So now, Meghan Markle: former actress, former royal, and current what exactly? Well, it seems she’s trying to add culinary queen to her ever-growing list of titles. But here’s the kicker, folks: Netflix isn’t buying what she’s serving, and they’re about as patient as a hungry toddler at dinner time.
Now, let’s rewind a bit. Back in 2020, when the world was falling apart and we were all learning how to bake banana bread, Harry and Meghan decided to sign a little deal with Netflix. And by little, I mean a whopping 100 million pound deal. That’s more dough than a bakery on National Pie Day. Fast forward to now, and Netflix is starting to look at the Sussexes like that gym membership you swore you’d use but haven’t touched in years. They’re thinking, “Hey, we’ve invested in you, where’s our return? Where’s the beef?”
Let me tell you, folks, the pressure is on. It’s like Meghan’s back in acting school, except this time the audience is the entire Netflix board, and they’re not exactly giving standing ovations. According to PR guru Ann Block, this show is too important to fail. Now, I don’t know about you, but when I hear something’s too important to fail, that usually means it’s headed for a crash landing faster than a skydiver without a parachute. Block says, and I quote, “All eyes will be on Meghan’s new show delivering big numbers for Netflix.” All eyes? More like all knives out, am I right? It’s like the streaming world’s version of The Hunger Games, and Meghan’s up against some fierce competition.
Now, let’s talk about this cooking show for a hot second. Meghan Markle cooking? It’s like watching a fish try to climb a tree. Sure, it might be entertaining, but is it really what we’re here for? I mean, did anyone watch Suits and think, “Gee, I bet she makes a mean casserole”? But here’s the real tea, folks: this isn’t just about cooking. Oh no, this is about Meghan trying to rebrand herself faster than a chameleon on a disco dance floor. She’s gone from actress to duchess to what, the Martha Stewart of Montecito?
And let’s not forget about our boy Harry in all this. He’s probably off in the corner wondering how he went from flying helicopters to being the royal version of a boom mic operator for his wife’s cooking show. Talk about a career change.
But here’s where it gets really juicy. Netflix is acutely aware of the fierce competition in the cooking and home space. Translation: they know Meghan’s up against the big leagues. We’re talking Gordon Ramsay, Ina Garten, heck, even Snoop Dogg has a cooking show. And what’s Meghan bringing to the table? Royalty and crumpets. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for people reinventing themselves, but there’s reinvention and then there’s whatever this is. It’s like watching a giraffe try to disguise itself as a house plant. Sure, it’s trying its best, but we can all see what’s really going on here.
And let’s talk about the timing for a second. This show is coming off the back of Harry’s “Spare” backlash. Oh boy, talk about bad timing. It’s like trying to sell ice cream in a snowstorm. Harry’s book left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, and now Meghan’s trying to cleanse our palates with organic kale smoothies and free-range chicken.
But here’s the real kicker, folks: this show isn’t just about cooking. Oh no, it’s about celebrating the joys of cooking, gardening, and entertainment of friendship. Friendship? I’m sorry, but last time I checked, Meghan’s friends list was shorter than a grocery list during a famine. Who’s she going to invite over, the mailman?
And let’s not forget this is all tied to Meghan’s new lifestyle brand, American Riviera Orchard, because apparently what the world really needs right now is another celebrity lifestyle brand. Move over, Gwyneth Paltrow, there’s a new Goop in town.
But here’s the thing that really gets my goat. Meghan and Harry left the royal family because they wanted privacy, right? They wanted to escape the constant scrutiny and live a normal life. But since they’ve been in America, they’ve been about as private as a Kardashian at a red carpet event. They’re out here making Netflix deals, writing tell-all books, and now cooking shows. It’s like they’ve got a severe case of spotlight withdrawal. They just can’t help themselves.
And you know what the saddest part is? The whole mess could have been avoided if they just stuck to what they’re good at. Harry could be off doing his Invictus Games, making real differences in people’s lives. Meghan could be using her platform to advocate for causes she believes in. But no, instead they’re going to be the Chip and Joanna Gaines of the royal world.
But let’s be real for a second. This isn’t just about a cooking show. This is about Meghan and Harry’s entire brand. They’re trying to sell us this image of themselves as relatable, down-to-earth people who just happen to have royal titles. But here’s the thing: we’re not buying it. We’ve seen behind the curtain, folks. We’ve heard the tales of private jet flights and multi-million dollar homes. We’ve read all the tell-all books and watched the Netflix documentaries. And you know what? It’s getting old. The public is tired of the constant victimhood narrative. We’re tired of the hypocrisy of preaching about privacy while constantly thrusting themselves into the spotlight. We’re tired of the lectures about climate change from people who use private jets like they’re Ubers.
And now Netflix is tired too. They’re looking at Harry and Meghan like a bad investment, like that cryptocurrency your cousin convinced you to buy that’s now worth less than Monopoly money. But here’s the real question: what happens if this show flops? What if Meghan’s culinary skills are about as impressive as a soggy piece of toast? What if the viewing figures are lower than the approval ratings for a politician caught in a scandal? Well, folks, I hate to say it, but this could be the beginning of the end for the Sussex brand. Netflix isn’t going to keep throwing good money after bad. They’re not a charity; they’re a business. And if Harry and Meghan can’t deliver the goods, they’ll be out faster than you can say “fired.”
And then what? Will they finally retreat to that private life they claim they want so badly? Will they find another platform to air their grievances? Or will they finally realize that maybe they had it pretty good in the royal family after all? Only time will tell, my friends. But one thing’s for sure: this cooking show is Meghan’s last chance to prove she’s more than just a former royal with a grudge. It’s her opportunity to show the world she’s got something to offer beyond drama and controversy.
But here’s my prediction: the show’s going to be about as successful as a chocolate teapot. It’s going to be all style and no substance, like a beautifully decorated cake that tastes like cardboard. Because here’s the thing, folks: Meghan Markle isn’t a chef. She’s not a lifestyle guru. She’s an actress who married a prince and is now trying to convince us she’s something she’s not. And in the cutthroat world of streaming content, that’s just not going to cut it. Netflix doesn’t want authenticity; they don’t want real. They want ratings. They want shows that people will binge-watch until their eyes bleed. And I’m sorry, but I don’t see people staying up all night to watch Meghan Markle make avocado toast.
So what’s the takeaway from all this? Well, for one, it’s a reminder that fame is a fickle friend. One day you’re the toast of the town, and the next you’re yesterday’s news. Harry and Meghan had it all: the titles, the privilege, the adoration of millions, and they traded it all for what exactly? A chance to be B-list celebrities in a country that kicked out the monarchy centuries ago.
But more than that, it’s a cautionary tale about the dangers of believing your own hype. Harry and Meghan seem to think they can waltz into any arena, be it entertainment, politics, or now cooking, and immediately be taken seriously. But the world doesn’t work that way, folks. You can’t just declare yourself an expert on something and expect everyone to fall in line.
So what should they do? Well, if I were their PR manager, and thank the Lord I’m not because that job’s got to be more stressful than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, I’d tell them to go back to the basics. Focus on the things they’re actually good at. Use their platform for good, not for self-promotion.
But will they listen? Probably not. They’re too far down the rabbit hole of celebrity and self-importance. They’re like Alice in Wonderland, except instead of chasing a white rabbit, they’re chasing relevance. So buckle up, folks. This cooking show is going to be one wild ride. It’s going to be a masterclass in what happens when ego meets reality TV. It’s going to be a train wreck, and we’re all going to watch it happen in real time.
But you know what? Maybe that’s exactly what Harry and Meghan need. Maybe they need to crash and burn spectacularly before they can rise from the ashes and become something genuinely worthwhile. Or maybe they’ll just fade into obscurity, joining the ranks of countless other forgotten celebrities. Either way, I’ll be here, ready to serve up hot takes and spicy commentary. Because in the world of celebrity, the drama never stops cooking, and this, my friends, is a recipe for disaster that’s too delicious to ignore.
So there you have it, folks. The saga of Meghan Markle, the duchess who would be queen of the kitchen. It’s a tale of ambition, delusion, and a whole lot of chutzpah. Will she rise like a perfect soufflé or fall flat like a failed pancake? Only time will tell. Until then, stay tuned for more shocking stories and scandalous exposés on our YouTube channel. Remember to like, share, and subscribe to stay updated on the latest from the world of the royal family. Thanks for watching. We’ll see you again with some more fascinating news about the royal family. Bye for now.
