JANE TIPPETT: The hidden messages in Meghan Markle’s drastic fashion rebrands that reveal who the Duchess REALLY wants to be…

Unveiling her As Ever range this week, the Duchess of Sussex posted an Instagram photo of her pre-teen self, proffering a box of Girl Scout cookies and dressed in what I first assumed was a Girl Scout uniform.

In the caption, Meghan jokes she’s ‘still selling cookies’ all these years later – a reference to her new line’s shortbread mix, which is one of the eight food products on offer.

So far, so cute – except for one small detail. Look closer, and it’s clear Meghan is dressed, not in the uniform of a Girl Scout, but a Brownie.

It may seem a minor misstep but, just like the revelation that the kitchen in ‘With Love, Meghan’ wasn’t her own, the unfortunate discrepancy undercuts the authenticity which the Duchess seems to be trying to telegraph.

Because Meghan is, I believe, acutely aware of her own story. And she crafts it, in part, through the clothes she puts on her back.

Personally, I admire Meghan’s style.

Dare I confess, I spent a few too many hours tracking down the Heidi Merrick silk halter dress she wore to a charity polo match last summer – only to find it had already sold out.

But it’s been an evolution for her.

Meghan Markle is, I believe, acutely aware of her own story. And she crafts it, in part, through the clothes she puts on her back.

Unveiling her As Ever range this week, the Duchess of Sussex posted an Instagram photo of her pre-teen self, proffering a box of Girl Scout cookies and dressed in what I first assumed was a Girl Scout uniform.

Personally, I admire Meghan’s style. Dare I confess, I spent a few too many hours tracking down the Heidi Merrick silk halter dress she wore to a charity polo match last summer (pictured) – only to find it had already sold out.

When Meghan arrived on the royal stage as Prince Harry’s girlfriend in 2016, she was a universe away from the Hollywood glamour that the then 36-year-old had tried to cultivate on the red carpet for her TV drama Suits.

The little-known actress suddenly had to dress for a role that didn’t come with a costume director.

No more metallic leather dresses from designer friend Misha Nonoo or little jacquard numbers from Dolce & Gabbana showing her enviable legs. Now, Meghan had to fit into a style template that had been pioneered with unflinching success by her soon-to-be sister-in-law, the Princess of Wales. 

Kate had been primed with an insider knowledge of how to dress for success by the time she married into the family in 2011, having had a bird’s-eye view of royal life for a decade as Prince William’s girlfriend.

She must have offered a hard-to-follow guide for any woman: especially for a California girl whose previous fashion forays included a collaboration with the luxury handbag designer Edie Parker to create a custom pearlized opal hue clutch emblazoned with the words ‘Ms Tig’, a glittering reference to her lifestyle blog.

For Meghan, clothing had once been a byproduct of self-made financial success. Now she found herself balancing the need for ‘relatability’ (essential for British royals) with her predilection for beautiful clothes.

Wafting between haute couture – such as the $75,000 Ralph & Russo gown she wore for her engagement photos in 2017 – and relatable high street gear, her message was mixed. It left few royal watchers with any understanding of who this unconventional duchess really was.

To my eye, nothing demonstrated her awkwardness more acutely than her one and only solo outing with the late Queen to the city of Chester in 2018.

Although she was demurely attired in a belted cream Givenchy dress and black Sarah Flint heels, Meghan notably broke with royal protocol by refusing to wear a hat. Her windswept hair seemed a telling metaphor for the unease that was reportedly beginning to stir behind palace walls. And that tension only continued, notably through her collaboration attempts with her wedding dress designer Clare Waight Keller.

No more metallic leather dresses from designer friend Misha Nonoo (pictured together in 2015) or little jacquard numbers from Dolce & Gabbana showing her enviable legs.

To my eye, nothing demonstrated her awkwardness more acutely than her one and only solo outing with the late Queen to the city of Chester in 2018 (pictured here). 

Where Kate continued to work closely with her bridal seamstress Sarah Burton, Meghan was veering from designer to designer as she appeared to be in search of a stylistic North star.

In the space of just six months in 2019, she went through a parade of Sentaler wrap coats, Caroline Herrera dresses and Gucci accessories. Lost in her clothes’ translation was any sense of the individual who lay beneath them.

Even after she hung up the emerald Emilia Wickstead cape she wore for her final Royal engagement in 2020 – a designer favored by the Princess of Wales – Meghan’s wardrobe continued to show the challenges of a post-Megxit lifestyle.

Like many women in a period of transition, her fashion fluctuated wildly. Take the $3,490 lemon-print Oscar de la Renta dress she wore while streaming a promotional video for Spotify in 2021. It seemed like an odd choice of ‘loungewear’ while sitting on her Montecito sofa.

Similarly, her outfits for the pseudo state visit she and Harry made to New York in September, 2024 – a parade of designer coats and cashmere apparel – were confusing choices given the sweltering heat of the city in late summer.

Or take her fleeting appearance at the Platinum Jubilee celebrations in Britain in 2022. Meghan eschewed any pretense at championing a local designer, opting instead for the glamour of Christian Dior. Yet, despite its immaculate tailoring, her stiff coatdress looked uncomfortable to me.

Fast forward three years, though, and Meghan seems to have thrown out the royal rulebook. Instead, she’s embraced California cool and reemerged in a blitz of self-promotional guises.

Farmer, gardener, chef, mother, entrepreneur… These latest incarnations have been tied together by an effortless and aspirational wardrobe (as showcased on her Netflix series ‘With Love, Meghan’) through which she seems to have found both confidence and comfort.

Kate had been primed with an insider knowledge of how to dress for success by the time she married into the family in 2011, having had a bird’s-eye view of royal life for a decade as Prince William’s girlfriend. (Kate and Meghan are pictured together in 2018). 

Like many women in a period of transition, her fashion fluctuated wildly. Take the $3,490 lemon-print Oscar de la Renta dress she wore in a promo video for Spotify in 2021 (pictured) . It seemed like an odd choice of ‘loungewear’ while sitting on her Montecito sofa.

Or take her fleeting appearance at the Platinum Jubilee celebrations in Britain in 2022. Meghan opted for the glamour of Christian Dior (pictured). Yet, despite its immaculate tailoring, her stiff coatdress looked uncomfortable to me.

Nothing demonstrates this better than the launch of her ‘ShopMy’ page last month, linking her followers with her wardrobe staples from brands such as Veronica Beard, Saint Laurent and even Gap.

It’s an astute strategy – allowing her to satisfy fans’ fashion craving while taking a cut of the proceeds herself – albeit a risky one as critics accuse her of ‘cashing in’ on her connections.

But, perhaps, her motive is more personal: suggesting a new level of assurance that she knows what she’s doing.

No doubt the stinging criticism will continue as Meghan’s every step is analyzed and judged, but whatever lies ahead it seems, at the very least, that the duchess has hit her stylistic stride and finally found her fashion way forward.