What makes a person influential? Not an “influencer,” as we’ve come to know them, but a person whose very essence people naturally want to emulate?
I’d argue it’s an imperfect alchemy of talent, taste and authenticity, a tangle of both measurable and intangible qualities that make a person magnetic, cool and prone to being copied. Martha Stewart showed audiences she was a visionary hostess, chef and crafting aficionado, but her often dry wit and polished esthetic kept people wanting more. Crucially, she hasn’t always been liked, but she has always been a subject of fascination and interest — and hasn’t had to fake it.
Sure, other competencies contribute to what makes a person go viral or become famous-famous today — like marketing skills and sheer tenacity — but the special sauce that attracts people and makes them want what you have can’t be bought or taught. And Meghan Markle, whose new Netflix series “With Love, Meghan” reads like a one-dimensional billboard for her forthcoming As Ever product line, is proof of that. She might have some natural talents (like acting?) and a work ethic that’s motivating her to pursue mainstream success, but she hasn’t put the time in to proving she’s an expert chef or arbiter of taste — alas, liking to garden and producing your own honey with the help of a professional beekeeper aren’t enough to make you a modern-day Martha or Montecito Alison Roman — nor does she feel authentic enough to be irresistible. For a series that promises to teach audiences how to infuse one’s life with everyday magic, it’s all spark and no flame.
Since leaving the Royal family in 2020, Meghan, the Duchess of Sussex, and her husband, Prince Harry, have mostly fumbled attempts to repair their tarnished image and monetize their post-Windsor life. There was a cancelled podcast, a critically panned Netflix documentary about polo and Markle’s confusing first crack at a jam brand, “American Riviera Orchard,” that has been recently rebranded as a lifestyle brand called “As Ever.” For a couple that left royalty behind in pursuit of a more private life, they’ve sure been busy. Can you blame people for being cynical about some of their profit-driven, if tepidly received, projects?
“With Love, Meghan” rebrands the duchess as a barefoot-in-the-kitchen (literally, at times) hosting expert and modern-day domestic goddess over the course of eight short episodes. Markle is joined by a variety of guests, including friends like makeup artist Daniel Martin and actor Mindy Kaling, in a breezy California kitchen where they cook, bake, craft and throw parties. It’s all meant to be very down home and organic, but the kitchen? A meticulously decorated rental near Markle’s Montecito home. The recipes? Nothing new (although Markle’s breathless commentary on a one-skillet pasta or simple layered cake imply that she’s been asleep since shutting down her blog, The Tig, in 2014). The wardrobe is a carefully curated mix of “high-low,” as Markle herself tells Kaling, name-checking Zara, Loro Piana and Jenni Kayne in a creamy linen and knit ensemble that reads like something the heroine in a Pasadena rom-com would wear. It’s all a little too “Nancy Meyers 101.” And the audience can feel it.
When watching the series with as open a mind as possible (hard to do if you find comments like “they’re busy bees!” grating), you get the impression that Markle wants to be better understood, to be perceived as authentic and relatable, and to be liked. But sadly, the superficial conversations, faux fêtes and regurgitated hostessing hacks (yes, we all know the Ziploc-as-a-piping-bag trick) never scratch far enough below the surface to make a difference. The “chats” feel scripted, the “parties” seem forced and the “tips” aren’t fresh. In the series, as in the posts on her recently relaunched Instagram account, Markle is performing the role of the expert hostess who simply cannot wait to share her talents with you. The only problem is, so far, the talents aren’t unique and the intimate look at her life is dreadfully overproduced.
After facing relentless bullying and countless violations of privacy after her relationship with Prince Harry became public (including her own father selling staged photographs to paparazzi), I understand why Markle wouldn’t want cameras in her home. So why invite them onto a set version of your home at all, then? The cynic in me can’t help but muse that Markle isn’t content enough with being rich and famous — she wants to be beloved, too.
As I watched the series in the wee hours of the morning, I wondered whether Markle would be sharing the recipes she demonstrates on her new website and found myself saying “enough with the flower sprinkles!” after she name-dropped a little tub of dried petals no less than four times in the span of two episodes. Like clockwork, just after noon on the day the show dropped, the first As Ever newsletter landed in my inbox. A poke around the website revealed sneak peeks at some of her soon-to-launch products, including fruit preserves (jam is “her jam,” after all) and — you guessed it — dried flowers marketed as “flower sprinkles.” At press time, the website doesn’t have prices and lets audiences register for an alert when the products are available to shop. As for the recipes? It’s safe to assume a “With Love, Megan” cookbook is in the works.
