You know how they say “no good deed goes unpunished”? Well, sometimes it feels like no PR stunt goes unnoticed either. So, picture this: while California is grappling with devastating wildfires, who shows up but our favorite publicity-hungry duo? And of course, Meghan is front and center, rocking a blue LA baseball cap, because nothing screams "I’m here to help" quite like perfectly coordinated casual wear, right?
Let me tell you, what really gets me about this whole situation is the stark contrast between the severity of the disaster and how Meghan seems to be using it as a promotional opportunity for her American Riviera Orchid brand. I mean, really—is nothing sacred anymore? It’s particularly distasteful to use a natural disaster as the backdrop for what looks like a brand launch.
Remember when being royal meant serving others with dignity and discretion? Back in the day, it wasn’t about making sure the cameras caught your good side while you were supposedly helping people. Let’s compare this to how the real working royals handle situations like this. When William and Catherine visit disaster areas, do they bring along their own branded products? Do they make sure everyone knows they’re there? No. They focus on the people affected, offering real comfort and support, not creating photo ops.
And can we talk about the timing here for a minute? Isn’t it interesting how these appearances always happen when they need some positive press? When other ventures aren’t quite hitting the mark, suddenly they’re front and center at a major news event. The cynical part of me can’t help but wonder if someone’s PR team was sitting around thinking, “You know what would make great optics? Handing out food to fire evacuees.”
Now, don’t get me wrong—any help during a crisis is good help, but the way this whole thing was handled feels a little... off. It’s like when someone does something nice but makes sure to film it for social media. There’s a difference between genuine charity and what I’d call charitable performance art.
Here’s what went down: They showed up at the Pasadena Convention Center, supposedly serving food “anonymously” earlier in the day—though somehow we all know about it now. Funny how that works. Then, they return for the cameras, I mean, to help more people. They're seen hugging evacuees, talking to emergency workers, and, of course, there just happen to be photographers there to capture every moment. And then there’s Mayor Victor Gordo’s comments about them not being there for publicity. Bless his heart, but if it looks like a PR stunt and smells like a PR stunt, well, you get the idea.
I’ve been covering these two long enough to know that very little happens by accident when it comes to their public appearances. And speaking of appearances, let’s talk about World Central Kitchen. This is an incredible organization doing real, life-saving work. Chef José Andrés is a hero, showing up time after time to help people in crisis. But even their involvement feels a little like a prop in the Sussex show. They’ve almost perfected the art of charitable photobombing.
What breaks my heart in all this is that real people are suffering. Eleven lives have been lost. Thousands of homes have been damaged or destroyed. These aren’t just statistics; these are people’s lives, their homes, their memories. And somehow, it feels like their pain is being used as background scenery for someone else’s narrative.
Remember when Harry was just Prince Harry, doing charitable work without it feeling like a performance? The transformation has been... well, it’s sad, isn’t it? It’s like watching someone you once respected slowly turn into a supporting actor in someone else’s show.
And speaking of the American Riviera Orchard brand, let’s talk about the timing here. Using a natural disaster to soft-launch or promote your lifestyle brand? There’s something almost grotesque about that level of opportunism. It’s like trying to sell umbrellas at a funeral. Technically not illegal, but definitely in poor taste.
The contrast between this and how Catherine handles similar situations couldn’t be more stark. When she visits hospitals, disaster areas, or charitable organizations, there’s a real warmth, a genuine connection with people. She doesn’t need to make sure everyone knows she’s there. She’s just there, doing the work, making a real difference.
This reminds me of that person we all know who can’t do anything nice without posting about it on social media. “Look at me helping these poor people! #blessed #makingadifference.” It’s charity as performance art, and it’s exactly what the monarchy is not supposed to be about.
Let’s take a look at what the real working royals have been doing while all this is going on. William and Catherine have been quietly getting on with their duties, making a real difference without needing to alert the press every time they do something good. That’s what real service looks like. It’s not about the photos. It’s about the work.
And speaking of work, let’s remember this is the same couple who claimed they left the royal family because they wanted privacy. Yet somehow, they always manage to show up at newsworthy events, with photographers conveniently present to capture their good deeds. It’s particularly interesting that all of this comes at a time when their Netflix deal is reportedly winding down, and people are starting to question their relevance in Hollywood. Suddenly, they’re front and center at a major news event. Coincidence? Well, you know what they say about those.
And can we talk about the hugging? Look, I’m all for showing emotion and offering comfort, but there’s something about these interactions that feels staged. Honestly, it’s like watching a reality TV show where everyone’s being genuine—except for that one person who’s always aware of where the cameras are.
What really gets me is how this could have been handled differently. Imagine if they’d just shown up, helped out, and left without making sure everyone knew they were there. Imagine if they’d focused on the victims rather than the optics. Imagine if they’d used their platform to shine a light on the firefighters, the first responders, the real heroes. But no, instead, we get carefully staged photos, anonymous volunteer work that somehow makes headlines, and what seems like a promotional opportunity for a certain lifestyle brand.
It’s like watching a master class in how to turn someone else’s tragedy into your own PR opportunity. But let’s not forget about the victims—the real story here. These are people who have lost everything. They’re not props in someone’s image-rehabilitation campaign. They’re real people, dealing with real trauma. Yet somehow, their story has gotten lost in the Sussex spectacle.
The most frustrating part is that they could be doing so much good. They have the platform, they have the resources, they have the opportunity to make a real difference. But instead, it always seems to come back to them, to their image, to their brand.
And speaking of brand, let’s talk about the American Riviera Orchard situation again. Launching or promoting a lifestyle brand in the middle of a natural disaster? Really? Is nothing sacred anymore? It’s like trying to sell merchandise at a memorial service. It’s so transparent.
What really gets me is the way they try to have it both ways. They want to be seen as private citizens when it suits them, but they still trade on their royal connections when they need to. They want to escape the constraints of royal duty but still crave all the attention that comes with it.
If this were truly about helping people, we wouldn’t know about it. We wouldn’t see these carefully staged photos, or hear about their “anonymous” volunteer work. Real charity, real service doesn’t need an audience.
Compare this to how the real working royals handle these situations. When Catherine visits a hospital or William meets with disaster victims, it’s not about them. It’s about the people they’re there to support. It’s about bringing attention to important causes, not themselves. The contrast is growing more obvious with every passing day.
While William and Catherine continue to embody what royal service should be about, we get this—this constant need for attention, endless PR stunts, and perpetual performances of caring. It’s exhausting, isn’t it? Remember when royal duty meant something? When it wasn’t about personal brand-building or image management?
The sad part is, there are probably people who genuinely appreciated their presence—people who found comfort in their words and actions. But even that gets tainted by the way this whole thing feels staged and calculated. It’s like they can’t help but turn everything into a photo op.
Let’s not forget, these are the same people who couldn’t handle the pressures of royal duty in the UK—the same people who claimed they wanted to escape the spotlight. Yet here they are, making sure everyone knows about their good deeds, ensuring every charitable act gets its moment in the sun.
What’s particularly frustrating is that they could be doing so much good. They have the opportunity to truly make a difference. But instead, it always comes back to them, their image, their brand.
Speaking of brand, let’s circle back to the American Riviera Orchard. Promoting a brand in the middle of a natural disaster? Really? Is nothing sacred anymore?
It’s like watching someone try to sell umbrellas at a funeral.
