The Romance of 'The Devil Wears Prada' Never Dies

The scene that the minute-long montage sets is familiar: The decisive clack of high heels on linoleum flooring, flashes of parties and accessory racks, and the infamous editor-in-chief Miranda Priestly beginning her morning at Runway Magazine. We see coworkers shy away from sharing an elevator with her in the original film, but here, her commute is interrupted – in walks her ex-emplogee and greatest disappointment, Andy Sachs. The several months that Sachs served as Priestly’s second assistant 20 years prior make up the plot of movie one, the ending of which sees her forsake the fashion world to take on a position in hard news journalism.

Their on-screen reunion left me wondering three things: Why did Andy grow out her bangs? What is she doing back at the Elias-Clark Offices? The Elias-Clark Offices still exist?

Although the iconic blunt bangs of Sachs’ transformation are absent — I get it, they’re a lot of work and I grew mine out last year — her sense of style is still abundant. Two decades in the newsroom don’t seem to have taken that out of her. When she steps into the elevator with Miranda, her look is timeless and official – What position of leadership has she climbed to today?

After departing Runway for a position at The New York Mirror, a more traditional newspaper, it is implied that Andy forsakes the grueling grindset of the magazine to pursue her original dream – an door opened by the dues she paid while working under Miranda. When hashing out the film with others, it’s always an interesting litmus test to discuss whether Andy’s sacrifices to her role were worth it, and it speaks volumes about one's preferred work ethic and values.

Like its predecessors 13 Going on 30 and How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, The Devil Wears Prada hits squarely to me as a “Dream Job” movie. It came to me late enough in life where I already knew I wanted to pursue a career in media, but it put the way I hope to get there in perspective. Being in college, I’m not saying I’m not mature enough to recognize the obscenity of Andy being at Miranda’s beck and call 24/7, but I’d be lying if I said that the film didn’t grant me a shot of journalistic ambition upon every rewatch.

Whenever I’m hit with a bout of writer’s block, Nigel’s monologue about taking your position and beat seriously comes to mind and propels me across the byline finish line.

The movie is such a relic of the time, and not just because it tried to convince us that Anne Hathaway was overweight or that her pre-makeover sense of style would not precede the easy, breezy menswear looks currently taking NYC by storm.

It dates itself because the journalistic environment it romanticizes – in which a magazine executive can afford to employ two full time assistants – hardly exists anymore. As I continue my foray into the media world, new truths and realities reveal themselves to me: You’re more likely to parse a spring magazine issue online than in-print, social media is a necessary evil for writers to thrive and the journalists I look up to most are likely writing not from company quarters but their own homes.

It’s for this reason that the return of Miranda Priestly to the Elias-Clark offices, “The Book” in hand and as analog as ever, excites me. The timeless glass castle of the Runway offices will forever remain my dream house. Surely, Miranda Priestly will handle it with her signature, literal by-the-book methodology. I like watching her exercise her ruthless ambition because she represents the job monster we sometimes hope to become.

Eleanor Jacobs is PAPER's Fall 2025 Intern

Image via Getty