Across the pond, Prince William and King Charles are working to pare down the monarchy to make it more relatable in 21st-century society.
But here in the United States, Meghan Markle — who spent less than two years as a working royal — seems to be reveling in pomp and stuffy formalities.
A new Harper’s Bazaar cover story reveals the depths of her self-importance, as the writer notes the hoity-toity spectacle that played out at an Upper East Side brownstone belonging to Markle’s friend:
“When I enter, the house manager announces, ‘Meghan, Duchess of Sussex,’ even though we appear to be the only other two people in the house.”
You seriously can’t just open the door yourself? Maybe give your friend’s help the day off?
The scene immediately conjures up the old “Saturday Night Live” sketch in which Garrett Morris, playing a crier at a Victorian-era ball, announces the arrival of “Lord and Lady Douchebag.”
Most people would burst into hysterics hearing their name and title announced to a party of one — or even announced at all.
But not Markle, who has no sense of humor or proportion.
“I don’t like things that feel overly realized,” she actually says. “If you overwork the dough, it’s not going to rise.”
She only has an aggrandized view of herself: In her mind, she’s a humanitarian. A crusading feminist. A founder.
All of that is evident in this piece, which touts how Markle is meeting “her moment” and finally able to “author her own chapter.”
Yes, finally, she is able to define herself in her own words.
Forget the notorious Oprah interview, when she painted her in-laws as cold racists unwilling to help her weather mental health woes. And it must have been difficult for Markle to let others frame her narrative in a little Netflix docu-series called “Harry and Meghan” — that was also produced by the titular couple and featured them airing even more royal dirty laundry.
Never mind her two podcasts, where all she did was yap.
Friends like Serena Wiliams coo about her kindness in the story, which retreads the classics: the precocious letter she wrote to Proctor and Gamble as a 12-year-old protesting gender stereotypes; her LA childhood during the “cinematic” Rodney King riots; the false premise that she faced “intense” public”vitriol” as soon as she started dating Harry.
In other words, nothing new because she has nothing exciting going.
And yet — Markle is so vainglorious that she has her rep present during an interview at the incredibly public Beverly Hills Hotel.
After all, her people need to ensure she’s not misquoted or pressed too hard during a visit to the La Brea Tar Pits with a group of STEM schoolgirls.
“I don’t know how any woman could see a young girl and not see herself in her, especially at that age,” Markle said.
As for her own kids: “I hope they see the value of being brave. They saw it when the jam was just a pot on the stove, bubbling.”
Vomit.
In actuality, this “moment” Harpers Bazaar writes about is one in which Markle is becoming a Hollywood has-been with overhyped and underwhelming projects.
I declare thee the duchess of duds.
Since tapping the royal vein dry, she’s had to rely on her own ideas.
There’s the lifestyle brand As Ever, selling flower sprinkles, sickly sweet jam and scented candles. Her Netflix series, “Love, Meghan,” has been a devastating snoozefest, set in a rented mansion where Markle makes lavender towels and crop dusts viewers with the word “joy.”
Not surprisingly, the series didn’t crack the streamer’s Top 300 most-watched titles.
Her first podcast lasted a season at Spotify. The second one was killed off that quickly, too.
At this rate, Markle will be best known for hanging at Kris Jenner’s birthday party.
When the Harper’s Bazaar writer asks “what she’s learned from her mistakes,” Markle replies: “You learn not to do it again. If it all goes swimmingly, you don’t learn from it.”
And yet — here we are again.
