Wallis Simpson seems like an entirely shady person, but from time to time I find myself thinking about the strange contours of her life, which changed the course of British royal history nearly a century ago.
A divorced American on her second marriage, she takes up with the king of England, who falls so stupidly in love with her that when she gives up her current husband, he gives up the throne. It’s a thrilling love story that quickly becomes a tricky problem because frankly, there’s not a lot of protocol for ex-royalty. The first solution is France, but then there are rumors that the newlyweds are, uh, kind of Nazi-ish, so any new strategy requires getting them as far as possible from World War II. The next stop is the pre-air-conditioning Bahamas, where Edward is appointed governor, and Wallis volunteers at a clinic and, in photos, always looks as though this isn’t quite what she signed up for.
“You have no idea how hard it is to live out a great romance,” she is rumored to have said, and if the quote is accurate, it’s a pretty astute insight into what it’s like to spend your life convincing everyone, including yourself, that chucking it all for love was totally worth it.
But what if — hear me out — she had started a cooking show?
Wednesday marks the premiere of “With Love, Meghan: Holiday Celebration,” a one-hour Netflix special that continues the Duchess of Sussex’s (Miss Markle if you’re nasty) experiment with aggressive hospitality. I did not review the first two seasons of “With Love, Meghan,” and to start now seems unsporting, like showing up to a deer hunt after the animal is already dead and butchered just so you can point to the plates of venison and say, lol, Bambi, sucks to be you.
But just as a quick recap, for the uninitiated: Each episode of “With Love, Meghan” features Prince Harry’s wife welcoming a semi-famous guest by telling them it’s craft time. Sometimes that’s making rainbows out of kiwi and bananas, sometimes it’s using a lime as a stamp; apparently, there comes an age for all of us when, “in pursuit of joy,” we must take up bookbinding and dry our own fruit leather. The people who walk into Meghan’s cottage are supposedly her friends, but many behave as though they’ve just had a burlap sack pulled off their heads and learned: Bad news, the kidnapping wasn’t a dream; good news, if you just make some lavender syrup with this woman, she’ll let you go.
Also, yes, in addition to starring in “With Love,” Meghan does have a fancy jam company called “As Ever.” Also, no, I do not understand why she is operating two businesses under two different farewells.
“Holiday Celebration” is several guests condensed into one episode. We’re assembling crackers with restaurateur Will Guidara. We’re painting cookie plates with tennis champ Naomi Osaka. We’re making homemade wreaths. “It’s not a competition!” she tells the childhood friends who have been outfitted in matching pajamas and given a pile of branches. Don’t fall for this, ladies, it’s obviously a competition, and the duchess has a glue gun.
The word that keeps coming to mind is “effortful.” Meghan cannot just casually hand Guidara a delicious homemade cheese puff; instead she has to tell him that she secretly telephoned his wife to learn that he loves cacio e pepe, so that’s what inspired the puffs, which she made herself, just for him, can he taste the pepe? SHE MADE THEM.
Also, yes, I would give my right boob to be a guest for a few days in that cottage; I bet it smells like a festive magical potion made from cloves and Catherine, Princess of Wales’s pilfered eyelashes. I bet the furniture feels like sitting on the lap of the jolliest Santa, and that Meghan, in person, is absolutely lovely. The narrative I have created in my head is that she and I share the same awkward affliction of wanting very much — too much — to show we were paying attention in class, and that this trait outwardly looks like a combo of needy and egomaniacal.
Still, what is she doing here? Eight years ago we exported Meghan, a divorced American, to marry a prince who was at the time the world’s most eligible bachelor. When she showed up on television screens with the royal family, savvy and fashionable as all giddyap, her presence made it clear how dowdy the rest of them were. How out of step. Meghan had a degree in international studies from Northwestern, a successful television career, and a multicultural background that more closely resembled Britain’s growing demographics than the inbred background of these bucktoothed Buckingham residents. It truly looked as though she might pull it off, saving this shambling dynasty from itself.
But one thing led to another — the paparazzi, the tabloid whispers, the in-laws — and soon Harry found himself where his great-great-uncle found himself nearly a century ago: giving up his official place in the royal family so that he could make a happy life with the woman he loved.
As in all marriages, the credit for joint decisions lies on both spouses’ shoulders, but only one of them had previously lived in California, so you have to imagine she was the one constructing the vision board. We’ll grow lemon trees and Netflix specials, Harry. I’ll introduce you to Oprah and Roy Choi.
I would wager that “With Love, Meghan” is not exactly the future that she imagined. And mostly, I would speculate that this is because her repatriated future would have been unimaginable to anyone. If some other former actress segued into this kind of chatty lifestyle guru, it would make sense. Drew Barrymore — sure. Jessica Alba — I buy her bubble bath! Gwyneth Paltrow clawed her way through mockery and turned Goop into an empire.
But once you have used the royal family’s private loos at Kensington Palace, it’s hard to know where you fit into American society. It would be weird for her to suddenly show up on USA Network dramedy again. What, she’s going to go back to being a suitcase girl on “Deal or No Deal”?
“With Love, Meghan” is probably a pretty good fit, but no matter how genuinely Meghan tries to come across on screen, I felt irritable toward her. Either her advice felt so basic as to be condescending (Yes, Meghan, even we peasants understand to hang ornaments so they catch the light), or so elevated as to be out of touch (Babe, I work full time and clean my own toilet; I don’t have time to make my family members personalized Advent calendars), and always delivered with a level of chipper that nobody with children younger than 8 should be able to relate to.
Toward the end of the episode, Harry lumbers into the kitchen, his first appearance of the special, to try some of the dinner Meghan has just prepared with chef Tom Colicchio, and Meghan tells us — this is so hilarious, guys — that Chef Tom’s salad of beets, olives and pickled vegetables is composed entirely of ingredients that Harry hates. That she loves those things, but, you know, when you’re married you sometimes give up on foods just because your spouse won’t eat them. The man won’t eat anything! Haha. Hahaha.
Meghan shows us a new way to wrap presents. Meghan writes labels, beautifully. Who knows where Meghan might have been if she had never gotten entangled with the royal family.
There they are, living out their great romance, and England is thousands of miles away, and the Bahamas are no longer an option, and there are decades left to go.
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