I almost spat out my toast (smothered with the As Ever, The Raspberry Spread Trio – “Made To Keep On Hand And Enjoy Often,” $42 – naturally) in pure molten anticipation when I read that my role model in spreading jam to flour, sorry, speaking truth to power, will be hosting a women-only weekend “retreat” in Sydney during her forthcoming Australia jaunt, with tickets “a steal” at $2,699 AUD ($1,930 USD). I already had my credit card in my hot little hand until I remembered that, though I love to lunch tête-à-tête with one lady, being in the company of many women at once – with not one awful toxic man around – makes me feel like drawing crude approximations of penises on fragrant toilet doors after around half an hour.
Still, what a smorgasbord of Mary-Sue-ism this will be for anyone who doesn’t mind breathing undiluted estrogen for three days. Touted as “a girls’ weekend like no other,” this sumptuous banquet of positivity will be hosted by Her Best Life podcast at the five-star InterContinental Sydney Coogee Beach. The host of Her Best Life proclaimed: “I have admired [Meghan] and what she has endured… and how she has demonstrated how a woman can be pushed down and she can still rise… it’s a very small event for 300 women… it’s going to be a fireside chat with Meghan and I.” Sounds like something you’d do with a steamed pudding rather than a life, making one hope that there will be more recipe-tips a-plenty, such as Meghan’s timeless “when in doubt, chuck some flower petals on top and hope they’re not poisonous.”
Hmm. Take it from one who knows, an event with 300 women present will not be a fireside chat. On my 50th birthday, many moons ago, I thought it would be fun to invite 50 close female friends on a steaming July day to a daytime celebration at a gorgeous Brighton beach bar. Mostly media girls down from London, with a smattering of local sex-workers and within a few hours it was mayhem. There was one catfight – a serious slug-fest, which an actual bouncer had to break up – two al-fresco lesbian hook-ups which brought complaints from passing parents, three cautions from the management for frank and open drug use and four early departures in tears because the fortune teller I had thoughtfully provided had foretold fortunes which weren’t what the curious ones had expected.
I sincerely doubt that Meghan’s get-together will be that much fun; it’s mired in me-me-me-mulch already. The secret of throwing a great party – which I did many times in my salad days – is making people forget themselves. This, on the other French-manicured hand, sounds like en masse navel-gazing – featuring as it does a psychology session, sound-healing, meditation and “manifestation” – which can often end up being quite the “downer” when added to a few slugs of cheap wine. (You just know the wine will be cheap, probably decanted into special Meghan “keepsake” bottles.) Or as the Her Best Life account posted on Instagram: “This is going to be an unforgettable weekend designed for women who want to reconnect, recharge, laugh, learn and have some serious fun.” Hmm again – in my experience, what happens on a genuinely good night out is generally best forgotten.
No one will get to ask anything interesting, like how many yachts she was a guest on before she met her prince
As for “The highlight of the weekend will be an in-person conversation with Meghan, Duchess of Sussex,” I don’t think it’ll be what we generally consider a conversation, characterized by the exchange of views and information. No one will get to ask anything interesting, like how many yachts she was a guest on before she met her prince – was it double figures, or triple? Nobody will get a sniff of what that special thing she must have done in the sack – excuse my crudity – in order to hook a man who’s admittedly dim but is fifth in line to the throne, which would definitely have been my question. On the upside, we are also promised a “dance-floor-filled disco night”; I would pay good money, if not quite the large sum required, to see the Dirty Duchess “twerking” as she did prior to birthing little Princess Lilibet Ltd.
The announcement of this smug-fest came just a few days after Netflix and As Ever said “nevermore” to their fond alliance, with a source telling the Daily Mail “Netflix were not happy with the fact that no one really cared about the brand – so when they were looking to create As Ever areas in Netflix House, there was no appetite for it… it just didn’t fit with Squid Game or Stranger Things or Bridgerton like they had hoped.” The mention of these smash hit shows – which I think we can safely say appeal to quite a youthful demographic of the “progressive” kind, the kind who believe that Meghan was hard done by the Wicked Racist Royal Family and were on her side – bodes badly for the Sussexes’ showbiz future. It’s clear that the couple – both in their forties – fancy themselves down with da kidz, but – quelle surprise – the kidz aren’t crazy keen on condiments unless it’s that hot stuff from Nando’s. Will her future fun weekends include menopause workshops and how to deal holistically with hot flashes?
That she is charging people to have their photograph taken with her – like an ex-Doctor Who at a sci-fi fan convention – is proof, if we needed it, that Meghan has passed irretrievably from the ranks of royalty to that of pay-by-the-hour celebrity. And think of all the jam she must have left! In tricky situations, I tend to think “What would Joan Jett do?” In the late 1970s, after the breakup of her band the Runaways, and being rejected by a whopping 23 record labels, that wonderful woman oversaw the pressing of her debut solo album Bad Reputation herself and sold it out of the back of a Cadillac after she had played shows. If Meghan’s going to make a regular thing of these meet and greets, she could get shot of the sticky proof of her Netflix misadventure in no time.
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