Meghan Markle—who, not that long ago, said she and Harry would never do reality TV—has just debuted in... wait for it... a reality TV show. Yes, you read that correctly. Netflix themselves are labeling it a reality TV show. The irony here is so thick, you could cut it with a silver spoon—probably one she tried to swipe from the palace.
Let’s rewind a bit, shall we? Remember 2020, when their spokesperson was practically clutching their pearls at the mere suggestion that the Sussexes would ever do reality TV? "The Duke and Duchess are not taking part in any reality shows," they declared, with their noses so high in the air they were practically seeing their own halos. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
And here's what makes this whole thing even more delicious: This isn’t just any reality show, folks—no, no, it's a cooking and lifestyle show from someone who once positioned herself as a humanitarian and a global change-maker. But now, instead of changing the world, Meghan’s showing us how to arrange flowers and make avocado toast. The timing? Fascinating. Just when their Netflix deal was looking shaky after that polo disaster (did anyone actually watch that?), Meghan’s apparently discovered her inner Martha Stewart. It’s like watching someone who once claimed they'd never work in fast food again… suddenly flipping organic, free-range burgers. Except, of course, with a side of word salad about authenticity and living your truth.
And let’s talk about that show’s promo, shall we? "Reimagining the lifestyle programming genre"? Please. What exactly is she reimagining here? Because, from where I’m sitting, it sounds like every other celebrity lifestyle show we've seen a hundred times before. But of course, it can't just be a simple cooking show, oh no. It has to be "inspiring," "candid," and about "creating beauty in the unexpected." Seriously, is everything they do meant to sound like it's changing the world, even if it's just showing people how to make a sandwich?
The palace’s reaction to this whole thing is priceless. “Everyone wants it to be a success,” they said. Translation? “Please, for the love of all that is royal, let this keep her busy enough to stop writing tell-all books.” When your own family is basically begging you to keep busy so you’ll stop airing the family’s dirty laundry, you might want to take a long, hard look in the mirror.
And that Instagram caption? “I’ve been so excited to share this with you”? Really? Is this the grand plan all along? Leave the royal family, move to California, sign multi-million dollar deals, and become a lifestyle guru? It’s like watching someone quit their CEO job to become an Instagram influencer. Actually, that’s exactly what this is.
What really gets me, though, is the complete 180 from their initial Netflix promises. Remember when they said they’d create informative and inspiring content? When they were going to tell stories that matter? And now, here we are, getting gardening tips. Don't get me wrong, gardening’s lovely, but it's a far cry from changing the world, isn’t it?
Meanwhile, let’s take a quick look at what the real working royals are doing. While Meghan's over there teaching people how to arrange flowers, Catherine’s out there actually making real change—working on early childhood development, supporting mental health initiatives, and showing what true royal work looks like. Even when dealing with personal health struggles, Catherine maintains her dignity and her commitment to service. Now that is inspiring.
The contrast couldn’t be more stark. While Catherine is focused on substantial charitable work and real social impact, Meghan has gone from claiming she wanted to “modernize the monarchy” to showing people how to make a proper cup of tea. (Though, let’s be honest—given her track record with the British, she might need a few lessons herself.)
And let’s talk about that title, "With Love, Meghan." Could it be any more on the nose? It’s like she’s trying to rebrand herself as the warm, fuzzy lifestyle guru after years of slamming the royal family. One minute, she’s claiming the royals are racist and cruel; the next, she’s teaching us how to make cucumber sandwiches. Make it make sense.
What’s even more fascinating is how they’re spinning this as some kind of elevated content. Oh no, it’s not just reality TV—it’s “reimagining the genre of lifestyle programming.” Really? That’s like saying you’re not just eating a sandwich, you’re “reimagining the culinary experience of bread-based nutrition.” The pretentiousness is off the charts.
Can we talk about the timing, though? The show drops right when the royal family is dealing with genuine health concerns. While King Charles and Princess Anne face real health challenges with dignity and privacy, Meghan’s out here promoting her lifestyle show. The priorities couldn’t be more glaring.
But, of course, they’re trying to spin this as a victory. See? “We’re not talking about the royal family anymore!” Well, congratulations. You’ve managed to do the bare minimum by not publicly trashing your relatives while they’re dealing with serious health issues.
It’s like watching someone who spent years claiming they’re too good for their hometown suddenly showing up at the local diner because they need the money. Except in this case, it’s someone who claimed they were too good for the royal family, now starring in a reality TV show. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
And let’s not forget their previous Netflix efforts—the documentary that was “definitely not a reality show,” yet somehow included home videos and intimate moments. I guess it’s only a reality show when they admit it.
The mental gymnastics they’ve done to justify all of this should honestly qualify as an Olympic sport. But here's the kicker: the palace, in its diplomatic response, has said they “hope it’s a success,” just so Harry and Meghan won’t need to keep exploiting their royal connections. Chef’s kiss. When your own family is saying, “Please let this work so they stop talking about us,” it’s time for some serious self-reflection.
But let’s be real—the lack of self-awareness here is astounding. Meghan and Harry left the royal family because they wanted privacy, right? Yet now they’re literally inviting cameras into their home to film cooking and gardening. Make it make sense.
And, lastly, let’s talk about the suggestion that this show won’t mention the royal family. Is that supposed to be some kind of achievement? “Look at us! We made a whole show without attacking our relatives!” When did not attacking your family become something to brag about?
The whole “With Love, Meghan” branding is perfect in its irony. Nothing says love quite like spending years publicly criticizing your in-laws, then trying to rebrand yourself as this warm, fuzzy lifestyle guru. When the Netflix numbers drop, it’ll be like watching a professional wrestler try to rebrand as a yoga instructor. Technically possible, but the audience might have some questions.
