A Real-Life Features Editor Fact-Checks ‘The Devil Wears Prada 2’

Reported by Vogue.

A Vogue Editor's Honest Take on 'Devil Wears Prada 2'

The question started appearing after school drop-off: "Aren't you going to see the movie about where you work?" As a features editor at Vogue, I'd spent years insisting that the original Devil Wears Prada bore zero resemblance to actual magazine life. The sequel—which centers on Andy Sachs returning as a features editor tasked with salvaging Runway's reputation through serious journalism—seemed worth a fact-check. Spoiler alert: it's still fiction. But walking out of the theater, a colleague whispered, "Did they bug our offices?" Turns out a few details hit uncomfortably close.

Here's where the film gets it right: the actual office aesthetics are surprisingly accurate. Glass walls, river views, single-stem flower arrangements on desks—all real. Vogue genuinely does print articles for editors to take home and annotate by hand. The film also nails something less tangible but more important: the friendships you build here genuinely transcend your time at the magazine. The camaraderie and sense of purpose are real. That part? No notes.

Where Fantasy Meets Reality

Everything else is theater. Andy's apartment upgrade from charming prewar to soulless luxury condo? No features editor I know would willingly inhabit that sterile box when the actual dream is living within walking distance of your kids' school. Her wardrobe arc—sensible blazers swapped for high-fashion references—misses the point entirely. It took me years to even enter the fashion closet; borrowing pieces for the Hamptons isn't a perk, it's fiction. The film depicts Andy hovering outside Miranda's office, constantly seeking validation and pitching half-baked ideas. Reality operates differently. You visit colleagues with specific questions, demonstrate respect through efficiency, and pitch only stories you've already begun developing. Timeliness matters more than theatrics.

The broader office dynamics are pure invention. Andy shadowing Miranda to advertiser dinners? Never happens. Staying at Miranda's Hamptons estate? Not a thing. Her friend group—the gallery owners with perfectly curated pantries and downtown lofts—is caricature dressed as character. My actual journalist friends are wonkier, more intellectually serious, and considerably better dressed than the film suggests. They'd absolutely love a three-part investigation of the Federal Reserve; they wouldn't need the narrative of saving a fashion magazine to validate their work.

The movie ultimately misunderstands what draws people to work here in the first place. It's not about rubbing shoulders with power or infiltrating exclusive spaces—it's about the work itself, done well, with people who take it seriously. The real Vogue closet is better organized than the film version, which is maybe the most unintentionally accurate moment: reality, sometimes, is more impressive than its mythology.

Read the original at Vogue.