Meghan Markle missed yet another royal event, and somewhere in California, she’s likely whispering affirmations to her vision board and brainstorming her next dramatic Netflix special, possibly titled Dirt: The Untold Story.
These days, she seems to consider herself an authority on everything, even soil. Meanwhile, the real royals were busy doing what they do best—radiating elegance and poise—leaving Meghan behind in their perfectly tailored wake.
Catherine, the Princess of Wales, arrived looking like a beam of sunlight in her re-worn yellow Emilia Wickstead dress. Yes, re-worn, because being relatable isn’t just fashionable—it’s a mastered art, and Catherine wears it with grace. Topped with a Philip Treacy hat, she was the epitome of royal charm at a garden party held at Buckingham Palace, an event where dignity and tradition quietly stole the show.
But it wasn’t just style Catherine delivered. She brought compassion too, inviting the grieving parents of Lizzy Hatton, a teenage photography talent who tragically lost her life to a rare cancer. That’s what true class looks like—not performative, not rehearsed, just heartfelt.
Across the Atlantic, Meghan may be brooding over misunderstood artistic expressions and failed metaphors involving chicken coops, while the royal family continues their legacy, one understated yet powerful appearance at a time. This garden party wasn’t merely about floral arrangements and refined tea—it was a quiet assertion of royal unity and influence. William and Catherine didn’t arrive alone. They were joined by Princess Eugenie, Zara Tindall, and the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh—a formidable gathering that subtly underlined Meghan’s increasing irrelevance in royal circles.
One can imagine Meghan googling, “What does it mean when everyone goes to a party except you?” as the royal circle continues to move forward without her. And speaking of William—bearded, polished, and commanding—his appearance alone sparked praise across the internet, which has aptly dubbed his charisma as “big duke energy.” Even his beard seems more composed than some of Harry’s public efforts.
Catherine, for her part, continues to shine. The yellow hue of her dress symbolized more than just spring—it radiated hope, composure, and quiet strength. She doesn’t need headlines or theatrics; her mere presence speaks volumes.
Let’s not forget that time Meghan supposedly called a royal garden party “boring” before dramatically exiting like she was auditioning for a reality show. In hindsight, that moment hasn’t aged well—like wilted lettuce under the sun. In contrast, the actual royals just keep showing up, doing meaningful work, and somehow never needing a six-part streaming special to prove their worth.
Zara Tindall, who doesn’t even hold an official royal role, still attends these events, still impresses, and, importantly, still gets invited. Meanwhile, Meghan seems stuck in a loop of selling recycled narratives and staging photo ops that come off more like yard sales of lost ambition than authentic expressions.
Catherine is flourishing. William is resonating. The royal family is closer and more focused than ever. Meghan, on the other hand, appears increasingly distant, clinging to her versions of the story while the monarchy quietly and confidently carries on. Every time she tries to make herself the headline, Catherine effortlessly steps out in a sunny dress and reminds the world exactly who is poised to be the future Queen. It’s not just a miscalculatio
