Not Just Nostalgia: The Devil Wears Prada 2 Evolves

With expectations set sky high, The Devil Wears Prada 2 was one of the most anticipated sequels in years. The original film was iconic, essentially a microcosm of the fashion industry in 2006. The cerulean blue sweater monologue alone, delivered by Meryl Streep as Miranda Priestly to Anne Hathaway’s Andy Sachs (I watched that scene in one of my first Parsons classes about color theory), explained not only to Andy, but to all laymen to the industry, how fashion works and why magazines and tastemakers are so important, and is still referenced and adored to this day.

Personally, I went into the movie expecting something cute and nostalgic, with callbacks, familiar dynamics, and a storyline close to the original. I have to say, I was genuinely impressed.

Some sequels, especially ones with so much to live up to, lean too heavily on what worked the first time. They lean too heavily into the original ideas as buzz, keep characters frozen when in reality they would have changed, and recreate conflict in the exact same lens. This movie did not do that. It felt like a real story about real people, grounded in the current state of the industry. It is a love letter to fashion journalism and all the moving parts behind it.

The film avoids reducing its characters to their original archetypes. Andy Sachs is known as the “anti-fashion protagonist” in the original, but 20 years later, she is just a woman who is focused on her craft, with a true love for editorial and a tolerance for the fashion industry. Miranda, on the other hand, who was known as the “devil” in the first film, is still sharp, still exacting, but no longer positioned as an obstacle to overcome. And Nigel Kipling remains refreshingly consistent, focused on the craft itself rather than the noise surrounding it.

That is what makes one of his quietest moments stand out. When Andy is urgently telling him that Miranda is letting their departments collapse, that things are actively falling apart, Nigel barely engages. He just says, “I think I like the crossbody.” Nigel stays true to his position and his love for taste over everything going on around it. He knows his position and stubbornly and meekly just does that and strictly that.

What truly impressed me was the film’s fidelity to the current state of fashion journalism. It stays focused on the industry itself rather than trying to comment on everything around it. Instead, it hones in on what is keeping it alive, and what is threatening it.

The logistics of keeping Runway running in 2026 is everpresent throughout the film. In one of the first scenes of the movie, we meet Irv Ravitz, the well-dressed, taste-appreciating, fabulous and extremely wealthy owner of Runway. Alongside him, we meet his seemingly less relevant nepo-son, Jay. (In my head, I was thinking, why would B. J. Novak take such a small role!?). Everything seems to be going euphorically, until (spoiler alert), Irv tragically passes away at his own birthday party. This is where Jay comes in, as the athelesuire-wearing-everywhere nightmare that sees Runway as something not worth keeping around financially.

This is where I noticed the true antagonist of the movie. It is not Jay, nor Emily, nor Miranda. The concept is way more chilling and realistic. It is the dying interest in the industry that so many know and love, and the moving parts keeping it alive. The role that big investors play for publications is vital in keeping the industry alive. You can have a million Miranda Priestley’s, but without investors like Irv and Sasha, there would be no Runway.

The Devil Wears Prada 2 does something rare for a sequel. It does not try to recreate what once worked, or exaggerate it. It accepts that time has passed, that people have changed, and that the industry itself is on unstable ground. What it leaves you with is not nostalgia, but a sharper awareness of what it actually takes to keep something like Runway alive: the religion that is a “passion for fashion”. It sounds so cheesy, but the movie like this truly showcases how devotion drives our world.