In a twist that reeks of breathtaking hypocrisy, Meghan Markle continues to grip her Duchess of Sussex title like a lifeline, even as she repeatedly accused the very institution that bestowed it of racism, trauma, and near-fatal emotional harm. Years after bombshell claims in her Oprah interview — where she alleged concerns over her son Archie’s skin color and said the royal family drove her to suicidal thoughts — the former actress-turned-lifestyle-entrepreneur still insists on being announced as “Duchess of Sussex” in private homes and public settings alike. But karma, it seems, has a sharp sense of irony: her much-hyped **As Ever** jam and lifestyle brand is crumbling under the weight of massive unsold inventory, overstock giveaways, and public mockery, proving that ditching the monarchy’s constraints didn’t translate to commercial gold.
The contradiction couldn’t be starker. Back in 2021, Meghan told the world the royals harbored racist “concerns” about how dark her child’s skin might be, painting the Palace as an institution riddled with bias and cruelty. She described feeling silenced, unsupported, and pushed to the brink. Fast-forward to 2025 and 2026: despite stepping back from royal duties in 2020 and relocating to Montecito, Meghan clings fiercely to the very title she once implied was tainted by that same toxic environment. Royal experts have called it out bluntly — one commentator described her insistence on the formal announcement of “Meghan, Duchess of Sussex” (even in a room with just an interviewer and house manager) as “hilariously egotistical and breathtakingly hypocritical.” Another expert noted she’s “clinging” to the prestige because it still “gives her a sense of importance” and fuels her business ventures in the U.S., where the royal halo opens doors that pure celebrity status alone can’t.
Yet that borrowed prestige hasn’t saved her from a string of professional setbacks. Enter **As Ever** (formerly American Riviera Orchard), Meghan’s bid to become the next Goop-style lifestyle mogul with curated jams, honey, candles, edible flower sprinkles, and wine. Launched amid Netflix tie-ins and promises of “elevated” everyday luxury, the brand generated initial buzz with quick sell-outs hyped as massive success. Meghan even claimed on podcasts that products were “flying off the shelves,” with nearly a million jars of jam supposedly moved. But reality hit hard: a website glitch in early 2026 exposed staggering unsold numbers — around 220,000 jars of jam, 30,000 jars of honey, 90,000 candles, 80,000 tins of sprinkles, and roughly 70,000 bottles of wine still sitting in inventory. Sources close to the situation revealed the excess stock overflowing into storage at Netflix HQ, where employees were reportedly walking out with free armloads — one staffer allegedly grabbing **10 items** at once — turning what was meant to be a premium empire into corporate swag.
The optics are devastating. Perishables like jam don’t age gracefully, and with no repeat mega-orders, the overproduction has led to whispers of rotting goods, quality complaints, and returns. Critics point to the pattern: Meghan’s ventures often rely on the royal connection she publicly disavowed, yet when that halo fades, the market response is underwhelming. Her Netflix partnership, once a nine-figure lifeline, has cooled — no renewal on the first-look deal, lukewarm viewership for *With Love, Meghan*, and now her branded products literally given away at the streamer’s headquarters. Social media piles on relentlessly, with users branding it “the ultimate flop” and joking that Netflix staff are the only ones tasting any “success” from As Ever.
This isn’t just bad business; it’s poetic justice, according to detractors. Meghan walked away from an institution she accused of racism and trauma, yet she won’t let go of the title it granted her — using it to prop up everything from brand announcements to personal introductions. Now, as her jam empire sticks in the shelves instead of spreading joy, the narrative flips: the prestige she desperately holds onto couldn’t shield her from commercial reality. Royal watchers note the irony — Prince William could one day strip the Sussex titles entirely once he ascends, but for now, Meghan’s frantic use of “Duchess” appears to be an attempt to imprint that royal cachet before it’s gone for good.
The saga underscores a deeper truth: you can’t trash the monarchy as backward and racist while milking its remnants for personal gain and expect it all to work seamlessly. Karma didn’t need a dramatic intervention — it simply let the market do the talking. Meghan’s As Ever may have been intended as her triumphant rebrand, but instead, it’s become a sticky symbol of overambition, hypocrisy, and the limits of borrowed royalty in a world that demands real substance over titles.
As the unsold jars gather dust and the freebies clear space at Netflix, one lesson stands out: clinging to a crown you once condemned comes with a price — and right now, that price tastes a lot like unsold jam. 🍓👑
