Just when the world thought the Sussexes had quietly settled into their California dream, Meghan Markle re-entered the spotlight with With Love, Meghan—a Netflix lifestyle show that was meant to be her sparkly, post-royal renaissance. What we got instead? A tonedeaf, painfully beige mess of candles, jam jars, and PR disasters wrapped in beeswax.
The show, hyped as a heartfelt homage to slow living and California vibes, was intended to be Meghan’s “Martha Stewart moment.” But instead of fresh scones and relatable glow-ups, we got manufactured “look at me” moments and cringe-inducing performances of authenticity. Critics from The Independent to The Irish Times roasted it, calling it everything from “queasy” and “exhausting” to “bland beige wallpaper that doesn’t even qualify as hate-watchable.” Rotten Tomatoes scores? A pitiful 33% from critics, and a soul-crushing 20% from audiences. That’s not just a flop—that’s a royal implosion.
Even usually diplomatic outlets like The Guardian couldn’t hide their contempt, hinting the show might spell the end of the couple’s $100 million Netflix deal. The paper called it so pointless, “it might be the Sussexes’ last TV show.”
But why did With Love, Meghan crash so spectacularly?
For one, the authenticity gap was just too wide to ignore. Viewers were promised an intimate look into Meghan’s home life, but instead, she filmed in a rented $8 million farmhouse—not her real $14 million mansion. Cue the awkward irony. Critics slammed the show as a hollow performance where famous friends showed up just to tell Meghan how amazing she is. Eight episodes of that? Exhausting.
Then came the jam scandal.
Yes, jam. Meghan sent out numbered jars of her “homemade” strawberry preserves to a circle of celebrity pals. What was supposed to be a cutesy gift sparked off-screen drama and confusion. Actress Mindy Kaling hilariously pointed out her jar was labeled #50, jokingly wondering if she was last on the list. But others weren’t laughing. Insiders whispered about bruised egos and petty fallout.
Comedian Christina P flat-out mocked Meghan’s efforts to be the next Martha Stewart, pointing out the Duchess doesn’t even like honey but filmed herself “bonding” with bees and crafting candles like it was her calling. Stewart herself couldn’t resist throwing shade, questioning if Meghan’s show was even out yet—a subtle but brutal dig.
And let’s not forget the contradiction at the heart of Meghan’s post-royal branding. The woman who fled royal life for “privacy” is now starring in a reality-style show about her not-so-private life. As celebrity publicist Rob Shuter bluntly put it, “She doesn’t help herself.” Shooting a show in a kitchen that’s not even hers just reinforces the idea that nothing about this project feels real.
The authenticity problem doesn’t stop there. Meghan’s lifestyle brand—now rebranded as As Ever—is supposedly headed to malls like King of Prussia and the Dallas Galleria. Netflix is banking on product placements with everything from elegant table linens to pancake mix. But with no confirmed launch date, no pricing, and rising skepticism, even this glossy dream seems built on shaky foundations.
Still, Meghan’s not backing down. She’s been celebrating fan-made content on social media and hyping up her community of jam-loving, candle-pouring followers. She insists she’s inspired by their support. But the critics remain unmoved. The show may have trended in countries like Hungary and Kenya, and briefly hit #6 in the UK, but in the all-important American market, it fizzled.
Meanwhile, the Meghan Markle mythos is being shredded from another front: her own family. Half-brother Thomas Markle Jr. has accused her of exaggerating—or outright fabricating—her “humble” childhood tales of fast food and financial struggle. “We weren’t poor,” he claimed, accusing Meghan of selling “malarkey” to win royal and public sympathy.
The cherry on top? Royal biographer Tina Brown believes Meghan and Harry botched their royal exit, claiming they left the palace far too early. If only Meghan had “zipped it” and waited, she argues, the Sussexes could’ve secured royal real estate and global relevance without the reality show chaos.
So what does all this mean for Meghan Markle’s future?
Despite the backlash, Netflix seems cautiously optimistic—at least for now. They quietly filmed season two back-to-back with the first, a cost-saving move that allows them to test the waters before investing further. But whether that next season ever airs may depend on whether Meghan can win back the public—or at least figure out how to make a show that doesn’t feel like a perfectly lit Instagram post with no soul.
One thing’s certain: Meghan is no Martha Stewart. Not yet. And if With Love, Meghan was supposed to show us who she really is, it may have done just that—just not in the way she hoped.
