric," she says with no joking or emotion at all in her voice. "Just... out."
Bieber and Swift look around wide-eyed. Saade gets up and leaves, not having anything to take with him. After he leaves, Paige collapses on the couch, kicking her feet up on a coffee table.
"But yes," she continues. "It'll probably top the charts. I'm excited for this one. It sounds great, it'll do great."
The song's just another thing to add to the list of her accomplishments, once it does release. Whatever Paige does seems to skyrocket, and everything she touches turns to gold. Whatever good luck and talent she has, she better keep using it for years to come.
The issue is now available for purchasing online, and will be available for physical purchase at stands in the morning. Check rollingstone.com to keep up on all the info.