A friend told me awhile ago that whenever they saw my name they’d think ‘Oh no – what has she done to upset people now!’ I was mildly miffed at the time but, as a long-standing defender of Katie Price – the criminal formerly known as Jordan – this is invariably my reaction these days on seeing her name. Seeing her dressed up as a nun to launch her foray into OnlyFans, even I was moved to tut.
As an admirer of KP’s sauciness and stoicism, I have watched her antics over the past few years with the feeling of growing dismay which I suspect many of my ex-friends feel viewing my own epic game of Snakes & Ladders with the English media. Though she started out as a glamour model, and was never what you’d call wholesome, it all seemed quite jolly and seaside-postcard Carry On-ish for a time when everything she touched turned to gold-plate.
There were the mandatory fashion and cosmetics lines, the string of books, some novels, some autobiographies, all ghost-written by Rebecca Farnworth, who put her in the top 100 authors of the decade between 2000 and 2019, with nearly three million sales.
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