Meghan Markle is unveiling her newest venture, and in true fashion, it's already stirring up a whirlwind of behind-the-scenes chaos.
The latest project, a lifestyle brand aiming to blend luxury with domestic charm, has left Netflix staff—those tasked with bringing it to life—feeling burned out before a single jar of fruit spread has even reached the shelves. According to an insider who spilled the details to MailOnline, the launch has been plagued by logistical nightmares. The brand’s name, originally “American Riviera Orchard,” was abruptly changed at the last minute, setting off confusion. Even more concerning, there seems to be little clarity on whether there's actual demand for Meghan’s high-end pantry offerings.
The brand's debut lineup includes groundbreaking, never-before-seen-in-history items like fruit spread, honey, herbal tea, and baking mix—products that are hardly revolutionary. Yet for Meghan, this marks another attempt to cement her image as the queen of aspirational living. Despite the glossy rollout, those working behind the scenes are reportedly drained by the ongoing melodrama tied to Meghan and Harry. Netflix, which somehow thought linking its name to this ever-growing spectacle was a good idea, plans to sell the products in two major U.S. malls later this year.
Behind the curated Instagram posts and influencer-backed buzz, a frustrated team is left questioning whether anyone is actually clamoring for a $15 jar of flower sprinkles. One weary insider confessed that the drama surrounding the Sussexes has left the team checked out before the brand has even hit the market. To make matters worse, the entire production has been cloaked in secrecy. Staff were reportedly forced to sign non-disclosure agreements just to keep the origins of Meghan's artisanal goods under wraps. Nothing says luxury quite like a product that’s so secretive, you’re not allowed to know where it comes from.
The level of opacity has left even the most tolerant employees baffled. After all, if the source of your product is such a liability that you must silence the staff, maybe it shouldn’t be sold in the first place. And the confusion doesn’t stop there. Even the branding team appears unclear on what exactly they’re offering. One moment it’s fruit spread, the next it’s jam. A quick tip for the marketing department: high sugar and low fruit content disqualifies it from being called jam. Yes, the distinction matters—especially when consumers are expected to pay a premium for what seems suspiciously like a glorified grocery store item.
As for the sales strategy, it appears to consist mainly of inflating the price tag and handing out free jars to an army of influencers who will flood social media with carefully curated praise. Because nothing screams authentic enthusiasm like celebrities being paid to post glowing reviews of something they received for free. One thing is clear: the Netflix staff involved in this project are already over it—and honestly, who can blame them?
