The more I think about it, the more the parallels become blindingly obvious. Scary, even.
The annoyingly perfect sister-in-law who never puts a fingernail wrong; the marriage to the slightly better looking/wayward (but not quite as bright) second son; the airs of a princess but without any of the graces.
Expensive tastes and a grabby, ambitious nature; casting themselves as kind and caring while showing complete disregard for everyone else’s feelings; framing themselves as victims by way of deflecting responsibility for their own actions; using their royal connections for personal gain while showing a total lack of respect for the institution of the monarchy.
The Duchess of Sussex or Sarah Ferguson? Meghan Markle or the Duchess of York? Different generations of royal consorts; strikingly similar stories.
Of course, the specifics are very different. As unpleasant as the Duchess of Sussex has been towards the Royal Family, and particularly her sister-in-law the Princess of Wales; however offensive her mocking of the late Queen, or her shameless cashing-in on her title while deriding the history and traditions behind it, she is not (yet) in the same league as the Duchess of York.
This week’s revelations about Sarah Ferguson’s connections with Jeffrey Epstein have made for very uncomfortable reading. Especially for someone like me, who over the years had come to think of her as a woman who, while not necessarily the most fiscally competent person or someone who always engages her brain before acting on her instincts, was fundamentally a well-meaning and sincere individual. Misunderstood, even.
I see now that I was totally, completely, utterly hoodwinked. I’m the last person to want to see someone getting cancelled – but honestly.
Lying in an interview about your relationship with a convicted sex trafficker, pretending you knew nothing about it when clearly you did, saying you’re severing all ties and then just a few weeks later sending a grovelling email rowing back? It is all, I’m afraid, evidence of someone who is as morally bankrupt as she seemed financially at the time (although she avoided that official definition). I don’t think there’s much coming back from this.
Still, it makes me sad. Sad for her daughters, because they are inevitably going to have to pick up the pieces of their shattered mother; sad for King Charles because it’s obviously a massive headache which, quite frankly, he doesn’t need right now; and sad for all those people who invested in brand York, including the many noble charities who have now been forced to sever ties with her. What a godawful mess.
This week’s revelations about Sarah Ferguson’s connections with Jeffrey Epstein have made for very uncomfortable reading, writes Sarah Vine
Just like the Duchess of York, at first the Duchess of Sussex seemed like a breath of fresh air to the royals, writes Sarah Vine. But, as they found out they were just the support act, both wanted more
It’s never easy marrying into the Royal Family, and the scrutiny must be exhausting. Sarah Ferguson certainly suffered more than her fair share of it. That said, the rewards are considerable: privilege, status, security, hot and cold running staff, endless opportunities to pursue one’s private passions. There are plenty who would gladly exchange their daily drudgery for a slice of that pie.
And indeed, there are plenty of royal consorts – from the late Duchess of Kent to Sophie, Duchess of Edinburgh and, of course, the Princess of Wales – who manage the downsides with charm and the upsides with gratitude.
With two notable exceptions: the Duchess of York and the Duchess of Sussex. Different generations, same problem.
Is the fact that they both married ‘spares’ significant? I suspect so. Both came on the scene as vivacious, rather racy young women, what young people today like to call ‘disruptors’. Neither fitted the conventional mould of royal spouse.
Ferguson was the archetypal Sloane Ranger, all fun, fun, fun, velvet hairbands and ballet pumps; Markle was the more refined 21st-century version, infinitely more polished but no less ambitious and (gasp) a divorcee.
At first, they both felt like breaths of fresh air, welcome injections of chutzpah and energy into the somewhat staid royal ranks. Their own personalities suited the more carefree characters of the second-born heirs: Andrew with his reputation as ‘Randy Andy’, Harry with his naked-billiards-playing Las Vegas past.
They loved the glamour and the limelight, the toasts and the tiaras – and they got them. Dazzling, taxpayer-funded weddings for both, watched by millions of royal fans around the world. Sarah had a Burmese ruby and diamond engagement ring, chosen to match her red hair, and her wedding day was a national holiday. Meghan’s ring was set with diamonds from Princess Diana’s collection, and their Windsor wedding cost more than £30million.
But as both women settled into their royal existences, the inevitability of their situations slowly dawned on them: they were not the main attraction, someone else was. They were just the support act, and that wasn’t good enough. They wanted more.
In the Duchess of York’s case, she wanted her toes sucked by an American financier and the freedom to pursue a career as chat-show pundit and all-round rent-a-royal in America. Her lucrative contracts with the likes of WeightWatchers helped turn around her financial fortunes, but not before she had sold every part of herself she could.
The Duchess of Sussex is not far behind. There’s her With Love, Meghan show on Netflix, her lifestyle brand American Riviera Orchard (the Duchess of York once launched her own brand of tea and biscuits, while the Duchess of Sussex is an investor in Clevr Blends, an instant latte brand) and endless self-serving confessionals.
They have both starred in documentaries about themselves: Sarah’s was a six-part documentary series focusing on her ‘personal struggles’, broadcast on Oprah Winfrey’s OWN network – the TV superstar is something else they have in common, Oprah having conducted the infamous interview with Harry and Meghan in 2021, in which the Duchess accused senior royals of racism and downplaying her mental health struggles.
Then there are the children’s books: Sarah’s Budgie The Little Helicopter series, Meghan’s The Bench, which her and Harry’s Archewell Foundation generously donated to libraries, schools and non-profit organisations in the US.
Fergie and Andrew at Royal Ascot in 2019
But perhaps the most striking thing they have in common is their taste for the finer things in life. This is something that comes up time and again in private conversations with people who know or have known them both over the years. They both demand, and expect, the absolute vippiest of VIP treatment, at all times.
Not for Sarah and Meghan the ‘modest’ surroundings of Frogmore Cottage; the Duchess of York reportedly has her own wing at Royal Lodge – even though she and the Prince have been divorced for 30 years now, three times the length of time they were married.
As for the Duchess of Sussex, she never tires of ‘sharing’ snippets of her luxury Montecito lifestyle, in a mansion they paid more than £11million for in 2020. She and Harry seem to go everywhere by private jet, and her outfits are never knowingly undervalued.
And, like the Yorks, the Sussexes like to hang out with wealthy, successful people. People such as Tyler Perry, the businessman and entertainer who, in 2020, lent them his house for a period after their ‘flight to freedom’, and also provided them with security.
Perry, who is godfather to the couple’s youngest, Lilibet, is no Epstein; but he’s also not a wholly straightforward acquaintance. His shows, while commercially successful, are considered very controversial, and some – including the film director Spike Lee – have accused him of reinforcing stereotypes about black people.
And in June this year an actor named Derek Dickson filed a lawsuit against him, seeking more than £200million in damages for a variety of alleged sexual offences including creating a ‘coercive, sexually exploitative dynamic’ in the workplace. Perry’s legal team have denied all charges, describing them as a scam. The case is ongoing.
The situation that the Duchess of York now faces ought to be a red flag for the Sussexes. There are far too many parallels for comfort.
It would be a tragedy if the Sussexes were to find themselves – like the Yorks – caught up in a Hogarthian progression, where the cast of characters grows ever more questionable as their need for money and patronage increases.
It’s a cautionary tale. Let’s hope they take heed.