What Julie Burchill actually wrote about Meghan Markle on March 17, and what it tells us

Julie Burchill published a column in the Spectator on March 17, 2026, titled “Spare us the girls’ weekend, Meghan.” The hook is Meghan’s upcoming appearance at a women’s retreat in Sydney, priced at $2,699 AUD. What follows is not a review of the event. It is worth reading closely for what it actually contains.

What She Wrote

Burchill speculates about how many yachts Meghan was “a guest on” before meeting Harry, and asks whether the number was “double figures, or triple.” The yacht insinuation is a longstanding smear with racialized overtones that has followed Meghan since before her engagement. It implies sex work. The question mark provides the deniability.

She speculates about “that special thing she must have done in the sack” to “hook” Harry, whom she describes as “admittedly dim but fifth in line to the throne.” She calls Meghan the “Dirty Duchess.” She references her “twerking” before giving birth. She refers to four-year-old Lilibet as “Princess Lilibet Ltd.”

She compares Meghan to “an ex-Doctor Who at a sci-fi fan convention” charging for photos, and pivots to menopause jokes: “Will her future fun weekends include menopause workshops and how to deal holistically with hot flashes?”

This was published in a mainstream British magazine.

The Standard She Measures Meghan Against

Burchill frames the Sydney retreat as insufferably earnest, then offers her own women’s event as the superior alternative. At her 50th birthday, she writes, she invited 50 women to a Brighton beach bar. What followed: a catfight serious enough to require a bouncer, two public sexual encounters that drew complaints from passing parents, three cautions from management for open drug use, and four guests leaving in tears because a fortune teller delivered bad news. This, in Burchill’s telling, was a good party. Meghan’s event, featuring meditation, psychology sessions, and a fireside chat, is “mired in me-me-me-mulch.”

The baseline is explicit: women gathering for mutual support is ridiculous. A women’s event is only worthwhile if it involves physical altercations, substance use, and chaos. Burchill positions herself as the woman who finds female company suffocating after thirty minutes, who would rather draw “crude approximations of penises on fragrant toilet doors” than spend time in an all-female space. She describes 300 women gathering as producing “undiluted estrogen.” From that vantage point, an event built around reconnection and wellbeing is not just boring. It is contemptible.

This is a woman writer, in a column ostensibly about another woman, telling her readers that women en masse are unbearable and that sincerity is a character flaw. The target is not just Meghan. It is the 300 women who bought tickets.

Where Her Facts Come From

Burchill’s one factual claim about the Netflix relationship comes from “a source telling the Daily Mail” that Netflix was unhappy with As Ever. She does not cite Variety’s reporting directly, but the Daily Mail source is part of the same anonymous chain. Anonymous insiders talk to Variety. Variety publishes. The Daily Mail picks it up and adds its own anonymous sources. Burchill cites the Daily Mail. By the time the claim reaches her column, it reads like established fact.

She does not quote Meghan, her representatives, or anyone associated with Archewell or As Ever. She does not note that Netflix’s own spokesperson disputed the core claims in the reporting she relies on. She does not mention that Bela Bajaria went on the record calling Archewell “a thoughtful and collaborative partner.”

The Jam Problem

Burchill reduces As Ever to jam. “Think of all the jam she must have left,” she writes, imagining Meghan selling it out of the back of a car.

The actual As Ever product line: fruit spreads ($12 to $42), wildflower and orange blossom honey ($32 to $62), three herbal teas ($14 each), two signature candles ($64 each), mulling spice kits ($16 each), flower sprinkles ($15), curated gift sets ($98 to $174), and a leather bookmark ($20, currently sold out). The brand also has a separate wine line.

Variety made a similar error in its piece the same day, claiming the surplus inventory included “baking mixes.” Baking mixes do not exist in the As Ever catalog. Neither publication described the actual product line. Both described a version that was easier to mock.

What the Column Does Not Mention

The Harry & Meghan docuseries was Netflix’s highest-debuting documentary, with 81.55 million hours viewed in the first four days. Spare was the fastest-selling nonfiction book of all time. Meghan’s Archetypes podcast was well-rated by Spotify’s own metrics. Two scripted features are currently in development at Netflix. Archewell reported selling out As Ever inventory across the board after launch. The Sydney retreat sold out in its initial allocation.

None of this appears. The column presents a woman with no commercial successes, no audience, and no future, sustained only by the residual curiosity of people who haven’t caught on yet. The evidence for this portrait is a Daily Mail anonymous source and Burchill’s own speculation about Meghan’s sexual history.

What This Is

A mainstream British publication printed sexual speculation about a woman, body-based ridicule, a mocking reference to her four-year-old daughter, racialized innuendo about sex work, and menopause jokes. It sourced its one factual claim to an anonymous Daily Mail quote. It did not contact the subject or her representatives. It did not engage with any of the on-record denials that were publicly available on the same day.

That is the column. Those are the facts of what was published. Readers can draw their own conclusions about what kind of journalism this represents.

Celeb Chai examines manipulation patterns and institutional power dynamics in celebrity and royal media coverage.