HOW THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA MOVIE MADE US LOVE FASHION – AND QUESTION IT
Posted on by Cameron Tewson
The Devil Wears Prada is more than a fashion fantasy—it’s a reflection of the contradictions stitched into the very seams of the industry. From the moment Miranda Priestly utters the now-iconic “cerulean” monologue, the film invites us to examine how fashion infiltrates our lives, even when we think we’re above it. Andy Sachs’ transformation is framed in designer names: Chanel boots, a Calvin Klein shift, a cerulean James Holt gown. Each label marks a step in her ascent—and a layer in her detachment. The brands aren’t just accessories; they are signals of belonging, curated power, and silent gatekeepers in a world where appearances are everything.
Yet, for all its adoration of craftsmanship and couture, the film doesn’t shy away from showing how these brands are also symbols of pressure. Valentino becomes a marker of approval. Jimmy Choo heels demand both elegance and pain. The closet full of sample pieces is aspirational, but also quietly oppressive—tempting, but never quite free. The viewer starts to notice: the same labels that elevate Andy are the ones that isolate her. It’s an exciting, yet intoxicating contradiction. Fashion is both tool and trap, and the brands that define beauty in one scene reveal the industry’s cold machinery in the next.
The genius of the hit 2006 movie, is that it doesn’t condemn these labels—it complicates them. It asks the viewer to look at a laced Dior corset not just as art, but as a question: Who gets to wear this, and at what cost? It turns a Louis Vuitton bag into a metaphor for identity: a sign of success, or a symbol of surrender? The brands we covet in magazines and red carpets take on new meaning when we see them deployed as armour in the emotional battlefield of ambition and self-worth. It becomes harder to separate the beauty from the baggage.
By the time Andy drops her phone in the Paris fountain and walks away, the brands don’t disappear—they stay with us, just reframed. Fashion isn’t just about clothes; it’s about values. The film subtly teaches us to admire the design and question the system. It urges us to look past the gloss and ask why these names hold so much power. In doing so, The Devil Wears Prada doesn’t reject fashion—it reclaims it.
