Smile! The making of an Insta-royal machine
They already have nearly 3m followers, but what is the Sussexes’ social media feed really trying to say, asks Eleanor Steafel
Never before has an Instagram caption been so loaded. On Tuesday afternoon, the Kensington Palace account posted this seemingly innocuous announcement: “Welcome to Instagram @Sussexroyal! Follow @Sussexroyal for more on the work of The Duke and Duchess of Sussex. Follow @Kensingtonroyal for more on the work of The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.” And lo, the division of the households of Sussex and Cambridge was complete. We knew they would no longer share a team of advisers, aides and press officers. But a split of their social media accounts sealed the deal. @Sussexroyal entered the social media stratosphere with a post that was, frankly, peak Harry and Meghan.
A series of pictures – or a carousel, to the seasoned Instagrammer – kicked them off, hitting all those classic Sussex notes: first there’s the snap of them being playful with some smiling children; then there they are on a boat, looking chic and sporty, wearing shades; oh look, now Harry’s togged up in his military gear like a scruffy action man (he does look good in camo, though, doesn’t he?); and there’s Meghan hugging some teenage girls, before the final snap – the trademark sexy black-and-white, backs turned, us-againstthe-world shot. “We look forward to sharing the work that drives us, the causes we support, important announcements, and the opportunity to shine a light on key issues.” And the nearly 3 million followers they have already accrued – they broke the record for surpassing the million mark within seven hours – will no doubt hang on every post.
It’s not just the big players who are good value on Instagram: peripheral royals (debatably) earn their keep through topless beach shots, as per 20-year-old Arthur Chatto and his 137,000 followers. Lady Amelia Windsor’s account is a lesson in how to be a woke, fashionforward royal, with a careful balance of posts about feminist filmmakers, refugees and semi-topless selfies.
But the real theatre lies within the accounts of their European counterparts. The Greeks are particularly good fun – 22-yearold Princess Olympia’s feed is just endless selfies of her preposterously fabulous life. Draped across furniture in dramatic ballgowns, artful shots of sumptuous meals and “candid” holiday shots aplenty, the sixth in line to the throne seems to have absolutely no self-awareness whatsoever. Her name on Instagram is actually “Olympia of Greece”. (I have considered changing mine to Eleanor of Streatham, though I’m not sure it has quite the same ring.)
By comparison the Swedes are, well, very Swedish. Prince Carlphilip and Princess Sofia’s account, which has 184,000 followers, features lots of snowy forests, endless blue eyes and many a bonnet (apparently national dress). Mette-marit, Crown Princess of Norway, adopts a similar Insta-attitude. Her 188,000 followers are regularly presented with alpine shots of the family at large, which includes her eldest son, Marius – the “accidental prince”, who was four when his mother married Haakon, the country’s heir apparent. Now 22 and “Norway’s most eligible royal”, his own Instagram account, in which he describes himself as a “pirate”, is mainly hipster images of him cavorting with glamorous women (or dogs) while looking brooding, which goes down a treat with his 50,000 followers.
The Belgians take a more buttoned-up approach: there is one official royal channel, which shows mostly men in suits getting off planes or attending conferences. And in Monaco, Princess Charlene’s official account (122,000 followers) proves that snaps of cherubic blond children are social media catnip: formerly a paean to her charitable endeavours in countries from South Africa to India, her feed now mostly features images of her and Prince Albert’s twins eating petit fours or birthday cake, some of which have upwards of 20,000 likes.
Back on home turf, family matters are popular Insta-fodder for Fergie
(who recently broadcast a picture of herself leading a camel through the desert in 15-denier tights to 189,000 people…) and the rest of the Yorks, too. Indeed, their accounts exhibit an array of throwback snaps of the clan: “So proud of Andrew, Eugenie and Jack today.” “So proud of my girls,” are firm Fergie favourites. As well as endless nostalgic shots of the princesses as little girls in Nineties dresses with unbearably gushy captions: “#tbt to cheeky smiles and scrunchies with my sister”. “My beautiful
And lo, the division of the households of Sussex and Cambridge was complete
big sissy!”; “90s flashback with Bea and parents”. You get the gist.
Royal Instagram accounts are more than just a publicity vehicle, after all – they are an excellent barometer of palace politics. It was clear on Tuesday that there had been a three-line whip to direct followers from all the pre-existing accounts to the Sussexes, with Princess Eugenie and the Duke of York posting welcome messages. The real question, of course, is whether @sussexroyal and @kensingtonroyal will now go head to head in the great battle for likes. The Cambridges are keeping the old account, so they have an unfair advantage, with 7.3 million followers already in the bag. But you can only imagine that as soon as the Sussexes’ page begins to be populated with baby pictures, their following will go through the roof.
Will Meghan and Harry actually do any posting themselves? Or will it all be perfectly curated content? If Meghan hadn’t signed up for royal life, she would probably have morphed into an Insta-mum. Her now-defunct lifestyle brand, The Tig (RIP), made her a prime candidate for deft product placement and cosy sofa selfies – presumably her secret private account (we assume she has one) will be all baby yoga this, brunch with my #Momsquad that.
Whether decoratively placed avocados start appearing on their feed remains to be seen. Though doing the whole being-a-royalon-social-media thing their way would be, in truth, very “Sussex” indeed.