Vogue Finally Embraces The Devil Wears Prada Movie Sequel

There is nothing quite as calculated as a pivot from “icy indifference” to a full-blown promotional blitz. For two decades, Anna Wintour played the role of the real-life Miranda Priestly with terrifying precision, treating The Devil Wears Prada as a curiosity beneath her notice. But as the sequel hits theaters, the frost has thawed—not necessarily out of a sudden burst of warmth, but because the industry machinery has shifted. When the “villain” of the story becomes the face of the marketing campaign, it’s no longer about the art; it’s about the brand.

To understand the scale of this shift, one has to look back at the original era of hostility. Following the 2003 release of the novel, Wintour’s reaction was appropriately frosty. She famously “warned” a real-life inspiration for the character Emily that writing a book about the inner workings of the office was a dangerous game, bluntly asking, “Who’s Lauren Weisberger?” while suggesting the assistant’s behavior was “worse” than her own. For years, Wintour maintained a strategic distance, leaving the audience to decide if the similarities between her and the fictional Miranda Priestly were intentional.

Fast forward to today, and the strategy has inverted. Wintour and Streep didn’t just meet; they posed together for a cover shoot, both draped in Prada, accompanied by a short film that leaned into the “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” meta-narrative. The magazine didn’t stop there—it integrated the entire franchise into its ecosystem, from book club picks to commissioning op-eds from the original author and hosting screenings for former assistants.

From an industry perspective, this is a textbook move in brand evolution. Wintour has recently transitioned from Editor-in-Chief to Global Chief Content Officer, and under new EIC Chloe Malle, Vogue is desperate to prove it is “in on the joke” rather than the butt of it. In a world where beauty standards are now dictated by TikTok and Instagram rather than a single masthead, leaning into a mega-popular movie franchise is a survival tactic. The first film grossed over $457 million globally; ignoring that kind of cultural gravity is simply bad business.

However, there is a lingering question of authenticity. The original film worked because it was a satire of an impenetrable fortress. Now that the fortress has opened its gates and invited the cameras in, the edge is blunted. When the subject of the satire becomes its loudest cheerleader, the project shifts from a critique of power to a celebration of it.

Whether this move makes Vogue look evolved or simply “unfashionably late” to its own party remains to be seen. But in the high-stakes game of cultural relevance, the goal isn’t necessarily to be liked—it’s to be talked about. And as the sequel gears up for massive box office success, it seems the “industry machinery” has won again.