Rita Ora

If there is a sense when Rita Ora walks into a room that a star has already been ordained from above then nobody appears to have told the young Londoner and future pop princess herself. She has not an air or a grace about her. She greets the bar staff dotted in the hostelries of her neighbourhood like old friends, mostly because they are. She bumps knuckles with the coat check chicks and management with the same egalitarian smile. Friends stop by for a brief 'Hi'. Strangers look on with a discernible, barely contained 'wow'. There is no mistaking the fact that Saturday night in Notting Hill is brightened by a touch of Rita's special aura. She might not have been born this way, but she was...

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