Vanity Fair Protects Beatrice and Eugenie While Smearing Meghan Sussex

Vanity Fair once prided itself on fearless reporting. Yet its recent editorial behavior tells a different story. After publishing a scathing, gossip-driven profile of Meghan Sussex and Prince Harry earlier this year, the magazine has now been accused of shielding Prince Andrew’s daughters from scrutiny. According to Semafor, editor-in-chief Mark Guiducci allegedly instructed staff to “go easy” on Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie because of his personal friendships with them. This double standard is striking. When it came to Meghan Sussex, the knives were out. When it came to the daughters of a disgraced royal accused of sexual assault and forced to settle out of court, the velvet gloves returned.

Vanity Fair’s Fall From Prestige to Partiality

The magazine’s January profile, titled American Hustle, was presented as a serious look at Meghan and Harry’s post-royal life. Instead, it relied on anonymous sources and well-worn tropes. It echoed the language of tabloids that have long targeted the Duchess, questioning her motives, amplifying old palace smears, and portraying ambition as manipulation. Even the New York Post and Daily Mail turned the piece into a tabloid feeding frenzy, quoting it to legitimize false claims about “divorce books” and “bullying.”

This wasn’t investigative reporting. It was image demolition dressed as journalism. The profile ignored verified facts about the Sussexes’ record of philanthropy, mental health advocacy, and global partnerships. Vanity Fair’s willingness to echo palace talking points proved how easily proximity to power corrodes editorial independence.

Months later, the magazine is now embroiled in a different kind of credibility crisis. When the subject shifted from Meghan to Beatrice and Eugenie, its editors suddenly discovered restraint.

The Beatrice and Eugenie Exception

Guiducci’s reported instruction to temper criticism of Andrew’s daughters reveals how privilege is preserved inside media institutions that claim to challenge it. According to Semafor, Guiducci personally questioned whether it was necessary to mention Beatrice and Eugenie in a piece about their father’s ties to Jeffrey Epstein. The references were softened before publication. The reasoning was personal friendship, an extraordinary admission for a publication that once called itself fearless.

“Five months into his tenure, and as Vanity Fair’s coverage of one of the great royal scandals of a generation reached its apex, editor Mark Guiducci had a message for his staff: Leave Prince Andrew’s children out of it.

The scandal in question was Prince Andrew’s relationship with Jeffrey Epstein, which last week cost him his royal title. In September, Vanity Fair wrote a story detailing new revelations around his ex-wife Sarah Ferguson’s correspondence with the disgraced financier. The draft of the story also mentioned Andrew’s adult daughters, known as Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie — who happen to be friends with Guiducci.

Guiducci… wanted to know if it was relevant to include the women in a piece about their father. In the end, the magazine only mentioned the princesses in passing.” – Semafor, “Exclusive / The new Vanity Fair’s one rule: Leave the princesses alone!” (Nov. 2, 2025)

This is the same magazine that dissected Meghan’s character from every angle, speculating on her temperament, ambition, and marriage. Yet when it came to two women tied by blood to a man stripped of royal titles for his relationship with a convicted sex offender, discretion suddenly became policy. The contrast exposes what truly drives editorial decisions: who editors know, not what readers deserve to know.

Vanity Fair’s current direction under Guiducci fits a pattern. Like other Condé Nast titles, it increasingly trades accountability for access. Coverage is curated for comfort, not clarity. Those inside elite networks are handled with care; those who challenge those networks are written as cautionary tales.

A Case Study in Media Hypocrisy

Vanity Fair’s protection of Princess Beatrice and Princess Eugenie is not an isolated decision. It reflects a deeper editorial culture that shields the privileged while targeting those who disrupt hierarchy. Meghan Sussex’s mere presence unsettled that order. Her mixed heritage and independence collided with centuries of royal convention. The media’s response was not curiosity but violent hostility, disguised as cultural commentary.

Now, as Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor loses public use of his remaining titles and faces disgrace over his ties to Jeffrey Epstein, the same magazine has reportedly instructed writers to “leave his daughters out of it.”

Yet public scrutiny of Beatrice and Eugenie is not without substance. They have faced legitimate questions about proximity and silence. Reports have resurfaced that Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell attended Beatrice’s 18th birthday in 2006, and leaked emails suggest the sisters visited Epstein’s New York home after his 2009 prison release. Critics question their judgment and their ongoing privileges, titles, housing, and security, despite Andrew’s disgrace. Eugenie’s anti-slavery charity, meanwhile, has been scrutinized for limited transparency, raising accusations of moral inconsistency. Some see it as PR designed to buffer her image amid her father’s ongoing controversies.

Vanity Fair’s decision to soften coverage underlines how access journalism has replaced accountability. When editors protect those within their social orbit while vilifying others, they reveal more about their allegiances than their ethics. Journalism, once a fearless profession to hold the powerful accountable, now performs deference, and the Yorks’ immunity from critique proves it.

Final Thoughts

Vanity Fair’s treatment of Meghan Sussex compared with its handling of Andrew’s daughters exposes a troubling hierarchy in media ethics. The same outlet that once ran a hostile, anonymously sourced piece attacking Princess Meghan now takes a gentler approach toward Eugenie and Beatrice. That contrast speaks volumes about who the press considers worthy of protection.

The pattern is impossible to ignore: scrutiny is harsher for women of color who disrupt royal norms, while empathy flows easily toward the white royals. What looks like editorial discretion is, in truth, the quiet maintenance of privilege. A magazine once known for holding power to account now appears complicit in preserving it.