In a cringe-worthy turn that’s got royal critics howling, Prince Harry—once a dashing helicopter pilot and global humanitarian—has been reduced to weekend warrior status, desperately helping his wife Meghan Markle offload what insiders are calling piles of “stale” jam and chocolate from her struggling lifestyle brand, As Ever (formerly the ill-fated American Riviera Orchard). Sources say the Duke of Sussex is burning through his Saturdays and Sundays in damage-control mode, appearing in awkward home videos, personally endorsing the least popular flavors, and allegedly doing whatever it takes to shift inventory that’s been rotting in warehouses and even overflowing into Netflix offices.
The saga exploded earlier this year when a embarrassing website glitch on As Ever’s site accidentally leaked massive stock numbers: over 220,000 jars of jam still sitting unsold, 30,000 jars of honey, 90,000 candles, 80,000 tins of those infamous flower sprinkles, and tens of thousands of wine bottles gathering dust. While Meghan’s camp scrambled to spin it as proof of “strong demand” and “plans for global expansion”—claiming nearly a million jars had already flown off shelves in a fairy-tale success story—online sleuths and critics weren’t buying it. Reddit threads lit up with calculations showing hundreds of thousands of unsold units, with some estimating millions in tied-up capital for a brand that’s failed to capture mainstream attention beyond a handful of celebrity gifting stunts.
Enter Prince Harry, the reluctant salesman. In a recent Instagram video that’s been mocked across social media, Meghan “surprises” her barefoot husband at his desk with bars from the As Ever x Compartés chocolate collaboration. Harry, looking more obligated than excited, grabs the white chocolate bar—the one flavor that’s notoriously not selling out—and exclaims “Oh… Oooh!” before declaring it his favorite. Cue instant “sold out” claims for that specific item, but skeptics point out the obvious: it’s the Prince Harry Effect in action, a manufactured boost for the dud product. “He picked the white chocolate because that’s the one they can’t move,” one royal commentator snarked online. “Poor Harry doesn’t even get to unwrap or eat it on camera—just props for the promo.”
Critics are savage about the optics. “Things must be getting desperate if Meghan’s roping Prince Harry in for an As Ever promo,” tweeted one prominent royal account, noting Harry’s unemployment status and suggesting he’s “earning his keep” as a last-ditch promo prop. Another viral post called it “cringe,” accusing the couple of using Harry as an “Instagram husband” to peddle “overpriced junk.” Social media is flooded with jabs: “Poor Harry has to eat all of Mental Meg’s chocolate inventory,” one user quipped. “Too much of her chocolate bars will make your teeth rot!” Others highlight reports of unsold jam literally being given away to Netflix staff to clear space—hardly the sign of a thriving luxury brand.
The brand’s troubles run deep. Launched amid fanfare in 2024 as American Riviera Orchard, it hit trademark snags (including clashes with rival Harry & David) and quietly rebranded to As Ever in 2025 for broader appeal. Tied to Meghan’s Netflix series *With Love, Meghan*, the products—priced at $14 for jam jars and $12+ for chocolate bars—promised gourmet sophistication with “signature ingredients” like flower sprinkles. But beyond initial sell-outs hyped on social media (often limited drops that vanished in minutes), sustained demand has fizzled. Valentine’s Day bundles at eye-watering $185 for the full edit (including jams, tea, candles, and chocolates) drew backlash for being tone-deaf amid economic pressures, forcing a cheaper $92 “Sweetheart Bundle” option that critics slammed as sloppy and rushed.
Financial whispers are growing louder. With Archewell facing reported layoffs and past big-money deals (Netflix, Spotify) winding down or underperforming, As Ever was meant to be Meghan’s path to independent mogul status—like a royal Goop. Instead, it’s become a punchline. “When you have to wheel out Spare Harry as the promo prop because no celebrities will touch it,” one X post read, summing up the isolation. Harry’s weekend hustle—strategy sessions, tastings, and social media pushes—paints a picture of a couple scrambling to salvage a failing venture rather than enjoying the fruits of success.
Insiders say Harry’s involvement goes beyond cameos: he’s allegedly helping pack orders, brainstorming promotions, and using his star power to create artificial urgency. But the effort reeks of desperation. “Harry’s jobless, so he has to earn his keep somehow,” one critic noted. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Even supporters struggle to defend it, with some fans admitting the white chocolate “sold out” only after Harry’s endorsement—proving the brand’s reliance on royal nostalgia rather than genuine appeal.
As Valentine’s Day 2026 fades and more holiday drops loom, the question looms: How long can the Sussexes keep propping up this jam-and-chocolate house of cards? With Harry sacrificing weekends to shift “stale” stock, the once-glamorous Montecito life looks more like a grind than a dream. Royal watchers agree—this isn’t empire-building; it’s survival mode.
Readers, is Harry the ultimate supportive spouse, or is this the clearest sign yet that Meghan’s brand is in serious trouble? Sound off below—because the chocolate may be sweet, but the reality sure isn’t! 🍫😬
