It was May 19, 2018. A Saturday. Most people remember the dress or the way Prince Harry looked at Meghan Markle when she reached the altar at St George’s Chapel. But if you look back at the Harry and Meghan wedding now, it feels less like a fairytale and more like a massive cultural pivot point that we’re still trying to figure out. It wasn’t just a party for two rich people; it was a billion-dollar broadcast that promised a version of the British Royal Family that, for better or worse, doesn’t really exist anymore.
The energy was weirdly electric. You had 600 guests inside the chapel and literal tens of thousands of people lining the streets of Windsor. It cost an estimated £32 million, most of which went toward a security operation that involved snipers on rooftops and undercover officers in the crowd. People were crying. They were wearing Union Jack suits. It felt like the monarchy had finally figured out how to be cool.
The guest list that broke the internet
Usually, royal weddings are stuffed with diplomats and boring distant cousins from European principalities you’ve never heard of. Not this time. This was the Harry and Meghan wedding, so the pews were packed with Hollywood royalty.
- Oprah Winfrey was there, nearly wearing the wrong color dress until Stella McCartney saved the day at the last minute.
- Idris Elba was DJing later.
- Serena Williams brought the vibe of a global sports icon to a medieval stone chapel.
- George and Amal Clooney were just... there, looking perfect.
It was a collision of worlds. You had the traditional British establishment—people like the late Queen Elizabeth II and the then-Prince Charles—sitting across from the literal titans of American entertainment. It was the first real sign that the Sussexes weren’t going to play by the "Old Guard" rules. Looking back, that guest list was a manifesto. It said, "We are global stars, not just civil servants."
That sermon by Bishop Michael Curry
Everyone talks about the dress (Givenchy, designed by Clare Waight Keller, in case you forgot), but the real "did that just happen?" moment was the sermon. Bishop Michael Curry, the first African American leader of the Episcopal Church, got up and talked about the "Redemptive Power of Love" for 14 minutes.
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It was long. It was passionate. It was very, very un-British.
The cameras caught the reactions of the other royals, and honestly, some of them looked like they didn’t know where to put their faces. It was a massive departure from the stiff-upper-lip tradition of the Church of England. This wasn’t just a religious rite; it was a deliberate inclusion of Black homiletic tradition in the heart of the British establishment. It remains one of the most discussed moments of any royal event in the last century because it forced a conversation about race and modernization that the palace usually avoids.
The fashion: Simple, symbolic, and slightly controversial
Meghan’s dress was a bit of a shocker for people expecting lace and ruffles like Kate Middleton or Princess Diana. It was stark. Architectural. Some critics at the time said it was "too simple" or that the fit wasn't quite right around the bodice. But the veil was the real hero.
It was five meters long. Meghan requested that all 53 countries of the Commonwealth be represented in the embroidery. The designers spent hundreds of hours hand-sewing flowers into the silk tulle, and they had to wash their hands every thirty minutes to keep the thread pristine. It was a huge diplomatic gesture wrapped in fashion.
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Then there was the tiara. She wore the Queen Mary Diamond Bandeau, a piece that hadn't been seen in public for decades. Despite all the later rumors about "Tiara-gate" (the reports that Harry said "what Meghan wants, Meghan gets"), on the day, she looked like she belonged there. The contrast between the ancient diamonds and the clean, modern lines of the dress was the visual representation of what the Harry and Meghan wedding was supposed to be: a bridge between the old world and the new.
What people get wrong about the cost
You see the figure "£32 million" tossed around a lot. It’s important to be accurate here. The royal family paid for the "core" wedding aspects—the church service, the flowers, the food, and the music. The massive chunk of that bill? It was security.
That money didn't go to Meghan’s dress or the fancy lemon and elderflower cake (which was delicious-looking, by the way, made by Claire Ptak of Violet Cakes). It went to the Thames Valley Police and the military. When you have the world’s most famous people in one small town, the bill for keeping them alive is astronomical. It’s a public expense that comes with being a "working" royal, but it remains a huge point of contention for people who think the monarchy is an outdated drain on the taxpayer.
The shift in public perception
In 2018, the vibe was overwhelmingly positive. The "Fab Four"—Harry, Meghan, William, and Kate—were seen as the future of the firm. But if you watch the footage now, you can see the tiny cracks. The body language. The fact that Meghan walked herself halfway down the aisle because her father, Thomas Markle, couldn't make it after a series of very public, very messy paparazzi scandals.
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Prince Charles stepping in to walk her the rest of the way was a sweet moment, but it also signaled the family drama that was simmering just beneath the surface. We didn't know then that within two years, they would be stepping back as senior royals and moving to California. The wedding was the peak of the "Sussexmania" before the steep drop-off.
Practical takeaways for the history-obsessed
If you’re looking at the Harry and Meghan wedding as a case study in branding or history, there are a few things to keep in mind. First, it proved that the monarchy can adapt its aesthetic, but changing its internal culture is a much harder lift. Second, it showed the power of the "global celebrity" over the "local royal."
For those interested in the finer details, you can still visit Windsor Castle. St George’s Chapel is open to the public most days (except Sundays for services). Standing in that space gives you a sense of the scale—it’s much smaller in person than it looks on TV, which makes the presence of those A-list stars feel even more surreal.
If you want to understand the current state of the British Royal Family, you have to start here. This wedding was the last time the entire family—and the public—seemed to be on the same page. It was a day of genuine optimism. Whether that optimism was misplaced is something historians will be arguing about for the next fifty years.
To truly understand the impact of that day:
- Watch the Bishop Curry sermon in full. It’s the most authentic moment of the entire ceremony and explains the "clash of cultures" better than any tabloid article ever could.
- Look at the photography by Alexi Lubomirski. His portraits of the couple on the steps of the East Terrace are a masterclass in modernizing a 1,000-year-old brand.
- Compare the guest list to William and Catherine’s 2011 wedding. The difference in "vibe" explains exactly why the Sussexes eventually felt they didn't fit into the traditional royal mold.
The event wasn't just a marriage; it was a massive cultural experiment performed in front of nearly two billion people. It remains the most significant royal event of the 21st century because of what it promised—and what eventually fell apart.