I am firmly, staunchly and completely a small-d democrat. The very idea that someone should, simply by accident of birth, be granted wealth, position and power — to say nothing of castles and tiaras — seems outmoded, if not faintly ridiculous. OK, yes, I love The Crown, but that’s pretty much where my interest in royalty ends. I don’t actually care all that much about celebrities beyond the odd juicy divorce, either. After all, I’m a busy woman with a job, a family and the same endless to-do list as everyone else, right? Well, sort of.
The truth is, I am completely and utterly obsessed with Meghan Markle.
I’m not talking about a mild interest when MM pops up in the news or on one of my social feeds. I’m talking obsessed, as in Googling the yoga-fied, California-born, soon-to-be duchess numerous times a day. (Let’s not put a number on it.) Obsessed as in doing a deep dive into the analysis of MM’s choice of a cross-body bag. Yes, there was analysis. No royal, it seems, has ever used anything other than a clutch or handbag, the better to avoid shaking unwanted hands. The messy bun she rocked at a recent appearance with Harry was treated as the second American revolution, and I devoured every picture. I am following the London bookie action on her potential wedding dress designer. (I am sounding more and more pathetic to myself as I write.) And my search history betrays me: I am now fed royal news on every platform I turn to. That’s like putting a slot machine in a compulsive gambler’s bedroom.
It’s not just MM’s fashion sense that gets me, though. I love that she is a self-proclaimed feminist; I am thrilled that she spoke up for the #metoo movement; I admire the way she proudly owns her background in a land where aristocracy is still so closely guarded.
But honestly, my MM fascination is so out of character that I fear it needs an explanation/excuse. Here are my theories: The news in our country is so unrelentingly bleak, depressing and downright scary. In this age of anxiety, controversy over whether MM’s black pants suit is appropriate evening wear is a (very!) welcome relief. Another point in my defense: I work largely on my own, sans the distraction of gossiping with coworkers, and the running royal soap opera is my virtual coffee break. Finally, my daughter is off at school (and anyway, she is much more Team Kate). Bottom line: For whatever global, personal or nonsensical reason, I’m eager to see MM shake things up across the pond — and just as eager to see what she’ll be wearing while she does it. My deepest hope is that she doesn’t get too royalized (keep the bare legs, Meg!) and instead, that the Kensington Brigade gets Meghanized. Either way, I will be watching (and watching and watching).
Everyone needs a girlfriend!
Sign up to receive our free weekly newsletter every Thursday.