Paris Jackson Covered Her Body in Makeup to Hide Her 80+ Tattoos for the Grammys, Here’s Why

Paris Jackson made a stunning impression at the 2024 Grammys with her red carpet look. However, it wasn’t what she wore that caught people’s attention — it was what she didn’t. The daughter of the late Michael Jackson sparked intrigue among fans and observers by being completely free of tattoos, despite being heavily inked, and was questioned about why she chose to hide it all.

Paris Jackson has been getting tattoos for years. She has lots of different designs, like chakra symbols, quotes from books, and symbols inspired by Led Zeppelin. She even has tattoos that match with many of her friends, like Cara Delevingne, and in 2020 she even tried her hand at tattooing by inking herself in the foot.

At the 2024 Grammys, she rocked a strapless black dress with revealing cutouts, making sure to show off her “magic trick” as all her body art seemingly vanished. But why did the model and singer chose to temporarily hide all her 80+ tattoos?

Well, the 25-year-old just wanted to try something completely different and unique, and this was the answer. In a humorous reel posted on Instagram with the question, “Why did Paris cover her tattoos?”, the answer was given by a voice-over clip of Kim Kardashian saying a now popular quote, “Because it’s iconic, and I love to do iconic things.”

But she has Cover Fx to thank for the element of mystery of her look. The cosmetics company took the opportunity to prove the quality of their products, and they partnered with Jackson to create the jaw-dropping transformation.

With celebrity makeup artist Tyson Fountaine was at the helm of the makeover, she became almost unrecognizable. In a time-lapse video, it’s possible to see the look come to life and slowly see the tattoos disappear from her arms, hands and chest, making for an impressive before-and-after.

Celebrities always give us their best looks on red-carpet events. However, with how often they attend them, they’re bound to have to get creative in order to outdo themselves. And well, Margot Robbie surely outdid herself. Ever since she starred in Barbieshe’s been recreating iconic Barbie looks in real life, and it’s fascinating to see!

Preview photo credit parisjackson / coverfx / Instagramparisjackson / sarahkrickphotography / Instagram, Broadimage Entertainment/Broad Image/East News

I Found Tiny Childrens Shoes on My Late Husbands Grave Every Time I Visited, Their Secret Changed My Life

When Ellen visits Paul’s grave, seeking solace, she’s puzzled by the sight of children’s shoes resting on his headstone. At first, she dismisses it, assuming it’s a mistake by another grieving family. But as more shoes appear over time, the mystery deepens. Determined to understand, Ellen eventually catches the person responsible—and her life changes in an instant.

The first time I saw the shoes, I thought someone had made a mistake. A small pair of blue sneakers lay beside Paul’s headstone, neatly arranged as if left with intention. I figured a grieving parent had misplaced them. People do strange things when they mourn—I know I did. After Paul passed away in a sudden accident, I spent an entire week making jam that I knew I’d never eat. It was the only thing that made me feel like I was doing something, anything.

But those shoes were different. They didn’t belong, and I moved them aside before placing my flowers by Paul’s grave. It wasn’t until my next visit that I noticed something unusual: there were more shoes. This time, tiny red rain boots. Then, during another visit, I found dark green sneakers. It was too deliberate to be random. And it didn’t make sense. Paul and I never had children. I tried to convince myself it was a mistake—a grieving parent finding comfort in placing shoes at the wrong grave—but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

As the shoes multiplied with each visit, it felt like an invisible hand was pulling at the fragile threads of peace I had stitched together. Frustrated, I stopped visiting for a while, hoping that by staying away, the shoes would disappear. They didn’t. Instead, they kept coming. When I finally returned, six pairs of children’s shoes stood in a neat row beside Paul’s headstone, like a haunting tribute I couldn’t comprehend.

My sadness turned into anger. Who was doing this? Was this some cruel joke?

Then, one cold morning, I finally saw her. She was crouched beside the grave, gently placing a pair of small brown sandals next to the growing collection. Her long, dark hair swayed in the breeze as she carefully arranged them, her movements slow and purposeful.

“Hey! You!” I yelled, charging toward her, the flowers I had brought slipping from my grasp, forgotten.

She flinched but didn’t run. Instead, she stood slowly, dusting off her coat before turning to face me. That’s when my breath caught in my throat.

It was Maya—Paul’s old secretary. I hadn’t seen her in years, not since she abruptly left her job. She had always been warm and cheerful, but the woman standing before me now seemed burdened with a sorrow I recognized all too well.

“Maya?” I whispered, the disbelief heavy in my voice.

She nodded, her eyes red with unshed tears. Without a word, she reached into her coat pocket and handed me a worn photograph. My hands shook as I took it, my heart pounding in my chest.

It was a picture of Paul, smiling down at a baby boy cradled in his arms.

“His name is Oliver,” Maya said softly. “He’s Paul’s son.”

I stumbled backward, the world spinning as the weight of her words sank in. My husband, the man I thought I knew so well, had lived a secret life—with a child.

“You and Paul were…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

Maya nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you. But after Paul’s accident, Oliver started asking about his dad. I told him Paul was watching over him, and every time Oliver gets a new pair of shoes, he asks me to bring the old ones to his daddy.”

The shoes… they were a child’s way of staying connected to the father he had lost.

I wanted to scream, to demand answers from a man who could no longer give them. But standing there, staring at the shoes left behind by a little boy who would never know his father, I felt my anger start to melt into something else—something softer.

Maya looked at me with guilt etched on her face. “I’ll stop bringing the shoes. I never meant to upset you.”

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