I’m going to admit something: I don’t know anything about Meghan Markle or her Netflix show. I’ve managed to avoid any chatter about With Love, Meghan as much as I’ve avoided chatter about other things, like Wicked and Taylor Swift’s many concert films and whatever “Marvel” means. This is less to do with cultural snobbery, per se, than it is about me having a very specific sense of what I’m into (true crime, LA-based fiction from the ’90s, Bravo franchises), and an unwillingness to tread new ground if I feel it won’t appeal.
But maybe I’m missing out. Maybe I ought to open my mind and heart to With Love, Meghan, which may not be aimed towards audiences like me (renters who have never thought about baubles in their life beyond a passing acknowledgement of their existence), but which I could nonetheless glean something from. To that end, I decided to watch With Love, Meghan: Holiday Celebration, a one-off episode in which the Duchess of Sussex “shares her favorite holiday traditions, seasonal crafts and family recipes with friends old and new in this festive special” to see if I could learn—or even just feel—something.
The episode begins with Markle offering tips on how to string lights on a Christmas tree. “When I string the lights on a tree, I do it inside so it’s lit from within,” she says, smiling at her towering tree, which is adorned in dry fig slices. Okay! After this, she explains how she makes advent calendars for her kids made from cloth. In lieu of chocolate, she writes notes such as, “I love you because you’re so brave.” I don’t have children, but I try to imagine how I would have felt if my mother had done such a thing. Confused, probably, but hey, we can’t knock sustainable alternatives to festive traditions.
Next up Markle prepares cacio e pepe gougères for restaurateur Will Guidara. “Dab that gougère,” she says, before nudging them in the oven. Then Guidara is in the kitchen, and they’re chatting about hosting. “When I think about the great dinner parties I’ve been to over the years, I don’t think about what I ate,” says Guidara, as the two of them clink glasses. “I just remember whether or not I left with my heart…” They both finish the sentence in unison, smiling: “Feeling full!” Is this too American for me? I find myself wondering, not for the first time. “The perfect imperfection that comes from human connection,” he says. “Yes!” cries Markle, as if Guidara just said something impossibly profound. I look at the clock: we’re 10 minutes in.
Much of the show continues in this vein. Making things, and talking, making things, and talking, until you’re lulled into a semi-hypnotic state. “I actually really like a seasonal wreath, I just think they’re such a nice touch,” says Markle, wrapping a piece of green ribbon around some pine needles. I did not, until this moment, realize that wreaths could be anything but seasonal. Later, I watch as Markle places tenderstem broccoli in a perfect circle. “What’s your favorite thing about the holiday?” she asks athlete Naomi Osaka. “Honestly, I think family,” Osaka responds. Again, I find myself settling into a strange, almost opiate-like state. None of this is riveting nor stimulating, but it’s not… unpleasant either.
In the final five minutes, Prince Harry—another person who I know nothing about other than the fact he’s part of the royal family and famously ginger—makes an appearance. “I smell gumbo,” he says, after planting a kiss on his wife. “Gumbo for me is one of my favourites, especially her mum’s.” Markle replies: “I’ll give you a little towel, because he’s going to sweat.” So now I know two extra things about Prince Harry: he enjoys gumbo, and he sweats when he eats it. Now, we all know this. Is this something we all needed to know?
After finishing With Love, Meghan: Holiday Celebration, I’m left with a few takeaways. On the one hand, I can see why the show was critically panned. Sometimes, people are given a platform because of who they are, rather than what they can bring, and With Love, Meghan gives me the same feeling as when I am around very wealthy people who think that making a salad with friends makes them “grounded” and “relatable.” On the other hand, there’s something soothing, even enjoyable, about the show’s glossy inanity.
Last year, my colleague Radhika Seth wrote about “ambient TV”: “I actually don’t mind—I almost prefer it,” she wrote of shows which are, “reliably unchallenging” and which you could scroll on your phone to. With Love, Meghan, I feel, fits squarely within this category. Which is no bad thing. Not everything has to be cerebral, or even enlightening—sometimes it’s enough to be comforting. And if we can’t watch comforting, temperate, nothing-y-but-in-a-good-way TV at Christmas, then when can we?