I don’t know what’s going on with you, but as your friend for 20 years, I can’t bite my tongue any more about the way your chaotic life is going.
Piers says Katie Price needs to pull herself together, for her kids’ sake
Katie showing off her new boobs on her recent trip to Thailand
Last September, Katie was involved in a shocking car crash But now she’s bought a new pink Ferrari
You’re a straight talker like me, so let me be brutally frank: you’re spiralling completely out of control, and this won’t end well if you don’t wake the f**k up pretty damn sharpish and pull yourself together.
‘My middle name is Drama,’ you once proudly said, ‘but I love it. I think everyone should have some kind of stress in their life; otherwise, it’s boring, isn’t it?’
To a point.
I like a bit of drama, and a bit of stress, but I also like a bit of calm, and a bit of self-awareness.
By contrast, you seem to be on a deluded one-woman mission to self-destruct, and it’s heart-breaking to watch.
In the past three years, you’ve been declared bankrupt owing millions in tax, admitted to extensive cocaine abuse, badly broken both ankles and feet jumping off a wall at a theme park in Turkey, suffered injuries in a late-night domestic fight that led to your then boyfriend being arrested, had endless new plastic surgeries (13 boob jobs now – seriously??) and recently been accused of repeatedly cheating on your fiancée.
The shocking car crash you endured last September, which nearly cost you your life, should have been the moment to shake you into reality.
I remember seeing the pictures of your smashed-up BMW rolled over on a West Sussex country lane and thanking God you survived.
But my relief quickly turned to anger when I heard you’d spent all night partying on cocaine and vodka before you got behind the wheel, reportedly in an effort to go find more drugs, especially when it emerged you weren’t even allowed to drive as you were still serving a lengthy ban for various other motoring offences including speeding and withholding the identity of the driver of your Range Rover following a separate crash.
You were given a 16-week suspended sentence and booked into the Priory clinic, and I hoped this would perhaps snap you into cold-hard reality.
But what do I see this week?
You, buying a £179,000 custom-made pink Ferrari – even though you can’t legally drive it – apparently, according to friends, as a gift to yourself ‘for all I’ve gone through.’
And my heart sank.
For the love of God, Katie, the very last thing you need in your life is one of the world’s fastest and most powerful supercars to career around village lanes when your licence is eventually returned.
As for the self-pitying crap about rewarding yourself for all you’ve been through, give me a break!
Katie and Piers have been friends for a long time
She and ex-fiancé Carl Woods recently split up, and she was accused of cheating
Carl was arrested after a late-night fight between the pair Katie on holiday in Thailand, before her split from Carl The model broke both her feet in Turkey jumping from a wall
Almost all of it has been entirely self-inflicted during a lengthy self-indulgent orgy of reckless, selfish, criminal behaviour that has made even your biggest supporters – and I’ve been one of them over the years – hold their heads in exasperated horror.
Worse, it’s made some of us genuinely fear for what may come next.
To be blunt: I don’t want to wake up to news even worse than your horror smash.
And nor do your five kids, to whom you’ve been a great mother in between all the mayhem.
A GREAT MUM
Katie, you’ve always been a wonderfully entertaining character, a high-energy bundle of crazy fun whose mere presence is guaranteed to spice up any event.
You’re a spectacularly irreverent person who remains refreshingly unfazed by anyone’s supposed ‘status.’
I remember you coming to my spoof Morgan Awards in 2009 and telling Lord Sugar: “We’re very similar, you and me, Al – both rough, tough businesspeople who take no nonsense from anyone.”
Though where you differ is that whilst the Lord slipped away sober and early, you ended up at 3am, drunk as a skunk, tunelessly wailing songs at the top of your voice in the bar, while lying prostrate on the floor at the feet of startled newsreader Mark Austin and cricket stars Freddie Flintoff and Michael Vaughan.
(A nervous-looking Austin was heard exclaiming, ‘This photograph could end ALL our careers, chaps – let’s move.’)
I remember lounging by the Beverly Wilshire hotel pool in Los Angeles when you appeared out of nowhere and cackled: “Morgan, how the devil are you? I’ve been watching you sunbathing from the salon while I had my nails done. I’ve come to cause a bit of chaos at the Oscars. In fact, I’m off to see my plastic surgeon now to have a load of Botox pumped into my face so I look great on Sunday.”
I remember you stumbling towards me at Simon Cowell’s 50th birthday party, where you’d morphed into full-on Jordan as the night wore on, and expressing your indignant rage that the birthday boy had just declined your offer of a risqué sexual gift.
I remember bumping into you at the National TV Awards and asking if you were intoxicated. “I’m not drunk yet,” you laughed, “but I will be soon and when I am, watch out Morgan!” Then you explained exactly what you would do to me, which I’m afraid is not repeatable in a family newspaper!
And I remember being told by an impeccable celebrity source, who was there, about an outrageous dinner party in Italy a few years ago where you suddenly flashed your surgically enhanced cleavage at our now Prime Minister, Boris Johnson.
All of this added to the ‘Pricey’ legend.
And the reason I’ve always liked you is that despite all your coarse, rebellious, vulgar antics, you’re also one of the most spectacularly open, honest and frank celebrities that I know.
Katie’s always been a great mum to her five kids
I’m also massively admiring of your tender, loving care for your severely disabled son Harvey.
I’ve seen it at first hand on numerous occasions and found your unconditional love for him profoundly moving, especially given you’ve received no help from his father, former Manchester United star Dwight Yorke.
But right now, I’m finding it very hard to praise you for anything because everything you do and say these days smacks of someone who has jumped the shark from amusing entertainer to embarrassing train-wreck.
The stupid Ferrari purchase said it all.
You don’t seem to worry that it might kill you, which given your track record as a driver is sadly quite likely.
Nor that it’s a horrible smack in the teeth to all your family and friends who’ve been there throughout your money and motoring troubles.
It’s like you’re proud to be woefully irresponsible, and if so, that’s pathetic.
On Thursday, you posted a photo of yourself back in hospital, and were seen in a sweatshirt with the words ‘HEALTH IS WEALTH.’
Yes, it is.
And right now, your ravaged physical and mental state suggests to me that your health is as unwealthy as your bank account.
You may be outraged by this open letter and tell me to shove my concern where the sun doesn’t shine.
But whether you want to hear it or not, someone has to tell you some home truths before it’s too late.
WAKE UP, Katie.
Don’t do it for me – do it for your children. Piers says his pal needs some home truths
Kate as a young model