There is a generation that takes unpaid internships, invests hours into building a personal brand and chases a dream that feels equally urgent for every individual. Twenty years after the original, director David Frankel returns with the long-awaited sequel to The Devil Wears Prada and it immediately clarifies that the media world has fundamentally shifted.
The response to this change, however, is not to discard the past, but to watch it collide with the present. The real tension of the film lies in the renewed dynamic between the iconic trio: Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep), still the formidable head of Runway, Emily Charlton (Emily Blunt), now a high-powered executive and Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway).
Classic standards of old-school discipline meet the chaotic energy of digital innovation. Somewhere in between, a shared passion for storytelling and cultural relevance emerges. Miranda’s life remains the ultimate blueprint for power: the creative freedom, the front-row seats at Milan Fashion Week and the chauffeured rides.
From the outside, it looks like the pinnacle of “fun work.” But the film strips away the gold-plated surface to reveal the exhausting reality of constant performance. Is it a contradiction to crave this intensity? Or are we willingly buying into a beautiful illusion?
While the sequel captures the polished visuals of the original, it deepens the emotional stakes. In a standout scene set during a runway show to Lady Gaga in Venice, the film hits its peak. It’s not just about the clothes, it’s about that visceral pull, the feeling of “that’s where I want to be.”
Yet, the screenplay remains grounded in the harsh math of the industry. For every “chosen one” at the top, there are thousands who sacrifice stability without ever reaching the front row.
Interestingly, the film chooses to ignore the elephant in the newsroom: AI and the automation of creative jobs. By omitting this, Frankel creates a nostalgic, almost defiant fantasy. He frames journalism not as a data-driven industry, but as a battlefield of personal taste and human intuition. This is most evident in Miranda herself, Streep portrays a woman who in the twilight of her career admits to missing her children’s upbringing, a rare moment of vulnerability that proves even the highest price tag has its limits.
The Devil Wears Prada 2 doesn’t aim to surpass the original’s cult status, instead, it acts as a mirror for our own ambitions. It doesn’t just inspire, it asks us to define what “making it” actually means in 2026.
All Photography by Andrew White and Sam Bates of Indie Studios
Is it the exclusive party, or is it the first moment of truly belonging? By the time the credits roll, the film settles on a surprisingly grounded note. We don’t toast to the unreachable dream, but to the reality of the hustle. “To paying the rent.” Because whether you are a Miranda or an Andy, that is the one thing we can all relate to.
CREDITS
Photography Andrew White and Sam Bates of Indie Studios
Model Harriet Longhurst with Next Models
Produced Paolo Lombardo of Never Seen
Art direction Sam Bates of Indie Studios
Hair and makeup Juliet Jane wardrobe
Stylist Laila Abdul – Azizi