Aline Brosh McKenna explains how she approached writing The Devil Wears Prada 2, why Meryl Streep’s buy-in mattered, and how the film navigates modern fashion and workplace culture
The return of The Devil Wears Prada 2 began with a reluctant spark that turned into a full creative reunion. Screenwriter Aline Brosh McKenna had reservations about revisiting such a beloved film, aware that any sequel would be judged against the original’s cultural impact. Over two decades after that first film became a touchstone, conversations about the characters and the industry’s transformation nudged the project forward. When Meryl Streep signaled openness to revisiting Miranda Priestly, the creative team found the momentum it needed.
Rather than simply reproducing old beats, McKenna and collaborators aimed to examine how the worlds of fashion, journalism and publishing have adapted in recent years. The sequel’s foundation rests on a practical question: what do these iconic figures look like when the rules of work—and the metrics of success—have shifted from print circulation to digital engagement? That inquiry shaped the film’s narrative choices and the tone that balances nostalgia with critique.
Development started gradually, with input from returning cast and producers before any studio mandate. McKenna describes early outreach to director David Frankel and the importance of hearing from Meryl Streep early in the process. Streep’s reaction became a decisive factor; her interest transformed speculative notes into a tangible plan. The impetus was not a corporate order for a franchise continuation but rather a creative desire shared by original stakeholders, notably producer Wendy Finerman. That origin story framed the sequel as an invitation to revisit, rather than a cynical reboot driven by trend-chasing.
The sequel leans into how the industry itself has evolved. Print magazines have shrunk in economic clout while analytics, clicks and influencer currencies now drive editorial decisions. McKenna explores these shifts through the characters’ trajectories: some have ascended into corporate powerhouses, others have weathered the changes unevenly. The movie foregrounds the tension between creative integrity and commercial survival, asking whether the same moral questions from the original still resonate in an era when success is quantified differently.
One of the screenplay’s recurring ideas is that clothing communicates cultural signals beyond simple attractiveness. The original film’s makeover sequence framed style as access to an exclusive world; the sequel continues that idea while acknowledging how silhouettes and trends have cycled. McKenna points out that fashion toggles between eras—eyebrow shapes, volumes and proportions shift—and these visible changes act as shorthand for social meaning. The film uses authentic designer references more visibly than the first installment, yet it avoids feeling like a catalogue or advertisement.
Balancing audience nostalgia with fresh stakes was a constant writing challenge. McKenna aimed for a script that serves longtime fans but remains legible to newcomers; she wanted callbacks—like the film’s signature line “That’s all”—to feel earned rather than obligatory. The screenplay resists turning characters into caricatures: moments that could have leaned into cruelty are tempered by context, and moral complications are given room to breathe. That approach produces a film that reads as affectionate rather than mercilessly ironic, even when it nods to the original’s sharper edges.
Certain relationships from the first film are revisited and reframed. For instance, characters who once symbolized a purity-versus-practicality debate now inhabit a world where economic realities complicate those binary judgments. The screenplay treats these tensions as generationally inflected: questions about “selling out” are examined with the knowledge that surviving creatively today often requires new compromises. McKenna’s view is that the workplace remains an effective stage for exploring ambition, identity and ethical boundaries—now with different props and deadlines.
Filming attracted intense public interest, with on-location shoots generating crowds and paparazzi attention that surprised the writer. That spectacle underscores how the original film became a shared cultural memory, and why audiences crave communal experiences around familiar stories. McKenna acknowledges the pressure but emphasizes a steady creative aim: to tell a story that respects the first film’s spirit while reflecting how Runway and those who orbit it would react to the pressures of a changed media landscape.
Ultimately, the sequel is less about repeating hits than about asking how beloved characters adapt when the world around them has altered. With high-profile returns from Meryl Streep, Anne Hathaway and others, the film offers both callbacks and new dilemmas. It is a careful attempt to honor the original’s voice while interrogating the cultural shifts that have transformed fashion, workplaces and the ways we value creative labor.