Meghan Markle’s latest venture, American Riviera Orchard, came to an abrupt halt back in March.
Meghan introduced the world to this so-called lifestyle brand with much fanfare, but instead of dazzling the public with her ingenuity, she left people confused and disappointed. The launch included cryptic Instagram posts, strange videos of Meghan wandering her kitchen in a ball gown, and a conspicuous absence of actual products. It felt less like the rollout of a brand and more like a teaser for a gothic horror film.
The absence of any tangible merchandise, or even the option to shop, left people scratching their heads. When one hears of a lifestyle brand launch, it’s reasonable to expect actual items for sale, but Meghan seemed to assume her celebrity status alone would suffice. Unfortunately, the reception was more mocking than enthusiastic. Nevertheless, Meghan likely absorbed all the attention, convinced that bad publicity is still better than none.
Shortly after, the so-called “Jam Scam” made headlines. Meghan reportedly sent out 50 jars of homemade jam to select celebrities, but no one has actually seen any of these jars. Speculation arose: Did she make them herself, or did she simply slap homemade labels onto store-bought preserves? No one knows for sure, but what is clear is that this stunt led to more ridicule. Rather than pivoting, Meghan doubled down on her bizarre marketing, following up with dog biscuits and—yes—more jam. For some reason, when a brand is struggling, she seemed to think more jam was the solution.
Rumors also surfaced about a potential cooking show tie-in, but, as with many of Meghan’s ventures, it never came to fruition. Instead, she was spotted strolling through farmers' markets and attending high-profile summits in the Hamptons, likely in search of anyone willing to invest in her failing brand. But who would back a venture that seems destined to fail?
To make matters worse, Meghan’s attempt to trademark the name American Riviera Orchard was rejected by the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office. The reasoning? American Riviera is a common nickname for Santa Barbara, where she resides, and simply adding the word “Orchard” wasn’t enough to make it distinct. Now, Meghan has three months to amend her application or face legal rejection, along with an additional $700 fee to keep her struggling brand afloat. This isn’t her first trademark failure, either. Her attempt to trademark the name Archetypes, her podcast title, was also denied. You would think by now she’d realize that maybe brand-building isn’t her strong suit.
While Meghan fights legal battles over trademarks, King Charles has been quietly excelling in his own ventures. He recently launched a line of limited-edition silk scarves in collaboration with eco-friendly designers Vin and Omi. These scarves, inspired by the late Queen Elizabeth’s love of color, have been flying off the shelves at Sandringham, priced at £85 each. Not only are they selling out, but they’re also part of a sustainable initiative, using materials derived from milk cartons and invasive weeds.
Meanwhile, Meghan struggles to get even a jar of jelly on the market. Imagine her frustration as she watches King Charles—who’s balancing the management of a realm, health challenges, and his role as a grandfather—effortlessly sell out his collection. In stark contrast, Meghan remains in California, unable to secure a simple trademark for a brand she launched six months ago.
The real issue with Meghan seems to be her obsession with instant success. She appears to want to leap from obscurity to empire overnight without putting in the years of hard work that most successful brands require. All the while, the royal family continues to quietly outperform her, achieving success without the theatrics.
