Warning: spoilers ahead.

In 2006, The Devil Wears Prada sold us a dream. It wasn’t meant to. It was meant to depict working at magazines, especially fashion magazines, as a nightmare. But instead, a million girls and gays across the world agreed that yes, we would kill for that job. So we put in the work: studied the right subjects at school and then university; spent countless hours scouring the small, tucked-away fashion section of our local Waterstones; went to the exhibitions; worked gruelling internships; and finally, twenty years later, we landed the job. Only to discover that the dream we were sold no longer exists. 

In the opening scene of The Devil Wears Prada 2, Andrea Sachs (Anne Hathaway) and her entire local newspaper team are made redundant via text message. “Everyone I know is going through this,” grumbles one of her colleagues. The persistent threat of the ‘death of print’ has loomed over our heads for more than a decade, and yet, we’ve always managed, one way or another, to kick it down the line. That being said, sometimes kicking it down the line has meant jumping ship – I personally have been made redundant from two of my three jobs in journalism. 

Due to social media and increasingly short attention spans, magazines in 2026 are feeling the pressure more than ever. In March, we were devastated to learn that The Face had shuttered, seven years after its relaunch. Earlier this month, Condé Nast’s Self announced that it would be closing after 47 years; London’s Evening Standard newspaper has merged with The Independent, and rumours about other publications are already circulating. According to the Instagram account for Condé Nast’s Union, @condeunited, last week, the company allegedly made major cuts at Glamour and Vanity Fair. And that’s all within the past two months. 

In The Devil Wears Prada 2, the redundancy chat doesn’t start and end in the first scene; it’s the theme of the entire film. Emily Blunt’s character – also called Emily – has now left the fictional Runway magazine and has done what many fashion journalists are doing nowadays: working in-house at a brand. In this case, Dior. After being made redundant, Andy turns her mind to writing a book, before being re-hired at Runway as features editor (skip to a montage of her pulling her hair out, tirelessly chasing clicks and being pressured to drive website traffic).

In one particularly haunting monologue, Nigel (Stanley Tucci), details the time, energy, manpower and money it takes to do a photoshoot, only for the image to end up being scrolled past on social media, gazed at for less than a second. He notes that while “the book” (the physical magazine) still exists, no one is buying or reading it. 

It’s all very doom and gloom, and right now, feels especially close to the bone. So, what’s the happy ending to this ‘feel-good film’? Surely there’s some glimmer of hope that we can glean from the fate of Runway magazine. Ah yes: you just needa billionaire to swoop in and save you and your entire team. 

I wish I could say that redundancy was the only accurate part of the movie. Sadly not. Ozempic and AI are both discussed in passing conversation, like things we’ve grown used to, rather than anything to be shocked by. The cherry on top of it all is when, at the end of the film, it’s revealed that Andy only got re-hired because Nigel put in a good word for her, proving that it’s never how good you are, it’s who you know. 

Anyone who describes The Devil Wears Prada 2 as ‘heartwarming’ has either never been made redundant, has never had to consider redundancy, or simply, has a lot of money. It’s a bleak and unnecessary reminder of the state of today's fashion industry. Beyond acting as a two-hour-long advert for several major fashion houses, I don’t know who this film was made for. Certainly not the fans who loved the original and now work in magazines. In 2006, a million girls decided that they would kill for that job. In 2026, they’re considering their options.