Meghan Markle, along with her perpetually reserved husband, Prince Harry, recently visited evacuation centers in Pasadena to support victims of the devastating Los Angeles wildfires.
What could have been a dignified show of solidarity unfortunately devolved into yet another spectacle of public relations. Meghan claimed, “We were there anonymously; publicity is the last thing we need right now,” seemingly oblivious to the irony of her statement coinciding with the promotional buzz surrounding her upcoming Netflix show set to launch on January 15th. If this is what anonymity looks like, then Santa Claus doesn’t wear red.
Amidst the chaos of a natural disaster, the royal couple managed to organize a smiling group photo session. As cities burned, their choreographed photo ops seemed as out of place as a summer barbecue. Meghan, positioned prominently in the center, directed the group with the precision of an annoyed wedding photographer, her demeanor screaming, “Why don’t they already know I’m the center of the universe?” Beside her, Jennifer Siebel Newsom, wife of California Governor Gavin Newsom, looked visibly uncomfortable, as if she’d prefer to be anywhere else—perhaps even in the wildfire itself.
Meghan’s signature approach to public appearances was on full display, complete with overly familiar gestures, forced hugs, and an air of condescension that seemed to suggest, “Let me guide you, mere mortals.” Jennifer’s expressions ranged from confused to exasperated, silently asking, “What does she want us to do now?” Meanwhile, Prince Harry perfected his reluctant smile, a grimace that seemed to plead, “Why didn’t I just stay in Montecito?” His body language suggested exhaustion, not from the disaster but from the relentless PR machinery.
Historically, both royals and celebrities have opted to wait before visiting disaster zones to avoid disrupting relief efforts. Queen Elizabeth II, for instance, famously waited eight days before visiting Aberfan after the 1966 mining disaster, a decision praised for its sensitivity. In contrast, Meghan’s impatience for a perfectly timed photo opportunity couldn’t be more apparent. She rushes in while the fire is metaphorically and literally still burning, ensuring the images are fresh enough for a heartwarming Instagram post.
This stands in stark contrast to genuine celebrities and philanthropists who quietly donate time, money, and resources without orchestrating public displays. Their contributions are meaningful, sincere, and devoid of self-promotion. Meghan, on the other hand, seems focused on collecting material for holiday cards and charity-themed photo collages.
Prince Harry’s exasperation is almost tangible. One could imagine he’d rather be hiking barefoot through the Sahara than participating in these heavily staged appearances. His weariness contrasts sharply with Meghan’s beaming confidence, which suggests she believes she’s flawlessly executing her role as a humanitarian.
One cannot ignore Meghan’s pattern of behavior. Take, for example, her visit to Uvalde, Texas, less than 36 hours after the tragic school massacre. She posed for photos with volunteers, and those images were later sold to BuzzFeed. The LA wildfire visit feels like a repeat performance: show up, pose for carefully curated photos, and disappear.
As over 10,000 people grapple with displacement and loss, Meghan’s priority seems to be ensuring a polished group photo, complete with her trademark smile. The insincerity is palpable, and the lack of self-awareness is almost breathtaking. This isn’t just tone-deaf—it’s disheartening.
Ultimately, Meghan Markle’s ability to turn every tragedy into a personal PR opportunity remains unparalleled. While real helpers quietly and tirelessly work behind the scenes, she pushes herself front and center, ensuring her narrative dominates the headlines. The takeaway? Meghan and Harry’s visit to the evacuation center was less about help and more about headlines—a masterclass in what not to do during a crisis. But hey, at least Meghan got some fresh content for her Netflix trailer.
