Meghan Markle is reportedly seething in her Montecito mansion, clutching a cup of organic, ethically sourced chamomile tea, as the world dares to question the brilliance of her latest endeavor, With Love, Meghan.
Vogue Williams, the Irish TV and radio host with actual royal family ties, has joined the growing list of people who aren’t entirely convinced by Meghan’s domestic goddess persona. Vogue, whose husband is the brother-in-law of Pippa Middleton, shared her thoughts on her podcast, My Therapist Ghosted Me. She seemed perplexed by Meghan’s carefully curated parenting aesthetic, particularly the now-infamous rainbow fruit platter. “I saw a bit where she was making her kids this rainbow display of fruit,” she remarked, clearly baffled. “I mean, I thought I was doing well by mixing Rice Krispies and Cheerios—like, two cereals in one. And then there she is, arranging fruit like it’s a work of art. Did you see that rainbow platter? Who does that?”
And that’s the question—who really has the time to meticulously organize strawberries, blueberries, and mango slices into a color-coordinated masterpiece when most parents are just trying to prevent their toddlers from shoving crayons up their noses? But the scrutiny didn’t stop at fruit salads. Vogue and her co-host, Joanne McNally, took issue with Meghan’s fashion choices, particularly her tendency to drape a sweater over her shoulders in a way that screams “yacht club brunch enthusiast.” McNally admitted, “I can’t stand a jumper over the shoulders.” Vogue quickly agreed, responding with an emphatic, “Yeah, it’s disgusting.”
If that wasn’t enough, comedian Whitney Cummings—who, like Meghan, has a Netflix show but with a presumably funnier approach—suggested that With Love, Meghan isn’t a heartfelt docuseries but rather an intricately veiled, passive-aggressive Instagram post aimed squarely at Buckingham Palace. “This has nothing to do with making a good show,” Whitney stated. “It’s just her subtly roasting the royal family. This isn’t for us. This is for, like, 30 people in that castle.”
According to Whitney, Meghan’s cottagecore aesthetic—complete with homemade jam and sun-steeped tea—is less about lifestyle and more about sending a not-so-subtle message to King Charles, who just so happens to have his own line of royal preserves. Meghan’s insistence on making “preserves, not jam” is apparently a deliberate jab, a way of signaling that royal jam is just too sweet for her refined tastes.
And then there’s the tea—both figuratively and literally. Whitney pointed out that Meghan’s casual attitude toward tea-making feels like a cultural slight. “Making tea isn’t a big deal. You just put it outside and let it steep in the sun. It’s not fancy.” But in Britain, where tea is practically sacred, that statement might as well be treasonous.
Even Meghan’s barefoot moments have come under fire. Whitney argued that this isn’t just casual comfort but a symbolic act. “She’s making a point to be barefoot—like, ‘I don’t bind my feet the way they do in the royal family.’” Because, apparently, nothing screams rebellion quite like toes in the grass.
Ultimately, With Love, Meghan isn’t being received as a heartwarming reflection on life and family but as a meticulously crafted spectacle, designed with precision and purpose. Every avocado toast, every perfectly tousled curl, every delicate sip of tea—critics argue that it’s all part of a grand, passive-aggressive performance piece aimed at the House of Windsor.
Meanwhile, somewhere in Montecito, Meghan is likely pacing her candle-scented, feng shui-approved living room, shaking her head in disbelief that the world simply doesn’t get it.
