That's how two breast-cancer charities regard hip-hop mogul P. Diddy, claiming they were stiffed by a "Pink Party" he hosted on Long Island last month that was supposed to raise money for their organizations.
While the host waltzed off with a five-figure fee from the Glo nightclub in Westbury on Oct. 14, "We never got a penny," said Carolyn Spector, director of the Long Island Plastic Surgical Group Foundation, which does breast-reconstruction and other operations for underprivileged patients.
"Nothing was written down, but we were told we would get part of the take," she said. "The terminology was 'proceeds from the event.' "
A staffer for the other charity, 1 in 9: The Long Island Breast Cancer Action Coalition, said, "It's just a little embarrassing. People say, 'How much did you raise for your programs?' And we say, 'We haven't seen anything yet.' "
There was plenty of money coming in that night, the organizations allege, saying guests were charged $10 at the door and $1,000 to sit with Diddy in a VIP area of Glo, a swanky club that holds more than 2,000.
"By 1 a.m., the place was packed," said Spector.
The event, touted by the nightclub as a charitable takeoff of P. Diddy's fabled "White Party" in the Hamptons, asked that guests wear a "splash of pink" in honor of October being the month of breast-cancer awareness.
But Diddy, who promotes himself as a staunch advocate of breast-cancer causes, created a flap when he showed up not wear ing any pink or even realizing he was ex pected to.
But he did walk off with a "consider able amount of money" for playing host, according to a spokesper son for Glo, which came up with the idea for the party.
Diddy declined to say how much he pocketed. The charities said they were told it was $80,000.
The mogul -- whose reported net worth is $380 million, and who Forbes estimated earned $30 million last year -- said he did nothing wrong and doesn't owe the charities a thing.
"I didn't know what the [club] owner promised -- that had nothing to do with me," he told The Post.
"I had no information about the charity. When the event was booked, it was just for an appearance. I agreed to let him add the charity because I thought it was a good idea."
John Smythe, whose father, John Sr., owns Glo, said the club offered Spector and Geri Barish, the director of 1 in 9, a table where they could ask for handouts. The two then ordered drinks and wandered off, he claimed.
"They were working a table for donations," he said. "But they left the table later and start drinking. Seemed like they were into partying."
"That's just a bunch of crapola," Spector shot back. She said the charities were given a verbal promise of a portion of revenue from the bar or door.
"There was never any question of my setting up a table and trying to fund-raise on my own. That's not the way we operate. There weren't even chairs for us to sit down on. And I didn't have anything to drink."
A Glo spokeswoman then called the paper with a different story.
"It was agreed that if there was a profit, a portion of it would be given to the charity," said flack Danielle Orsino. "But the night of the event, there was a torrential rainstorm. They expected thousands and only a few hundred showed up. So they lost money."
No comments:
Post a Comment