HI, I’M Rita Ora, the pop star you can’t name any hits by. Would you like to make a ‘serious and inexcusable error of judgement’ like me? Try this:
Have absolutely no awareness of what a small gathering means
As am entitled obnoxious celebrity, I was only marginally aware that we weren’t doing big parties anymore. I cut my guest list ruthlessly, from 500 to 200 to 100 to a mere 30, all A-listers, but apparently that was still against the rules. Ridiculous.
Illegally hire your favourite exclusive London venue
All hospitality venues being closed didn’t bother me in the slightest. I only go to designer boutiques, private clubs and art galleries when they’re closed because I’m famous, so why should my big devoid-of-thought 30th bash be any different? I paid the ten grand fine in advance. Cash.
Put it all over Instagram
My Instagram is my life, my connection with my fans, my main source of income. So of course my party was going on there. What would be the point of holding it otherwise?
Perfect your apology
As a celebrity laughing in the face of public health, I got my sob story drafted early. It’s only common courtesy to drop your publicist a line to let them know you’re about to piss off an entire country. A few empty sentiments about ‘I know how hard people have worked to combat this virus’ cost nothing.
Flee the country for ‘work purposes’
Once you’ve had your fun, f**k right off. Leave the Jonathan Ross show in the shit, take a private plane to a private island and post a few bikini shots. The tabloid press and their readers don’t care how much of a selfish twat you’ve been if you’ve got great boobs.