MUCH like her acting, nothing Meghan does is unscripted.
Her decision, then, to announce the launch of her latest pet project — dog treats — hours before Kate’s brave return to public duty was, at best, ill-timed.
At worst, pretty callous.
Was it deliberate? A heady bid to push her new product line and cynically upstage her sister-in-law?
Or, simply, a well-meaning gift to a few close friends, one of whom so happened to go on Instagram and plug the stuff?
Only Meghan and her harem of PR advisers know.
But what is certain is that the move seemingly reinforces the actress’s unfortunate reputation of that of a grifter.
(Uncannily, it comes exactly a year to the day that the boss of her former employer at Spotify labelled the Duke and Duchess of Sussex as “grifters” following their doomed £15million podcast deal.)
Einstein’s definition of madness is doing the same thing time and time again and expecting a different result.
Time and time again, then, Meghan rubs people up the wrong way — for example, dog biscuit-gate — and whines that people hate her and have an agenda.
They don’t.
In this instance, they just wanted poor Kate, undergoing brutal chemotherapy sessions, to get her moment in lights at Trooping The Colour when she’s doing so much to inspire the nation and those similarly afflicted with cancer. Was that too much to ask?
To recap, this is all part of the breathless PR campaign behind Meghan’s latest money-making venture, American Riviera Orchard.
The fledgling lifestyle brand, which she’s been quietly working on behind the scenes for the past year, is currently undergoing a “soft launch”.
That’s to say, she — or, rather, her well-paid publicity team — are sending gift packages to her close friends, conveniently those with a heavy social media presence, to plug her products.
First came the strawberry jam.
Cutely packaged in nice, branded little jars and personalised with Meghan’s delightful cursive script, 50 jars were duly boxed up and dispatched to her pals, who dutifully posted them online.
And, of course, waxed lyrical about the jammy contents.
A PR masterstroke.
Her fans were frothing at the mouth with frenzied excitement at this double whammy of wellness excitement. Jam!!! Dog treats!!!!
Then on Saturday, as Kate was stoically putting her game face on and preparing to face the world’s media for the first time in weeks — and the pages and pages of scrutiny and online scrutiny this would entail — Meg’s polo-playing mate, Nacho Figueras, popped up on Instagram with a cutesy little pic of his dog beside his new (presumably organic) treats.
Plus a new flavour of jam (raspberry, for those interested).
Cue mass hysteria about Meghan.
Her fans were frothing at the mouth with frenzied excitement at this double whammy of wellness excitement. Jam!!! Dog treats!!!!
Good ol’ Meg, forging her own career path, away from the “decrepit” and “racist behemoth” that is the Royal Family.
(For the record, I do think it’s a great thing that she’s launching her own business, and, frankly, all power to her for it.)
Yet the timing of the move smacked of someone bitter they hadn’t been invited, for the second year running, to Trooping The Colour and all the pageantry — which those Americans love and crave — that it entails.
Would it have killed Meg and co to hold off a few days? No.
In short, for a woman seemingly desperate to shed her opportunistic tag, the scheduling sucks.
It really does take the (dog) biscuit.
A WOMAN in South Wales was understandably a little bit shocked to have been quoted £500 by her vet for her hamster’s tooth bill.
Apparently, the fluffy rodent didn’t need Invisalign, veneers or teeth whitening – simply a little trim to keep the poor creature pain-free.
Instead of forking out for the vet, the entrepreneurial lady went on YouTube for a DIY hamster dentistry course – and, well, did it herself.
More and more, vets are getting away with daylight robbery, taking advantage of our unconditional animal love.
More needs to be done to regulate both our pets and our purses.
AS if the watered-down beer on offer to England fans at the Euros wasn’t sobering enough . . .
Nine – 9!!! – of the Three Lions squad were born in the 2000s.
If you didn’t feel old before, now you do.
You’re welcome.
ANOTHER week, another hack.
After buying some vitamins on Instagram, lured in by the advertised promise of ever-lasting life and vitality, I got a bounceback on my payment.
This was swiftly followed by an email starting: “Hi Sweety. (So far, so sweet.)
“I gained control of your devices thanks to your predilection for some sites.
“What that means to you is that I can see everything that happens on your screen and in front of your screen.
“I’m not wasting my time on you either and I’m just gonna post all this crap. I have everything I need.”
(And now for the twist.)
“After a while, I had an idea, I took screenshots of you satisfying yourself using the camera of one of your devices, to impress all your acquaintances.
“To cut a long story short, I will cut you a deal. Transfer me $1199 USD is fine with me, I will give you 48 hours to get on board.”
He then helpfully sent a “bitcoin wallet link”. (No idea, either.)
So, anyway, dear friends and family: Enjoy my Google search history of “why is my dog so barky?” and “do dogs feel unconditional love?” – and three million Amazon orders, most of them dog bones.
(Meghan, if you’re reading this, perhaps you could pop some doggy biscuits in the post.)
WHEN will politicians learn that sitting on a kids’ plastic chair is NEVER a good look?
Earlier this month, we had little-boy-bodied Rishi Sunak looking like a Year 5 during a trip to Great Oldbury Primary Academy – as if he needed any more help.
And last week, would-be PM Keir Starmer and Shadow Health Secretary Wes Streeting followed suit, wedged into tiny bucket seats behind a little green desk.
Don’t do it, boys. Don’t. Do. It.
DEFLECTION at its finest.
In the most mannish move imaginable, a man is suing Apple after his wife retrieved deleted iMessages on the family Mac, showing he’d been conducting an affair with a prostitute.
Blaming the company for the £5million the divorce has cost him, the love rat reckons it’s Apple’s fault that his willy slipped into places it shouldn’t have.
What a world.
ONE of Keir Starmer’s manifesto pledges is to ban the sale of energy drinks to under-16s.
He also plans on creating an extra 100,000 urgent dental appointments for children.
The two policies are concordant. These highly processed, sugary, caffeiney beverages are an affront to both teeth and our health.
These drinks are dangerous enough in the clutches of grown-up human beings, and are utterly evil for already over-hyped, on-edge, impressionable young kids, ones with a growing list of post-Covid mental health issues.
