Meghan Markle’s latest image problem contains a strange contradiction: sometimes the stories causing the damage are explicitly denied, yet the denial itself keeps Meghan at the center of another news cycle.

That is exactly what happened with David Foster.

A brief red-carpet clip appeared to show the legendary music producer walking past Prince Harry and Meghan. Online speculation quickly transformed the moment into another supposed celebrity “snub.” Foster then publicly explained that there had been no awkward interaction at all.

Normally, that should end the story.

Instead, according to an opinion column by Emily Wright in the Daily Express, the fact that such a trivial moment required a public clarification may reveal a broader problem surrounding Meghan’s post-royal image.

The issue is no longer simply whether a feud is real. It is why so many ordinary interactions involving Meghan can become stories requiring explanations.

David Foster denied the snub — clearly

The latest controversy emerged from a charity gala in Canada held by David Foster’s foundation.

Harry and Meghan attended, and a short clip showing the 76-year-old producer walking past the Sussexes circulated online. Some viewers interpreted the footage as evidence that Foster was deliberately ignoring Meghan.

Foster rejected that interpretation.

He explained that he had already greeted Harry and Meghan backstage, describing them as his “dear friends.” He was simply moving into position for a photograph when the viral moment occurred.

Foster said:

“Anyone watching can see there was no awkward moment, and certainly no snub.”

That clarification is important.

There is no basis in Foster’s account for claiming that he intentionally humiliated Meghan.

But Wright’s criticism begins precisely there. She argues that the embarrassing element is not Foster supposedly rejecting Meghan. It is that an internationally famous producer had to publicly explain such a minor interaction in the first place.

The cycle may matter more than the original story

The pattern described in the column is remarkably simple.

An ambiguous moment occurs. Social media interprets it negatively. A “feud” or “snub” narrative develops. Someone involved responds. The response generates another wave of headlines.

Instead of disappearing, the original rumor receives a second life.

That creates a peculiar PR trap.

Ignore a false narrative and people may assume it is true. Correct it and the correction may give the story additional attention.

For someone as closely watched as Meghan, almost any ordinary celebrity interaction can potentially enter this cycle.

Wright asks:

“How did we get to a point where a simple exchange of pleasantries requires a crisis-management team?”

The language is deliberately provocative, but the underlying question is worth considering.

Then there was Martha Stewart

David Foster was not an isolated example in Wright’s argument.

Only days earlier, Martha Stewart became part of another Meghan-related story after making casual remarks about attending the same dinner party as the Duchess.

Stewart reportedly recalled Meghan discussing her visit to see King Charles.

What happened afterward is what interested Wright.

Counter-reports quickly appeared, with “anonymous party hosts” reportedly disputing Stewart’s recollection of what happened that evening.

Again, the original issue was comparatively minor.

Whether Meghan discussed a royal visit during a dinner party would ordinarily seem unlikely to require a prolonged public debate. Yet competing versions of the evening became another celebrity news story.

Placed beside the Foster incident, Wright sees a pattern: small moments involving Meghan repeatedly escalate into situations where somebody feels compelled to clarify what really happened.

Meghan may be trapped by the attention surrounding her

There is an important distinction here.

The column does not establish that Meghan personally ordered every denial or planted every counter-report. Nor does Foster’s statement support the original claim that he snubbed her.

The reputational problem is therefore more complicated than simply accusing Meghan of manufacturing drama.

She may also be trapped inside it.

Once every facial expression, red-carpet movement or dinner conversation becomes potentially meaningful, Meghan’s celebrity itself creates an environment in which mundane events can generate extraordinary scrutiny.

But Wright argues that constantly engaging with those narratives only makes the entire operation appear increasingly “touchy.”

To her, when A-listers are explaining where they walked on a red carpet and anonymous hosts are reportedly correcting dinner-party conversations, the overall impression begins to resemble “desperation.”

That is Wright’s interpretation rather than an independently established fact, but it leads to the central argument of her column.

Meghan left one institution — but not public scrutiny

Wright frames the situation through what she sees as an irony in Meghan’s post-royal life.

Meghan left royal duties amid a desire for greater privacy and peace, eventually establishing a new life in Montecito.

Yet Wright argues that she has exchanged the relentless attention of royal life for another kind of attention: celebrity drama.

In particularly harsh language, the columnist says Meghan has swapped the monarchy for a “cheap celebrity circus” and turned her post-royal existence into “a permanent soap opera.”

The wording is clearly opinionated.

Still, the contrast raises an interesting point. Leaving the Royal Family may have changed the institution surrounding Meghan, but it did not remove the extraordinary level of interest in her relationships, behavior and social interactions.

Hollywood simply created different kinds of stories.

The danger is becoming known for the reaction

Wright argues that repeated stories about “petty rivalries,” “perceived snubs” and public clarifications do not make Meghan appear like a “global power player.”

Instead, she says they risk making her look like a “magnet for drama.”

That distinction may be the real reputational danger.

A celebrity does not necessarily need to cause controversy to become associated with controversy. If enough headlines repeatedly connect that person to feuds and denials, the pattern itself can eventually become part of the public image.

The Foster episode demonstrates the unfairness — and the power — of that mechanism.

Foster says there was no snub.

Yet Meghan still ends up in another story about being snubbed.

Perhaps the most powerful response is no response

Wright’s proposed solution is surprisingly simple: silence.

She argues that “true A-listers” do not require weekly explanations of “who smiled at whom in front of the cameras.”

Instead, she believes:

“silence and quiet grace are far more powerful than endless public rebuttals.”

Whether that strategy would actually stop speculation is debatable. Silence can also allow false narratives to spread unchecked.

But Wright identifies a genuine paradox within celebrity PR.

Not every false story deserves oxygen.

And when every perceived slight generates a correction, the public may eventually remember the controversy more clearly than the correction.

That could be the real lesson of the David Foster episode. Meghan was apparently not snubbed at all.

Yet somehow, she still became the center of another story about being snubbed.