There was always a singular reason behind the removal of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s photos from Kris Jenner’s birthday bash at Jeff Bezos’s lavish £125 million Beverly Hills estate.

The answer is simple: overwhelming embarrassment. It was an attempt to mitigate potential harm to their already fragile public image. Unfortunately, the damage was irreversible.

It seemed clear from the start that the vanished pictures from Kris Jenner’s social media were likely removed at the urgent request of Harry and Meghan. What else could explain their sudden disappearance?

Eventually, it must have hit Harry and Meghan that social media posts of them reveling among celebrities during the Remembrance Sunday weekend were not in good taste. Indeed, it was a blunder that could haunt them indefinitely.

Considering the eight-hour time difference, while Harry and Meghan were enjoying themselves with the Kardashians in California, the Royal Family was solemnly attending the Remembrance Day ceremony in London.

This scenario perfectly illustrates the stark contrast and divergent paths of the brothers. Though whispers of reconciliation exist, the rift seems too vast. Besides, the poppies they wore were perhaps the only link left between the two brothers whose lives have become almost satirical in their divergence.

In Westminster Abbey, at the Cenotaph, on the brisk, autumnal streets of the capital, Prince William was all dignity, duty, respect and solemn observance. In his Royal Air Force wing commander uniform, complete with cap and sword, he looked like a man facing his destiny with a stoic, if heavy, heart.

Over the past few years it is no secret that William has not had his problems to seek. His wife and his father have both been stricken with cancer, his uncle is in disgrace, his brother deserted him then publicly insulted him, his sister-in-law – well, don’t get me started.

Matters pending in his inbox include preparing his son to be king one day and doing the same with himself, while somehow ensuring the future of the monarchy through one of its most turbulent patches in history.

Gadfly Prince Harry tipped up at a billionaire’s mansion in Los Angeles with a poppy pin in the lapel of his dinner suit and a grin like a turnip lantern, writes Jan Moir

When H and Megz were delightedly knocking back champagne and dancing the night away with the Kardashians in California, the Royal Family were attending the Remembrance Day service in London

 Meanwhile, gadfly Prince Harry tipped up at a billionaire’s mansion in Los Angeles with a poppy pin in the lapel of his dinner suit and a grin like a turnip lantern. There was an expression on his face that we rarely see in public – one of utter delight.

Whether mingling at the party or busting a move on the dancefloor, Harry was clearly where he wanted to be, he was with his tribe at last – and he was thrilled.

Of course his equally excited wife was at his side, phasers set to networking mode, her VIP antennae throbbing, her smile a mile wide, too. A-listers, here we come! It is not hard to imagine that all the time she was pulling on her paralegal pencil skirt and chomping through her dreary lines on the television show Suits, this was what Meghan dreamed of – rubbing shoulders with the people she laughably regards as the Hollywood elites.

Pinch me, I’m screaming. The 007-themed party was thrown to celebrate weirdo momager Kris Jenner’s 70th birthday and perhaps also to show off the recent £115,000 deep plane facelift that makes her look like a semifreddo version of her former self.

The bash was hosted by her six children – Kim Kardashian, Kourtney Kardashian, Khloé Kardashian, Rob Kardashian, Kylie Jenner and Kendall Jenner – and attendees included Beyonce and Jay Z, Mark Zuckerberg, Oprah Winfrey, Chris Rock, Mariah Carey, Adele and Rich Paul, Tyler Perry, Snoop Dogg, Paris Hilton, Vin Diesel and Bruno Mars, who provided the cabaret.

However, the real entertainment was supplied by the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, who gleefully attended this ugly bug ball of tacky influencers and idle rich, then tried to cover their tracks when they realised how cringe it looked to the outside world.

On a sacred day of Remembrance held to honour British sacrifice in conflict, they didn’t want you to see them enjoying themselves. They didn’t want you to see them living their most authentic lives, happily carousing in Hollywood, deep in the cash-rich pockets of others.

They wanted to pretend they still cared about duty and diligence, that what was important to Britain and the Royal Family was important to them, too. So they tried to have the partying images removed from the internet, but it was too late. Much too late. The Sussexes want to control their image but how can they, when they can’t even control themselves?

In one giant tactical error they have risked annoying their generous Kardashian hosts – who may not have taken kindly to being told what to do with their social media accounts – and irritating the Royal Family with their selfish and glitzy thoughtlessness.

And as ever it is not the deed itself that damns, it is the desperate cover up that is so damaging. The hangover from this party might not be fatal, but Harry and Meghan have made utter fools of themselves. Again.

Seems you’re a bit of a knit-wit, laddie

Fair Isle knitters from the Shetlands are furious with Tom Daley and his new knitting show, Game Of Wool on Channel 4, accusing it and him of cultural appropriation and worse.

Episode one finds Tom – not nearly as cute and charming as he believes himself to be – challenging the contestants to knit a Fair Isle tank top in 12 hours – an impossible and pointless task, only achievable by using giant needles and chunky wool.

Oh, the horror. Real knitters (like me) don’t do chunky. That is like asking Monet to rustle up some more water lilies using a foam roller and a potato printer. Don’t insult us.

Shetland’s knitters complained that what the contestants produced was not a Fair Isle sweater, not even near. Channel 4 listened to these beefs. And then loftily dismissed them.

Tom Daley is the host of Channel 4’s new show Game of Wool. Fair Isle knitters from the Shetlands are furious

A spokesman said: ‘Game of Wool is an entertainment series, and it is our intention that it can be enjoyed by both knitters and non-knitters alike. Channel 4 hold Fair Isle knitting in the highest regard.’

In other words, get lost you moaning minnies. Wouldn’t there have been a very different response had C4 been addressing, say, a bunch of Sikh community elders complaining about a turban tying contest in the new show Game Of Gurdwaras? Cue grovel and endless apologia there, I am sure. But there was no way they were going to take seriously the concerns of a bunch of white, middle-aged women from Somewhere North with one television and 3,000 sheep between them.

Yet isn’t cultural appropriation in danger of being taken too far? Surely the absorption and reinvention of foreign cultures is what makes society vibrant and strong? But no.

A US-based shoe manufacturer had to apologise to Native Americans for the success of their decades-old moccasin range. Adele had to say sorry for wearing a Bantu knot hairstyle to celebrate the Notting Hill carnival. And Bake Off hosts were forced to grovel for wearing ponchos and making tacos on a Mexican-themed show.

Can’t we all just calm down? If Scots can cope with the King wearing a kilt at Balmoral, then anything is possible.

Gordon’s nuptial nightmares…

First the Markles, then the Beckhams, now the Peatys and the Ramsays with the forthcoming nuptials between former Olympic swimmer Adam Peaty and Holly, daughter of chef Gordon Ramsay.

Weddings bring out the best and worst in families; tensions are high, feelings are raw, budgets are tight, nerves are stretched and errors are forced, never to be forgiven.

However, I don’t care what Adam Peaty’s mother has or has not done, but not inviting her to the hen night or the wedding itself is too much; a very public humiliation for a mother who seems to have done nothing except support and love her son all her life. Alpha Dad Gordon should step in and sort it out. Yes, chef! You should.

Three’s not a crowd for tasty Tom 

Thrilled yet also worried about the second series of The Night Manager, which returns to the BBC on New Years Eve. First screened in 2016, this adaptation of the John le Carre novel was tremendous, but so many elements that made it so special will be missing second time around.

Thrilled yet also worried about the second series of The Night Manager, which returns to the BBC on New Years Eve, writes JAN MOIR

Yes, Tom Hiddleston returns as seductive spy Jonathan Pine, excellent. But there will be no Corky (Tom Hollander) as Pine disobligingly beat him to death towards the end of series one.

Olivia Colman is back as frump mum-spy Angela Burr but what about Roper, the evil centre of the drama, a genuinely terrifying performance from Hugh Laurie? There are no screen credits for Laurie, but he is an executive producer. Will the worst man in the world make a surprise return? Fingers crossed.

Pictures suggest undercover Pine is under the covers once more, this time in a thruple with someone called Roxana (Camila Morrone) and a Random Hot Dude. I’m blushing already but Camila is the ex-girlfriend of Leonardo di Caprio, so perhaps she is used to such sauce.

Get over yourself!

Who the hell does Kirsty Gallacher think she is? She accused a judge of having ‘no empathy’ after she was given a driving ban. Yet as she had three speeding offences, he had little choice. Kirsty has a benign brain tumour, radiotherapy appointments, two sons and is claiming hardship. Sympathies all round, but if that were enough to excuse people from being punished for persistent driving offences, the roads would be in chaos.

Why do we still welcome those who hate us? 

Here we go again, wringing our hands and asking ourselves whether Shamima Begum should be allowed to return to the UK.

Has this misbegotten young woman renounced her terrorist sympathies? Is she a better person? Does she repent? Is there still hate in her heart?

These are questions that must be considered but really, does any of it matter any more? In the ten years since the then 15-year-old schoolgirl ran away from London to join Isis, waves of illegal immigrants have washed up here for good. How many of them wish us well, respect our liberal Western values and way of life? Has anyone even asked?

When are we going to wake up to the fact that for years we have been extending tolerance and humanity to those who do not always return the favour?

It is just part of the character of Western society that we are overly tolerant of ideologies and groups who actively despise our values and hate everything we stand for. Will that be our undoing in the end?

In the meantime, I believe Begum and her ilk should stay exactly where they are.