Why we still love The Devil Wears Prada, 20 years on

The Devil Wears Prada’s Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) has become a mythic cinematic character. The magazine editor is icy, commanding, manipulative, cruel, oddly sympathetic and endlessly imitated.

Streep’s portrayal was surprisingly inspired by the quiet authority of powerful men such as Clint Eastwood. Her Miranda is soft but steely, controlled rather than overtly theatrical.

The trailer for The Devil Wears Prada 2 proudly proclaims “Icons Reign Forever”. This certainly holds true for the original film, 20 years later.

The film still feels urgent

Set at Runway Magazine – a stand-in for Vogue – The Devil Wears Prada tells a timeless story saturated with workplace toxicity, psychological manipulation, burnout culture and the quiet tyranny of demanding bosses.

In a glamorous New York setting, the 2006 film features a strong four-hander character structure. We have the coming-of-age for Andy (Anne Hathaway); the fierce professional ambition of Emily (Emily Blunt); the thwarted loyalty of Nigel (Stanley Tucci); the devastating private unravelling of Miranda.

The tension between ambition and personal values has only intensified in the two decades since the film’s release, as evident by 2022’s “quiet quitting” movement, transforming The Devil Wears Prada into an emblematic snapshot of modern working life.

Miranda also highlights a set of cultural debates that remain stubbornly unresolved: is she a cruel boss or simply uncompromising? Would anyone object to her leadership style if she were a man? Does Andy ultimately betray her own values, or reaffirm them?

The absence of definitive answers is precisely what has kept the film alive in the public consciousness. The film sheds light on the brutality of professional hierarchies in ways that feel even more urgent now than they did in 2006.

Fashion as character

Thanks largely to the work of costume designer Patricia Field (whose work for Sex and the City was legendary), along with actual runway show footage, fashion titan Valentino playing himself, and clothing and accessories loaned by iconic fashion houses, The Devil Wears Prada is the preeminent film about fashion to have captured the public imagination.

Many still consider the cerulean speech, partly devised by Streep, the most incisive piece of fashion-industry commentary ever committed to screen. Its deadpan delivery demystifies fashion’s power structure while simultaneously validating it, showing how consumer choice is largely an illusion.

(Streep even donned) the famous cerulean jumper in Prada 2 interviews.)

The original film portrayed fashion’s glamour and excess as simultaneously dazzling and damning.

But the eager return of fashion houses including Dior, Lanvin, Fendi, Gucci, Jean Paul Gaultier and Prada in the forthcoming sequel demonstrates the industry regards The Devil Wears Prada as a vehicle of genuine cultural prestige.

Even Vogue is getting in on the act by having its retiring editor Anna Wintour appearing on the May 2026 cover with her Priestly/Streep doppelganger.

An online life of its own

The Devil Wears Prada has benefited enormously from the explosion of social media.

Scenes have developed independent lives entirely detached from the film itself: Andy’s makeover montage; the devastating “that’s all” retort; Miranda’s icy side-eye; the coat on the desk.

These moments are endlessly played, memed, and reimagined.

The film’s quotability is inseparable from its longevity.

The Devil Wears Prada was more than a chick flick. Not quite a dramedy, not quite a workplace comedy, nor a satire, romance, coming-of-age story or comedy of manners — it draws confidently on the conventions of all of these.

This deliberate blurring of genres encourages repeated viewings.

The film is light enough for casual viewing, yet rich enough for serious analysis of its feminist credentials. Some argue it presents an essentially conservative message, warning women against unchecked ambition and reinforcing the idea that they must prioritise their personal lives and moral purity over professional power. Others contend the film links female empowerment with consumerism and individual choice, framing this as a form of agency for women.

This ambiguity in the film’s ideological positioning has contributed to its continued popularity.

When Miranda asks, “Is it impossible to find a lovely, slender, female paratrooper? Am I reaching for the stars here? Not really!” is she a model of a woman holding her own in a male-dominated industry, or is she complicit in perpetuating the very beauty standards that oppress women?

The film refuses to decide.

You watch The Devil Wears Prada very differently depending on your mood, age or job. The ability to mean different things at different moments in a viewer’s life is the structural foundation of any truly enduring film.

The film doesn’t feel dated in its look, or its content. Its humour remains biting. Its timeless feel is rare allowing each new generation to discover it as though it were made for them.