In a move that has beauty enthusiasts and royal watchers buzzing with excitement, Meghan Markle, has announced plans to launch her very own makeup brand. With her impeccable sense of style, natural elegance, and commitment to authenticity, Meghan is about to bring a fresh perspective to the beauty industry.
In a recent trademark application for her lifestyle brand, American Riviera Orchard, it’s been revealed that Meghan is expanding her brand to include cosmetics and beauty products, signaling her intent to carve a niche in the beauty industry.
But the news of Meghan Markle’s venture into the cosmetics world comes as no surprise to those who have followed her journey. Even before her days in the royal spotlight, Meghan has always been an advocate of natural beauty and self-expression. From her early acting career to her philanthropic endeavors, Meghan has consistently emphasized the importance of feeling confident in one’s own skin.
Among the beauty products listed in the trademark application are fragrance sachets, skin care preparations, bath and shower gels, hair care products, body creams, cosmetics, and more. From indulgent bath oils to rejuvenating body lotions, Meghan’s brand promises to deliver a sensorial experience that embodies her spirit of self-care and self-expression.
Meghan’s venture into the beauty industry comes at a time when consumers are increasingly seeking authenticity, sustainability, and inclusivity in the products they purchase. By using her platform and influence, Meghan has the opportunity to shape the future of beauty and make a positive impact on the lives of individuals around the world.
Preview photo credit Archewell/Ferrari Press/East News, Bobbi Brown Cosmetics / Facebook
I Came Home from Vacation to Find a Huge Hole Dug in My Backyard – I Wanted to Call the Cops until I Saw What Was at the Bottom
When I cut short our vacation due to Karen falling ill, the last thing I expected was to find a massive hole in our backyard upon returning home. Initially alarmed, I hesitated when I spotted a shovel inside, leading me into an unexpected adventure involving buried treasure, newfound friendship, and lessons in life’s true values.
Karen and I rushed back from the beach early after she fell ill. Exhausted but wary, I decided to check the house’s perimeter before settling in. That’s when I stumbled upon the gaping pit in our lawn.
“What’s this?” I muttered, approaching cautiously.
At the bottom, amid scattered debris, lay a shovel. My first instinct was to call the police, but then I considered the possibility that the digger might return, knowing we were supposed to be away.
Turning to Karen, who looked unwell, I suggested keeping the car hidden in the garage to maintain the appearance of absence.
As night descended, I kept vigil by a window, watching and waiting. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a shadow vaulting over our fence.
Heart pounding, I ventured out with my phone ready to call the authorities. Approaching the pit, I heard the clink of metal on earth.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, shining my phone’s light into the hole. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The figure looked up, squinting. My jaw dropped—it was George, the previous owner of our house.
“Frank?” he stammered, equally surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, remember?” I retorted. “What are you doing in my yard in the middle of the night?”
George climbed out, looking sheepish. “I can explain. Just… please don’t involve the police.”
Arms folded, I demanded an explanation.
“My grandfather owned this place,” George began, “and I recently discovered he hid something valuable here. I thought I’d dig it up while you were away.”
“You broke into my yard to hunt for treasure?” I couldn’t believe it.
“I know how it sounds,” George pleaded, “but it’s true. Help me dig, and we’ll split whatever we find.”
Despite my better judgment, I agreed. Over hours of digging, we shared stories, George revealing his hardships—a lost job and his wife’s illness. His hope for this treasure to change their lives touched me.
As dawn approached, our optimism dwindled with each shovel of dirt revealing nothing but rocks and roots.
“I was so sure…” George’s disappointment was palpable.
Offering a ride home, we filled the pit and drove to his house, where his wife, Margaret, greeted us anxiously.
“George! Where have you been?” Margaret exclaimed, eyeing me curiously.
Explaining the situation, George’s dream of buried treasure was deflated by Margaret’s reality check.
“My grandfather’s tales were just that—stories,” she gently reminded him.
Apologizing, George and Margaret offered to repair our yard. I declined, suggesting they join us for dinner instead.
Driving home, I shared the night’s escapade with Karen, who teased me about my unusual night with a stranger. Reflecting on our conversation, I proposed inviting George and Margaret for dinner—an unexpected outcome from a night of digging for imaginary treasure.
As I assessed the yard in daylight, I realized life’s treasures aren’t always what we seek but the connections we forge along the way.
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