Meghan Markle has once again embarked on a new business venture, adding another chapter to her ongoing journey of self-reinvention.
This time, she introduces American Riviera Orchard, a brand so elusive that it makes Bigfoot sightings seem commonplace. Despite its supposed grand launch a year ago, the brand has yet to produce a single product. However, the wait may soon be over—at least according to reports. Meghan’s long-anticipated jam is finally set to hit the shelves, though not in an upscale boutique or an exclusive online store with a carefully curated aesthetic. Instead, her big retail debut will take place at none other than Netflix House.
The streaming giant is testing the waters of brick-and-mortar retail, and Meghan’s jam, honey, and olive oil will have their moment of glory in two major shopping malls—King of Prussia in Philadelphia and the Dallas Galleria. Because nothing says luxury lifestyle quite like a jam display next to Netflix’s Squid Game merchandise.
Meghan’s past ventures include a podcast that was quietly axed after one season and a Netflix deal that appears to be hanging by a thread. Now, she’s betting it all on strawberry jam. However, a major issue remains—American Riviera Orchard doesn’t even have a trademark. Are they changing the name? If so, some alternative suggestions might include "Scam Jam," "Sweaty Strawberry," "Bully Blueberry," or even "Race-Baiting Raspberry." The options are endless. The latest branding direction seems to be centered around the phrase “With Love,” which suggests a future of “With Love” jam, “With Love” dog treats, and whatever else can be mass-produced and rebranded with a charming label. But this isn’t a handcrafted, royal-adjacent gourmet delicacy. Anyone envisioning Meghan personally stirring a pot of strawberries on a picturesque California farm should think again. The far more likely scenario is that she is sourcing generic, mass-produced jam, repackaging it, and marketing it as “bespoke.” This is one of the oldest tricks in the branding playbook, though usually, there’s at least an effort to maintain an illusion of authenticity.
Even King Charles, who has actual gardens at Highgrove House, sells jams and honey sourced from his own estate to fund charitable causes. Meghan, however, seems to cultivate nothing at her Montecito mansion other than PR crises. This latest business endeavor signals an astonishing career pivot. Once mingling with actual royalty, she is now attempting to sell jam in a shopping mall, competing with Swiss Colony cheese logs and those seasonal kiosks that peddle oversized popcorn tins. The supposed sophisticated lifestyle brand will be vying for attention in a retail space that also offers matching pajama sets for entire families—including their pets. And who even shops at malls anymore? Teenagers avoiding their parents, elderly walkers getting in their daily steps, and people hunting for an Auntie Anne’s pretzel. This is hardly the high-end empire Meghan’s PR team will make it out to be—it’s more akin to a QVC-style hustle but without a built-in audience to make purchases.
Beyond the jam itself, there’s a larger issue at play. Meghan’s five-year, $100 million Netflix deal is running out, and industry insiders suggest it won’t be renewed. If she wants to maintain any Hollywood relevance, she must prove she can sell something—anything. Netflix, perhaps out of amusement or contractual obligation, is giving her a kiosk to see if she can make it work. This is a test. If the “With Love” brand fails to gain traction, Netflix will quietly move on. If sales do pick up—most likely because Harry bulk-buys jars to maintain appearances—Meghan will receive a modest cut while Netflix takes the lion’s share of the profits.
If past trends are any indication, the trajectory of Meghan’s jam is predictable. It will begin with a wave of media hype, glowing press releases, and speculative articles about her new lifestyle empire. Then reality will set in. The overpriced, generic product will struggle to find buyers, leading to desperate discounts. The once-premium $30 jam jars will eventually appear on clearance shelves at TJ Maxx for $2.99. The final stop? Unsold inventory winding up at dollar stores and food banks. So, is this Meghan’s long-awaited breakthrough, or just another overhyped flop destined for the clearance aisle? Only time will tell.
