In a recent interview with the New York Times on August 28th, Meghan Markle revealed her latest investment in the female-led handbag brand Sesta Collective. She describes this venture as part of her ongoing commitment to personal growth and values. However, a surprising slip in the article sparked speculation that Meghan might be living a different life than the one she portrays to the public.
The original version of the article casually mentioned that Meghan now resides in Santa Monica—a claim that quickly raised eyebrows. Santa Monica is roughly 90 miles away from Montecito, where Meghan and Prince Harry have famously settled. This discrepancy led to speculation about a possible shift in the Sussexes' living arrangements or even a potential split.
The speculation was further fueled when the New York Times swiftly updated the article to correct the location to Montecito, stating that an earlier version had misstated Meghan’s residence. While this correction was intended to set the record straight, the lingering reference to "her house" has only added more fuel to the fire. The timing of this error is particularly intriguing given the recent wave of PR surrounding Meghan.
The article also mentions a dinner with Hollywood A-listers Cameron Diaz and Gwyneth Paltrow—an event that skeptics have dismissed as another fabricated tale. This so-called dinner has been debunked multiple times, with evidence showing that any such gathering occurred over a year ago, if at all. Yet, Meghan continues to weave these glamorous anecdotes into her public persona, reinforcing the narrative that she is deeply entrenched in Hollywood’s elite circles.
This latest New York Times piece feels less like journalism and more like an ad for Meghan Markle. It seems as though Meghan is throwing everything but the kitchen sink at the press in a desperate bid to stay relevant. From trendy investments to name-dropping high-profile acquaintances, she appears determined to remind the world of her supposed influence.
However, the slip-up about her residence—whether intentional or not—has led many to question the authenticity of her narrative. Meghan’s use of the "dolphin tank" analogy to describe her investment strategy is another point of contention. She clearly attempts to distance herself from the aggressive image associated with "Shark Tank," but the choice of words is ironically fitting. Dolphins in captivity are often separated from their families and subjected to cruel conditions, a metaphor that seems oddly appropriate given the reported rift between Meghan and the royal family.
As Meghan talks about investing in herself, glaring contradictions become evident. Despite her claims of empowerment and independence, her relentless pursuit of media attention and rumors of strained relations with Prince Harry suggest that her quest for self-reinvention might be more about self-preservation. The public’s growing skepticism is palpable.
Meghan’s latest business ventures, such as her investment in Sesta Collective, are seen by some as opportunistic moves to capitalize on her fame. The $750 price tag for a woven handbag made in Rwanda—which likely costs a fraction of that to produce—raises ethical questions that Meghan’s feel-good PR can’t quite gloss over. Her relentless self-promotion seems to be backfiring. The New York Times slip-up, whether intentional or not, has opened the door to increased scrutiny of her true lifestyle and motives. As Meghan continues to position herself as a champion of women and sustainability, the cracks in her carefully crafted image are becoming increasingly visible, and the public is starting to see through the facade.
