The Aussies clinging to Harry & Meghan are the worst part of this tour,
I owe you an apology for my radio silence this week – I’ve been rather sick. A pounding headache caused by all my eye-rolling and waves of nausea so violent that I had to keep a bucket by my side.
My diagnosis? A contagious condition I’m calling ‘Royal Repulsion’ – triggered by a virus going around this week. It’s brought on by the ludicrous spectacle unfolding across Australia: a parade of local identities paying homage to Prince Harry and Meghan Markle on their ‘privacy tour’ of our great sunburnt land.
It’s been utterly unbearable. But before I go on, let me make two things clear.
Firstly, say what you want about me – and I’ve heard it all – but I am not a suck-up. If I don’t like someone, you’ll know it. I don’t care how rich, famous or socially connected you are, I’m not going to morph into a simpering fangirl for the sake of a photo or a fleeting brush with relevance.
Secondly, and this may surprise you, this column isn’t even a slur on Harry and Meghan. Nothing they’ve done so far this tour has been especially egregious. They are behaving exactly as you would expect them to, with their predictable photo ops and Meghan’s usual ‘I’m just like you!’ speeches to gaggles of fawning women.
No, it wasn’t the Sussexes who inspired me to pick up my poison pen.
Instead, it was the contingent of grinning Aussies, who this week reinvented themselves as Hazza and Meg’s most ardent ‘cheer squad’, that truly tested my patience.
Seeing them slink up to the Montecito exiles, among the sea of supporters clinging to them like molluscs, has frankly made me queasy.
Some people, it seems, have completely lost their minds over the royal couple.
Scroll through Instagram and you’ll find the pictures, the gushing captions, the giddy excitement, the eye-rolling hashtag #sussexroyal.
And the ones who have met them in person have been gushing about how ‘kind’ and ‘authentic’ the couple are. Authentic? Pull the other one. You met them at a private, toffee-nosed event with champagne, smiles and name tags. Hardly keeping it real.
Now, in no particular order, here are my top three contenders for royal orbiter of the week. I’m sure I’ll make a few enemies saying this, but someone bloody has to.
1. Gemma O’Neill
Gemma. Oh, dear. I hate to kick a dog when it’s down…
Look, I have nothing against Gemma personally. And I like her star client and ‘bestie’ Jackie ‘O’ Henderson enormously.
Plus, I know she’s had a rough trot lately, what with her business going bust and owing thousands to the taxman.
But seriously, darl. You’ve turned fawning over Megs into a personality trait.
Who could forget the video she posted gushing to her thousands of followers that she’d just come off a Zoom with Meghan, and that it was so ‘real’, that Megs was ‘so divine, so beautiful…’
Pass the bucket.
Conveniently, she switched off the comments so I couldn’t let her know what I thought – so I’ll say it here.
Gemma, I figure you’re trying to make some coin out of this ‘Her Best Life’ retreat (which is happening as I write this) but did you really have to lay it on so bloody thick with your celebrity mate?
Especially given that she ended up spending all of *checks notes* two hours at your retreat before hightailing it out of there to catch a rugby game with Harry.
2. Paul Dowsley
I’m not one to poke fun at a fellow journo – unless it’s the ‘Bingle Bungler’ Sally Bowrey – but I can’t miss this opportunity to have a dig at another Channel Seven reporter, Paul Dowsley, who literally tripped over himself to take a selfie with Harry.
Come on, mate, be professional! While rule #1 of reporting is getting their names right (eh, Sal?), surely rule #2 is to be an actual journalist, not a simpering fan!
It’s cringe with a capital C.
3. The Wipflis
This is where I’m really going to rub people the wrong way.
Maybe it says more about me than it does about them, but I couldn’t help but wince to see Nova radio host and Scotch College old boy Michael ‘Wippa’ Wipfli and his socialite wife, Lisa, hobnobbing with the Sussexes as if they were old friends.
The event in question was the Nexus Summit, hosted by lawyer Amanda Smorgon in her Melbourne home.
While few would turn down an invitation involving royalty, watching the function double as yet another victory lap for Wippa – following his successful campaign to keep teens off social media – did make me think: ‘Someone’s angling for an Order of Australia, aren’t they?’
Indeed, Wippa posted (and his wife reposted) a photo of him solemnly conversing with the King’s second son alongside the earnest caption: ‘Great talking @36months and digital wellbeing for kids.’
Now, I’ll be fair here: 36 Months, Wippa’s initiative to keep under-16s off social media, is a worthy cause that I broadly agree with.
But it seems that changing Australian legislation isn’t quite enough. Apparently, Wippa is after a royal seal of approval as well.
And while she was there, Wippa’s wife also didn’t miss out on her chance for a selfie with the Duchess.
I’ll choose my words carefully here, but it’s not exactly secret that Lisa’s star has risen stratospherically in the last few years.
I chuckled to myself as I recalled how she was recently a guest at the lavish birthday party of Aussie Home Loans heiress Deborah Symond-O’Neil, alongside the likes of Pilates instructor Bernadette Sukkar and PR guru Montarna McDonald.
(That Wuthering Heights-themed bash was held in Deb’s $21million mansion and featured a butter swan centrepiece that cost $1,500. Some of us can scarcely afford a tub of Western Star these days…)
It dawned on me that Deb, Bernie and the rest are practically commoners next to Hazza and Megs. Oh, Lisa – you really have made it!
Look, I could go on and list every single local schleb who posted a Sussex selfie with a gushing caption, but I fear the headache is returning.
The only saving grace is that, by the time you read this, Harry and Meghan will be packing up and heading back to California – that global citadel of privacy.
Their fan club, alas, will remain behind – quite possibly sharpening their pitchforks and coming for me…
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