Everyone, gird your loins: Miranda Priestly has officially returned. The long-awaited sequel for one of fashion’s most emblematic films has finally arrived, inviting the audience back into the glamorous world of Runway.
20 years on and the magazine still runs a tight ship, maintained by the familiar diligence of its editorial hierarchy. Razor-sharp, unforgiving Miranda still stands at the top, with Stanley Tucci’s dear Nigel steadily by her side. Her first assistant Amari, played by Simone Ashley, is always ten steps ahead, while second assistant Charlie sits in silent suffering tied to his desk, much like Andy Sachs did all those years ago under the hawk eye of Emily Charlton.
Naturally, the outfits play a role of their own. It’s a sartorial feast from the moment Miranda makes her grand entrance in that striking red Valentino number, while her chic Prada cat-eye sunglasses cements its status as an essential accessory. Nobody pulls off an all-black look better than Andy, playing with accessories and textures on her whirlwind trip to Milan. As the head of retail at Dior, it’s only natural for Emily to follow the maison’s tailored codes, making it her own with her ginger tresses and a rebellious edge. And then there are the understated style icons—the assistants. Amari’s workwear rotation has quietly climbed to the top of my wishlist, and it’s clear Jin Chao, Andy’s assistant, has perfected the preppy chic look.
Two decades on and much has changed since the first film. While the first instalment was an insider’s perspective of the elusive world of fashion and those who control it, the sequel shows just how much it’s evolved since then. Runway print copies have dwindled in numbers, content is swiftly adapted for social media, and readership has become a mere numbers game. Throughout the film, Miranda tackles relevant issues that those in the industry are all too familiar with—management changing hands, budget cuts, advertiser demands, AI ethics, and the biggest question of all: is journalism dead?
Leave it to Andy Sachs to lead the Runway troupe fighting against that. It’s only been upwards for her since tossing her phone into the Paris fountain—she moves to Boston and becomes a ‘real’ journalist, winning a slew of awards for her poignant stories. Alas, a huge career blow eventually leads her right to doorstep of Runway once more, only this time as features editor, hired to scale back a controversial scandal that marks the beginning of the end. Throw in out-of-touch billionaires, knife-deep betrayal and a risky phone call or two, and you’ve got yourself a disaster that Andy finds herself right in the middle of. Though she’s softened around the edges, trust that all is well within control under Miranda’s ironclad fist.
Watching The Devil Wears Prada 2 felt like a trip down memory lane. Much of the joy feels rooted in nostalgia. I indulged in the reunion of the main cast, eagerly re-entering the Runway world. Seeing Nigel back in the sample closet, hearing Miranda’s scathing remarks in her signature quiet, deliberate tone, and Emily’s reluctant affection towards Andy made me fall in love with the movie all over again. It instantly took me back to my younger days watching the original film for the very first time, entertaining innocent dreams of my own future career in a world as enthralling as the world of Runway. Now a Vogue writer, watching the sequel feels serendipitous, and it made me realise how much I have grown since the first.
For the unacquainted, The Devil Wears Prada may seem like just another film. Creating a sequel 20 years later seemed like a farfetched idea with little margin for error. Considering the cultural impact of the first, the second certainly had seemingly impossible shoes to fill. While nothing beats the cult fervour of the original, the sequel is landing squarely in a time when the industry is facing a reckoning: where does journalistic integrity go in a time when it seems like all we do is reduced to ‘content’, for people who don’t admire beauty but scroll past it? In times like these, we can relate to all of the returning characters. Nigel’s seeming acceptance and action in the shadows; Emily’s ruthlessness; Andy’s desperation to act. As for the devil herself? Does she let be and let go—or seize control again? She is Miranda Priestly, after all. In times like these, there’s a sore need for people who still believe in the dying art of journalism—and what the folks who came back for this sequel knew was a fact simple enough. Nothing evokes hope quite like a feel-good film.
Watch The Devil Wears Prada 2 in cinemas from 30 April.
