Katie Price says she is reflecting on her life for the first time in Katie Price: Nothing to Hide, and Peter Andre is the name that hangs over the documentary’s opening episode. The four-part film starts with her looking back at the fame chase, the relationships that followed and the image choices that made her a fixture in public life.
She had already written nine autobiographies before this series, and she had also appeared in numerous documentaries and reality shows. That long paper trail makes the new programme less like an introduction than a fresh account from inside a life that has already been traded over many times.
Katie Price and Dane Bowers
From her early teens, Price was eager for fame, and she said she learned that attracting male attention was the route to it. She began by looking hot in Brighton clubs, then appeared topless at 18 in a national newspaper that sold millions of copies a day. “The excitement was ridiculous,” she said. “I wanted more.”
Her story then turns to Dane Bowers, whom she traded in for a local boyfriend after he emerged from Another Level. The documentary gives the exchange a blunt commercial logic: attention, image and visibility were all part of the same ladder.
The Sun vote on breasts
Readers were invited to vote on whether Price should get bigger breasts, and 80 per cent said she should stay with her “natural born thrillers”. She got bigger breasts anyway, but said the only problem was that they did not look unnatural enough. She upgraded again until they were unmistakably “stuck on”.
That sequence matters because it shows how public appetite and personal branding were fused together. Price was not just selling a body image; she was responding to an audience that had already been asked to judge it.
Peter Andre hits back over Lee Andrews’ five-children claim — Katie Price sits in the same orbit, because this documentary keeps returning to the men and media pressure that shaped her image. The result is less nostalgia than a record of how a tabloid figure learned to turn herself into headline material.
Dane Bowers, pills and fallout
Bowers told her to wear more clothes in photographs or he would leave, and she initially chose the more-clothes option. She later put out an unambiguously sexy calendar, and he left. After that, she said, she took “a load of pills”, and Bowers found her unconscious in hospital with a picture of him on her chest.
“She’s taking the piss,” he said. Price’s reply is the harder line: “I didn’t want to kill myself. I just wanted him to want me back.” That contradiction is the documentary’s real edge, because it pushes past the tidy version of regret and into the messier logic of dependence, control and self-display.
Ten fun years
Price said she had enjoyed “the ten fun years” before her life turned “turbulent”, and the documentary treats that turn as the hinge of her public story. It presents her as engaging company, but the tone is closer to a novel by Martin Amis at his most blackly comic than to a redemption arc.
For viewers, the practical value is simple: the opening episode sets up a four-part run that will keep tracing how fame, relationships and image decisions fed one another. Price has already told the first chapter herself; the later episodes now have to show how far that first version can be pushed.
