Just when it seemed like as ever might become the most unexpected comeback brand of the century—complete with artisan jams, £20 honey, and sprinkles carrying the emotional weight of a Lifetime movie—Meghan Markle pulled a move so textbook it could be titled Keeping Up with the Influencers.
In a moment of influencer autopilot, Kris Jenner casually revealed what many already suspected: as ever wasn’t a sell-out sensation; it was a curated illusion. Meghan launched her lifestyle brand with the kind of poetic flair usually reserved for royal births or exclusive streaming deals. She took to Instagram, announcing, “We’re live. Come shop the as ever collection I’ve poured so much love into.” In real terms, that love amounted to overseeing the packing of six jars of jam into aesthetically pleasing boxes, assigning them a £10.82 price tag, and whispering “limited quantities” into the algorithm. Minutes later, everything was allegedly sold out. But not because demand was overwhelming—instead, because there was barely anything to buy.
Hopeful shoppers flocked to the website, dreaming of raspberry jam and Instagrammable crepe mix, only to find virtual shelves already bare. “Gone already?” they asked. “Yes,” responded the algorithm. But not to worry—Kris Jenner’s refrigerator was full. That’s where the illusion began to crack. Kris gleefully shared her as ever PR haul on Instagram as if she’d stumbled upon a rare artisan tequila. And it wasn’t just her—Zoe Saldaña joined in, too. Post after post revealed curated boxes of shortbread cookie mix, honey, tea, and even decorative sprinkles—a display worthy of a Kardashian pantry.
The truth was clear: as ever didn’t sell out in the traditional sense. It was gifted to celebrities, influencers, and those with blue checkmarks and designer kitchen islands. Meanwhile, the everyday fan was left refreshing a website that was never meant to work. It was all smoke and mirrors. Insiders suggested the sold-out status came from listing a minuscule batch online—if any at all. In PR speak, that’s known as manufacturing buzz. To the rest of us, it’s just called faking it.
What made it worse was the sheer audacity. Meghan—ever positioned as the underdog, albeit in a $14 million mansion—didn’t even attempt to cater to ordinary buyers. Her most loyal supporters got shut out while the millionaire class received freebies. As ever supposedly stands for conscious living and seasonal drops, which in practice means, “I made a dozen jars of jam in a pastel kitchen, called it a movement, and sent it to my celebrity group chat.”
While Meghan tries to play the part of the next Martha Markle, we’re expected to believe this is a serious business venture. But there are no customers, no actual product, and not much of a plan. So what did Kris Jenner truly reveal? In her attempt to look effortlessly chic, she inadvertently exposed the truth about as ever: a brand more focused on optics than authenticity, more invested in PR than product, and more concerned with influence than inventory.
At its core, Meghan’s brand isn’t about jam, honey, or crepes—it’s about projecting a lifestyle. One that’s only accessible if you’re rich, famous, or happy to post about it for free. Because as ever, it’s just carefully curated smoke, decorative mirrors, and no jam for the people.
