Photo: As Ever
Well before Meghan Markle’s As Ever products launched on April 2, it was clear that confusion was at the heart of her brand. Shouldn’t her jams and teas have gone on sale when her Netflix show launched a month ago? Why is the show called With Love, Meghan while the home-goods line is named after a different sign-off phrase? Should that name be styled “As Ever” or “As ever”? And who, exactly, is Meghan? An expert homemaker graciously sharing her recipe for homemade dog biscuits or a novice eager to learn from her celebrity friends? Real-life fairy-tale princess (okay, duchess) or chill-yet-stylish California girl espousing the joys of Jack in the Box?
I had hoped that the As Ever launch might provide some clarity. Instead, I realized that in addition to being confused about what her whole deal is, Meghan has no idea who I am.
There’s one thing Meghan does get right about me: I’m a lady who’s highly susceptible to the suggestion that I should slather everything in slightly overpriced raspberry jam. As Ever’s initial collection includes eight products: three teas, honey, raspberry spread, shortbread cookie mix, crêpe mix, and “flower sprinkles.” Each costs a few dollars more than an equivalent product you’d find in Whole Foods; for example, the teas are $12 for 12 sachets and the jam is $9, or $14 if you go for the “keepsake packaging.” But these aren’t outrageous Goop-esque prices.
I can’t speak to the quality of the products or the ordering process, as everything sold out in an hour on Wednesday morning. While that seems like a sign of success, we have no way of knowing if As Ever has sold 50 or 5,000 packages of shortbread-cookie mix.
So all I could do on launch day was peruse the newly unveiled product information and read a new New York Times profile that takes us “Inside Meghan’s Real Kitchen” (as opposed to the fake one where she filmed the Netflix show). This journey through the Meghan Markle lifestyle brand brought on a mild existential crisis.
Each product page includes an item description and several of Meghan’s “Tips for Enjoyment.” These ping-ponged between insultingly basic and depressingly out of reach. For example, here are Meghan’s ideas for enjoying her “Herbal Peppermint Tea”:
Meghan felt the need to explain (twice!) that tea is prepared by steeping bags in hot water, resulting in a flavorful beverage that can be enjoyed at midday or by a fire. It felt a tad insulting.
But here are the tips for the “Herbal Hibiscus Tea”:
This had me reeling. Am I doing enough to create “childhood memories of wonder” for my family? How exactly do I cook down hibiscus tea into a simple syrup? Am I supposed to be hosting virtual happy hours for co-workers I mainly interact with on Slack? Should my loved ones be using clear glass water bottles so they can see the hibiscus-tea ice cubes I lovingly brew, freeze, and add to their drinks each day for a “pop of color”?
Next, I turned to the Times piece for some clarification on whether Meghan wants me to relate to her or aspire to be her. At first it seemed like the former, as she declared that Kraft cheese and Wonder bread make the “best after-school snack”:
As a self-described latchkey kid, whose parents were divorced, Meghan loved to pick up fast food — Jack in the Box curly fries were a favorite — and go home to watch back-to-back cooking shows on Food Network. “Or I’d go to Grandma Jeanette’s after school,” she said. “She made the best after-school snack: Kraft grilled cheese on white Wonder bread,” Meghan recalled, dreamily. “All that butter.”
Yet the As Ever website suggests that after a long school day children should be greeted with freshly made crêpes:
Maybe this is all for Prince Harry’s benefit? The Times reports that when he’s out, Meghan’s kids are mainly eating food handcrafted by the good folks at Tyson and Ore-Ida:
When it’s just her and the kids for dinner, she said, she often relies on chicken nuggets, veggie burgers and Tater Tots (the freezer is stuffed with them).
It’s unclear if Meghan tosses “flower sprinkles” on those tots, or if they’re more of a breakfast garnish:
By the time I got to the end of the Times piece, I felt like I was annoying Meghan. Don’t I understand her journey from super-relatable mildly famous person to literal royal who is still very relatable?!
But she is clearly bothered by accusations that she is unrelatable and out of touch. She may be living a fairy tale, but not all that long ago, she was a not-very-famous actress on a medium-popular TV series. She was divorced, in her mid-30s and unsure where her next job or home would be.
“Don’t they know my life hasn’t always been like this?” she said, gesturing at the sweeping views and sleeping dogs.
I’ve consumed a lot of Martha Stewart content and tons of amateur cooking videos on TikTok. I’m fine either way, I just need the Duchess to tell me what she’s going for. When Martha tells me I can make a soufflé as perfect as hers, we both know it’s just a fantasy, and that’s okay. If Meghan truly believes I can replicate her lifestyle because we’re both normal 40-something working women with slightly above-average crafting skills, that’s fine too. What’s stressing me out is Meghan wavering between acting like I’ve never made tea and assuming I regularly throw together Champagne-honey vinaigrette for my ladies’ lunches:
Perhaps it’s not fair to expect Meghan Markle to have a consistent brand identity. Some days I eat fresh-baked muffins with fancy jams, but most mornings I cook my breakfast in the microwave. Hey, maybe “flower sprinkles” would make my Jimmy Dean Delights frozen egg sandwich more joyful! Don’t put me or Meghan in a box! Unless, as Meghan recommended earlier this week, you’re using her jam’s “keepsake packaging” as a “time capsule” to “remember this pivotal moment with me.” For $14, that jam box better contain multitudes.
