Meghan Markle has explored every possible avenue of self-reinvention, yet she’s back again with another business venture—one that seems as destined for success as everything else she’s launched.
Enter American Riviera Orchard, a brand so elusive that Bigfoot sightings seem commonplace in comparison. Announced with great fanfare over a year ago, Meghan’s lifestyle brand has yet to release a single product. However, reports suggest that her long-awaited jam is finally set to hit the shelves—allegedly. But don’t expect to find it in an upscale boutique or even a meticulously curated online store. Instead, Meghan’s big retail debut will take place in none other than Netflix House.
Yes, the streaming giant is venturing into brick-and-mortar retail, and Meghan’s jam, along with honey and olive oil, will have their moment in two massive shopping malls—King of Prussia in Philadelphia and the Dallas Galleria. Because nothing says high-end luxury quite like a makeshift jam stand positioned next to Squid Game merchandise. Meghan, whose previous ventures include a short-lived podcast and a Netflix deal reportedly hanging by a thread, is now placing her bets on strawberry jam.
Here’s where things get even murkier—American Riviera Orchard doesn’t even have a registered trademark. So what will the jam be called? Perhaps "Scam Jam," "Sweaty Strawberry," "Bully Blueberry," or "Race-Baiting Raspberry"? The possibilities are endless. The brand’s supposed new direction is all about love—so expect labels featuring phrases like “With Love” on jam jars, dog biscuits, and whatever else can be mass-produced and slapped with a logo. But let’s not be fooled into thinking this is some exclusive, handcrafted, royal-adjacent gourmet spread. If you’re picturing Meghan personally stirring a copper pot of strawberries on an idyllic Californian farm, it’s time to reset expectations. The reality is far more mundane—mass-produced jam with a rebranded label, masquerading as something bespoke.
Even King Charles, who actually grows produce at Highgrove House, sells jams and honey from his own estate to support charitable causes. Meanwhile, Meghan’s Montecito mansion doesn’t appear to be cultivating anything beyond PR crises. The irony of this business move is staggering. Once, Meghan was rubbing elbows with actual royalty. Now, she’s peddling jam in a shopping mall, competing with Swiss Colony cheese logs and kiosks selling popcorn tins. Nothing screams refined lifestyle quite like setting up shop next to a store that sells matching pajamas for entire families—including their pets.
And who even shops at malls anymore? Teenagers dodging their parents, elderly folks getting their daily steps in, and people on a mission to find an Auntie Anne’s pretzel. This isn’t the grand empire-building move Meghan’s PR team will try to spin it as. This is QVC-level sales desperation—minus the built-in audience that actually buys things.
Beyond the questionable business strategy, there’s an even bigger issue at play. Meghan’s $100 million Netflix deal is approaching its expiration, and insiders claim it won’t be renewed. The only way to salvage her Hollywood relevance is to prove she can sell something—anything. In what seems like either a last-ditch effort or a contractual obligation, Netflix is giving her a mall kiosk to see if she can pull it off. If “With Love” becomes a hit, Meghan might have a chance to extend her partnership. If not, Netflix will quietly walk away.
Even if some jars do sell—likely because Harry bulk-purchases them to keep up appearances—the profits will mostly go to Netflix, leaving Meghan with a small cut. And if history is any guide, these jam jars will follow the standard Meghan Markle product cycle: initial hype, glowing PR articles, breathless media speculation about her “budding empire,” reality sinking in, low sales, desperate discounts, and eventually, $30 jam jars appearing at TJ Maxx for $2.99. The final destination? The last unsold jars collecting dust at a dollar store or, perhaps, donated to a food bank.
So, is this Meghan’s big break or just another overhyped flop destined to be forgotten? We’ll check back when those jars hit the clearance aisle.
