How, exactly, does one deal with a problem like Meghan and Harry? It is easy to imagine the question surfacing over the King’s morning Burford Browns, however unwelcome it may be. After weeks of carefully calibrated hints and manoeuvring, the couple finally emerged together in Nottingham, making their first official-but-not-quite-official appearance as a pair.
Meghan arrived in a polished palette of plum and burgundy, the unofficial colours of non-royal royalty. Her look included a £26 Marks & Spencer belt alongside £650 Jennifer Chamandi stilettos, a £345 Joseph cashmere sweater and a £1,495 Joseph cashmere coat — an ensemble designed to suggest both luxury and accessibility.
Adding another carefully judged touch of informality, she revealed a bare calf and ankle. It was a performance of relatable elegance: could anyone appear more grounded, authentic or connected to ordinary people?
Around 200 admirers gathered, although a sizeable proportion were photographers and reporters. The Duchess held her bouquet as though it had come from the luxury florist Moyses Stevens, squealed with delight, hugged supporters and posed for selfies. Smiles, applause and tilted heads followed as she mingled with a hand-picked group of angelic-looking children, while Harry watched with the expression of a devoted puppy.
The couple decorated cakes, greeted strangers as if they were old friends and waved enthusiastically to the crowd. In almost every respect, it resembled the public engagements they undertook before their “freedom flight”. The notable differences were six years of misguided behaviour, millions spent on legal fees and a considerable quantity of rather cloying jam.
Nottingham was where Harry and Meghan made their first official royal appearance together in 2017. Given their fondness for symbolism, the return was unlikely to have been accidental. Yet the choice was also curious. Wasn’t it precisely this kind of demanding public performance, carried out under the royal banner, that supposedly drove them to seek a quieter and more private life?
Harry and Meghan made a dramatic return to Nottingham for their first official non-official appearance as a couple, writes Sarah Vine
At the same time in Cardiff, King Charles and Queen Camilla were carrying out the ceremonial opening of the Welsh Parliament’s new term. They met community groups and attempted to avoid anti-monarchy demonstrators, yet attracted so little attention that they might almost have remained in bed.
For the King — and, by extension, Prince William — the situation must feel grimly predictable. It is the scenario they have feared since the Sussexes stunned the family by announcing their return to Britain.
Freed from protocol and apparently unconcerned with conventional restraint, Harry and Meghan have positioned themselves squarely on the King’s territory. Their aim seems clear: to become the younger, more fashionable alternative within the wider royal brand. In an age of rapidly shifting public loyalties, they may well manage it.
For many people, the Sussexes remain deeply objectionable. Their repeated actions suggest little understanding of the Crown’s constitutional role, and they appear a world away from the example set by Queen Elizabeth II, whose public life was defined by duty. Critics see them as self-interested, entitled and relentless in the pursuit of their own goals.
Paradoxically, those qualities may be what make them such a formidable challenge. In a social-media culture where influence is counted in clicks and likes, and perseverance is often undervalued, the Duke and Duchess fit neatly into a dominant narrative of grievance. Their tendency to blame others and present themselves as victims reflects the mood of the moment.
KEEP READING: Father Admits Shaking 5-Month-Old Son Before His Death, Police Say: ‘I Just Wanted Him to Be Quiet’
They offer, in other words, the combination of emptiness and self-regard that can attract a large following — particularly among people who find the King’s seriousness and the senior royals’ stoicism too demanding for an age shaped by instant gratification.
In an era dominated by social media, the Duke and Duchess appear closely aligned with the culture of grievance and victimhood
A generation ago, the King’s determination to continue working despite ill health would have been regarded as evidence of courage and character. Today, in a culture increasingly hostile to sacrifice, it can be dismissed as an outdated devotion to the “stiff upper lip” — the same attitude Harry criticised in Spare, linking it to emotional repression and the psychological damage he says followed the death of his mother, Princess Diana.
The result is a striking double standard. Meghan and Harry are praised as courageous for discussing mental health, while a man in his 70s who continues to fulfil his duties every day during cancer treatment is portrayed as cold and emotionally detached. It is a dispiriting reversal of values.
The available options are limited. Harry and Meghan show no sign of adopting greater restraint or deference. They appear determined to build careers as royal-adjacent figures, taking whatever steps are needed to compete with the official family for public attention. Yet the King cannot simply punish them: whatever else one may think, they have committed no formal offence.
That is why, ultimately, I suspect the Sussexes may have to be welcomed back into the fold. Restoring their titles and status, along with the privileges that once came with them — permanent security, extensive staff, grand accommodation, balcony appearances and a financial allowance — may be the only practical way to contain their influence.
The lesson comes from Harry’s mother, Princess Diana. For the Royal Family, she was more disruptive outside the institution than within it. Sadly, I fear the same calculation may now apply to her younger son and his ambitious wife.
Zeta’s glam… like my gran
Catherine Zeta-Jones appears in Kill Jackie on Amazon Prime
Having spent a few days on the sofa last week recovering from a small operation, I stumbled across Kill Jackie on Amazon Prime. Think Guy Ritchie meets Quentin Tarantino meets Gavin And Stacey, with Catherine Zeta-Jones as the eponymous Jackie, a reformed cocaine queenpin from Swansea on the run from a gang of assassins. It’s both bonkers and brilliant – not least because even though Zeta-Jones looks every inch the star, each time she opens her mouth she sounds exactly like my Welsh granny.
Hail Sufragettes of Smugdom
They are the ME+EM Martyrs, the Artisanal Agitators, the Suffragettes of Smugdom. Well-heeled, well-connected, secure in their lib-Left outlook, ensconced in their own VIP corner of the moral high ground. I’m talking, of course, about the Palestine Action (proscribed terror group) fangirls: Tilda Swinton, Charlotte Church, Miriam Margolyes, Sally Rooney – and now author Sarah Helm, wife of the Government’s national security adviser, Jonathan Powell. Far be it from me to criticise the wife of a high-profile official for expressing a political opinion. But I seem to recall that when I dared to make a modest suggestion at the time of Brexit, I was vilified by the so-called sisterhood and branded ‘Lady Macbeth’. Whereas Ms Helm remains unchastened and has even been characterised as ‘standing up for free speech’. Where did I go wrong?
Last week, a coroner ruled that Adriana Retyte, a 14-year-old from Norfolk who took her own life in May was ‘aided by having viewed online content’ – the content being videos on suicide. Hers is not the first family to have its heart ripped out by social media, nor will it be the last. Meanwhile, we learn that Nick Clegg is set to trouser £30million from the Wall Street flotation of Nscale, a UK-based AI company. Seriously, how do these tech ghouls sleep at night?