Meghan Sussex kicked off 2026 with a limited‑edition leather bookmark from her As Ever brand, stamped with the words “Fell asleep here” in her own handwriting. Handmade in Britain, priced at $18 (£13.40), and sold out within an hour, it was a quiet triumph of craft and wit. Book lovers buzzed, monarchists scoffed.
Of course royal commentators don’t “get” it. They’re used to covering a family that treats books like suspicious foreign objects. In Spare, Harry recalls that William and Kate admitted they weren’t readers. Imagine trying to explain the concept of a bookmark to people who think “turning a page” means crisis-managing the latest royal scandal.
For royal commentators, the majority of whom are from Britain’s elite, wholesome hobbies are blood sports, ski trips, and Caribbean holidays. Reading? That’s for the peasants who don’t get invited on Prince Andrew’s “straightforward” shooting weekends. Why bother with novels when you can bag a stag? Why bother with poetry when you can pose for the society pages in Hello!?
So when Meghan designs a witty, sustainable bookmark, commentators are aghast. And still insist on treating selling out a product in minutes as a sign of failure. Perhaps they expected her to launch a fox‑hunting flask or a tiara‑polishing kit instead.
William and Kate’s aversion to books actually explains a lot. If you don’t read, you don’t need bookmarks. If you don’t read, you don’t need to worry about inconvenient facts. And if you don’t read, you can happily believe your hobbies - blood sports and luxury holidays - are the pinnacle of British culture.
Meghan’s bookmark is more than a product. It’s a sly wink at readers everywhere, a nod to the joy of falling asleep mid‑chapter. It’s also a reminder that creativity and literacy are thriving outside the Palace gates. The royals may not “get” it, but the public clearly does.