If cringe were a currency, Meghan Markle would be the Jeff Bezos of awkward self-promotion. In the latest installment of her ongoing campaign titled “Please Keep Looking at Me,” she took to the Instagram page of her ever-mysterious brand to wish herself and Prince Harry a happy anniversary.
The caption read, “Sometimes two is better than one. Wishing a very happy anniversary to our founder Meghan and her husband Prince Harry.” Let’s pause. She wrote this. She posted this. She is the “our.” Who else would even be operating this ghost-town of a brand? The long-disbanded PR team from 2020? It’s hard to call something a company when its leading products are confusion and poorly lit photos of questionable fashion choices.
Let’s dig into the glorious delusion. Referring to herself as “our founder” is comedy gold. The entire post is dressed up like it came from a bustling team when in reality, it’s more likely Meghan tapping away on her phone between rewatches of Suits. It’s the equivalent of signing your own birthday card and pretending to be surprised when you open it. Then there’s the photo: a Photoshopped fever dream featuring Meghan in what looks like either a mental patient’s robe or a DIY toga made from a Pottery Barn bed sheet. Prince Harry, meanwhile, lurks in the background like an understudy for a survival documentary. She shines in white, he fades in black—was the symbolism a conscious choice? Narcissism? Probably both.
The outfit, or perhaps tent, evokes a mood—specifically, the “wandering the grounds of a 19th-century estate after escaping from the sanatorium” vibe. At any moment, you expect a nurse to arrive with a tranquilizer. Meghan’s signature grip on Harry’s arm—the infamous claw—makes it look less like an anniversary snap and more like she’s physically preventing him from running for freedom. Harry doesn’t resemble a royal here so much as a weary hostage stuck in a rustic lifestyle brand photo shoot.
As for the caption, “Sometimes two is better than one,” one wonders if it’s a romantic nod or a cryptic hint that she’s now pretending to be two separate people managing one Instagram page. Is “Founder Meghan” speaking to “Influencer Meghan”? The lighting makes it painfully clear who should be noticed. Harry’s back is to the camera, echoing previous family photos where their children were similarly hidden—perhaps to ensure Meghan remains the center of attention. Heaven forbid a toddler upstage her.
The entire presentation feels like ghost-Diana cosplay colliding with a cult leader’s curated photo op. But what exactly is Meghan the “founder” of? A barely functioning website with a handful of jam jars and enough gauze and linen to mount a nativity play? She’s built a fantasy—a whimsical influencer mirage lit by fairy lights and filtered through soft-focus dreams. And can we stop pretending there’s a social media team involved? Meghan herself once admitted in an interview with Jamie Kern Lima that she writes her own captions.
In the end, this latest post is the PR equivalent of scribbling “Have a great summer” in your own yearbook. Meghan remains the star of her solo performance, and that flowing dress? Let’s just say Halloween arrived ahead of schedule. As for Harry—someone please check on him. Blink twice, dear Duke, if you’re trapped inside a lifestyle catalog that forgot how to be real.
