Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, the royal rejects turned hustlers, are having a tough time lately. Their big-money podcast deal with Spotify, which they landed after abandoning the palace for sunny California, hasn't been going great.
So, an $18 million payday for Meghan to simply open her trap and yap away must be nice, right? But it seems the former cable actress couldn't quite live up to her end of the bargain. Bill Simmons, a top exec, was calling them Z-list grifters after they delivered only 12 episodes. Ouch. Those are some choice words for the once-well-regarded duo. But can you blame the guy?
Meghan and Harry sold Spotify a dream of duchess dishing candid tales of the struggles as a royal princess trapped in Buckingham Palace. A chance to unpack the heavy psychological baggage of having servants attend to your every whim. Instead, they got some lukewarm ramblings about ambitious millennial women that felt more preachy than juicy.
I'm not sure who greenlit this vanity project, but my thoughts are with them during these troubled times. Maybe don't stake your company's future on a celeb deal next time.
While we're dishing on Harry and Meghan's spectacular downfall, let's pause to savor the delicious irony that good old Prince Andrew's daughter, Princess Beatrice, seems to be enjoying a much better reception — and wait for it — on Spotify too. That's right, even as Meghan's podcast belly flops, Bea has been welcomed with open arms by the company to host discussions on tech and innovation.
The charismatic princess with prestigious royal pedigree, Harry and Meghan's nemesis, is treating Spotify with respect and delivering value rather than putting on airs. You know this success has to sting for the duchess who fancies herself as an avant-garde and cutting edge. Yet, here's the real blue-blooded royal from the firm she loves villainizing, showing her up on her playing field.
You can't picture Meghan just stewing on her $14 million Montecito estate, surrounded by rescue chinchillas and noisy commercial juicers. Her blood pressure is surely rising as she watches Beatrice engage with Spotify brass without a trace of self-importance, no megawatt smiles, or exaggerated concern for society's downtrodden — just poise, substance, and the ability to, you know, do the job she's paid for.
The steam has to be absolutely pouring from Meghan's ears, knowing that while her monstrously overhyped podcast flops, the demure daughter of sketchy Prince Andrew is eating her lunch. All without endlessly yapping about her voice being surpassed, as Meghan so loves insisting, while her nails dig into the lamb.
I can only imagine the poisonous jealousy coursing through Meghan's veins as Beatrice effortlessly outshines her. For years, Meghan has tried fruitlessly to convince the world she's this generation's Angelina Jolie — a profound humanitarian bound for the highest echelons of celebrity activism, hamstrung only by the stuffy, outdated traditions of the firm. But Beatrice's reception puts the lie to that delusion once and for all.
It's not crusty old royal tradition holding Meghan back from greater success; it's her own hunger for attention. While Bea takes a less-is-more approach and lets her natural warmth and reliability speak for itself, Meghan is constantly rubbing folks' noses in her legitimacy.
