Altering one’s art to appease critics is a dangerous and slippery slope. Yet it’s one I’d hoped Meghan Markle at least attempted to slide down — fork and garden hoe in hand — before beginning season two of her Netflix homemaking series With Love, Meghan.
Unfortunately, in the words of 18th-century poet Alexander Pope, hope springs eternal.
The first episode of season two, which debuted on Aug. 26, begins almost exactly as the March 4 season premiere pilot, with the Duchess of Sussex and her friend/makeup artist Daniel Martin together in a Montecito farmhouse kitchen. The scene signals viewers are in for more of what critics mercilessly panned the first time around. And the remaining seven episodes confirm that criticism fell on deaf ears; though, that’s not completely surprising, considering it was announced that filming for season two had been completed just three days after season one’s premiere, which was pushed back from its original date of Jan. 15 in consideration of the Los Angeles wildfires.
This time around, audiences at least get a tiny morsel of an explanation as to what Markle is attempting to accomplish with the show by way of a conversation with episode four guest, chef Samin Nosrat, who makes an offhand remark about how she loves the “chaos” of Markle’s kitchen because it’s “how people actually cook.” The word “chaos” doing quite a bit of heavy lifting to describe the perfectly prepped space in which they’re making chicken and bread salad. The Duchess, however, doesn’t miss a beat, replying, “That’s the thing, is to just be real about it and let’s work with what we have as opposed to going, ‘Here’s a recipe,’ [and] I have to go to the store [or] order all these things.”
“Or you feel really sad because you maybe don’t have every single thing,” Nosrat retorts.
As genuine as that concern likely is for Markle and a handful of her viewers, the actual real thing is the average American home doesn’t have the chicories chef Nosrat noticed in the kitchen that made her eyes light up at the thought of making Zuni Café’s famed salad, much less a well-maintained garden from which they can whimsically pick an assortment of flowers for an afternoon bouquet-making arts and craft session, as took place with David Chang and Christina Tosi in episode one, or organic vegetables for the fresh green juice with which she greets chef Clare Smyth, who designed her wedding menu, in episode six.
Nor do I think anyone who has the patience to sit through each 45-minute episode feels sad about that. In fact, I’d wager audiences wouldn’t mind Markle slyly reminding us how broke we are through her lavish California-country living — is it not that unattainability that has led viewers to tune into 10 iterations of the Real Housewives franchise for two decades? But rather than fully lean into her reality, it’s as though Markle is trying to occupy the space of the middle class that we as a society know no longer exists — and she wouldn’t be a part of anyway — making the twice-failed attempt at relatability in the series all the more painful to watch, again.
It would appear some guests got the memo that it’s not okay to be themselves either, as a historically outspoken Chrissy Teigen presents a muted version of herself in episode two. The most interesting thing to come from her is that she has each of her four children’s birthdates tattooed on her forearm, because she can’t remember them otherwise. That said, there’s a marked difference in entertainability between the guests who are assumed to be playing by the rules and those who say “to hell with them,” like Tan France, who in episode three, seems to help Markle bring out her true personality a bit by being his naturally vibrant and inquisitive self.
It’s in this episode that Markle reveals her husband, Prince Harry, said “I love you” first, and that she also shares how hard it was being away from her children for nearly three weeks one time — “I was not well,” she says — though she doesn’t utter the reason, which has been deduced as being the time she and Harry’s stay in Europe was unexpectedly extended due to Queen Elizabeth’s funeral in 2022.
It’s also at the end of that episode that France smears a glob of Greek yogurt mixed with green tea on his cheek, recommending it to Markle as his natural go-to face mask. She looks on unconvinced, replying “Okay” with a tone that lets us know she absolutely will not be following suit, which I’d argue is one of her most authentic moments. Because, why would a woman married to an abdicated prince (with whom Netflix just “extended its creative partnership” to include a first-look deal for all of their company, Archewell Productions’, film and television projects, as well as Markle’s “As Ever” lifestyle brand) need or want to make her own skincare?
That interaction begs a larger question of whether Markle really spends six days making homemade bread for her houseguests in a manner viewers are supposed to glean inspiration from to do, too — as evidenced by the cooking and crafting tutorials interspersed between guest interactions. Or is this all one very expensive and beautifully shot Suzy Homemaker-esque ruse? The truth not nearly as material to the show’s success as is the need for viewers to actually care about the answer.
It’s perfectly fine for Markle to be unrelatable, though I’m not sure she knows that; however, the absence of that ingredient makes the richness of the entertainment factor in this series all the more important. Unfortunately, the show lacks an engaging draw on that front as well, with its safe conversations that just barely surpass small talk. Without both, season two of With Love, Meghan is as sour as the first.