They don’t make heiresses like they used to. In Gloria Vanderbilt’s “It Seemed Important at the Time,” there are lessons of love, life, joy, and sadness. In Paris Hilton’s “Confessions of an Heiress,” there are only moments of cringe-inducing postmodernism.

Ms. Hilton’s book is a self-conscious celebration of the self. The book is packed – packed with photos – and contains advice on how girls everywhere can get in touch with their inner heiress. Chief among that advice is: “Be born into the right family.” (Har har)

As for the confessions, they’re rather tame. She doesn’t actually booze it up all that much; she prefers energy drinks and Vitamin Water. She deliberately worked on the pose that she hits when having her photo taken – and advises that all girls study their best angle. She has size 11 feet.

When it comes to men, she’s surprisingly old school. “Never be too easy. If you’re too easy, a guy knows he has you.” She prescribes holding out, never calling men, dumping your lying, cheating boyfriend promptly. “It’s all about being hard to get,” she writes – Which must come as news to the naughty bloke who videotaped himself engaging in a wild romp with her.

But really the book is not about giving advice or teaching anyone how to be more fabulous. It’s about the photos. Page after page of photos far exceeded those dedicated to text. What the photos don’t tell is how, exactly, she has become such an icon. As she points out, there are plenty of heiresses who don’t live in the spotlight. What made her a star?

One gets the sense she isn’t even quite sure how she stumbled upon her celebrity status. She just woke up, found herself chauffeured to birthday parties as a child (there’s a photo of that), and has been appearing at red carpet events with cameras flashing in her face ever since. Pardon me if I don’t think that’s the whole story.

The one similarity between Ms. Hilton and her predecessor, Ms. Vanderbilt, is that both discuss their “work.” This does not include sitting at an office every day. In Ms. Hilton’s case, it means modeling and acting. For Ms. Vanderbilt, it meant acting, painting, and developing a clothing line. Modeling seemed to be something she was simply asked to do as a socialite, rather than a vocation to be pursued.

Perhaps that’s why Ms. Vanderbilt’s book contains considerably fewer photos? No, the reason is that Ms. Vanderbilt’s book is about the other people – men – in her life. She had (and has) a real emotional life, which she shares in this slim volume. Who didn’t she have an affair with? Her husbands include Leopold Stokowski, Sidney Lumet, and Wyatt Cooper. Her lovers include Frank Sinatra, Marlon Brando, and Roald Dahl.

What makes this memoir readable is the acknowledgement of pain. It hurts when guys don’t call when they should. And Marlon Brando didn’t call after they had a rendezvous in Los Angeles. “Back in New York, I not only didn’t see him, I didn’t hear from him, and I plunged into despair, which I shared with Russell [Hurd, a friend] at the studio,” she writes. “We spent hours playing Nat King Cole’s ‘Unforgettable.’ “

Oh, sing it sister. It’s nice to know that even heiresses have been there. Of her time with Sinatra, she says: “Soon after, Sinatra winged along and we parted without even saying good-bye. All along we’d both known that whatever we had together was transient, but isn’t everything really? It’s only when you expect permanence that life disappoints you.”

Ms. Vanderbilt, though, went through far worse pain than anything caused by a lonely breakup. Her son Carter committed suicide at the age of 23, and she had to work to pull herself out of that despair: “I got through each day moment to moment.”

What Ms. Vanderbilt knows – and what seems to have escaped Paris Hilton – is that the lows and the dark days make the highs and the sunny days all the better. The examined life has both. And Ms. Vanderbilt makes that point – in a rather hippy-dippy way, but she makes it.

Her other advice is more practical. “I’ve been involved with three married men in my life. Take it from me, if you are even vaguely tempted – don’t!” Then there are some tips on what to wear to look your most attractive. “Color is important (don’t wear orange), but even more important is the fabric – plushy, soft, nothing scratchy or prickly. Think of touching moss, slightly moist, but warm from the sun. How it feels on you is how it will feel to him when he hugs you, and it will make him want to hug you again.”

“It Seemed Important at the Time” is written in a sometimes loopy, but certainly genuine voice. Ms. Vanderbilt’s life was packed with romance, and the stories she tells are fascinating. It’s the sort of book you just don’t want to put down. Most likely, you won’t have to. It’s only 158 pages. But there’s a lot of life within them.