As Meryl Streep steps back into Miranda Priestly’s stilettos, we ask: is she the last icon of luxury fashion’s golden age—or its eternal muse?
“That’s all,” The simple mutter, yet subtle enough to crush dreams and reduce hours of effort to a footnote in her editorial world. And with that, entertainment’s fan favourite and nonetheless, ruthless fashion editor-in-chief, Miranda Priestly, played by Meryl Streep, returns in the sequel, Devil Wears Prada 2.
If there is one nightmare to expect at an interview, it is the entirety of facing sheer dismissal, a sequential crescendo of disinterest and counteractive energy of impertinence. And to whatever the odds, you might face, as a result, it follows with an immediate reactive move, to higher stakes leveraging. As most would have felt witnessing the deliberate, indifferent encounter with Miranda Priestly, one might discover that dealing with a dictator of taste, comes with a jittery mix of awe, inadequacy and the quiet terror of being seen.
Devoid of chaos or any overtly malice pretences, Miranda Priestly, an animated figure of distinct power dynamic, is a character of terrifying precision who has long since surpassed the need to explain herself. Power is inherent — and in the sequel to come, is Priestly the muse, the industry needs as aspiration for a pivotal reckoning? Or could this be another nostalgic reminder of the golden age?
The Return of a Cultural Archetype
Credits: Getty Images
In a rare reclamation of permanence towards a culture obsessed with the ephemeral, arriving in the form of an actress whose very being seems to transcend generational limitations. And so, the return of Streep, reprising an iconic role of high-key influence. As the fictitious flair of Hollywood characters past, Meryl’s embodiment of the cultural archetype, is something of far more relevance, transcending in spirit and a gravitational presence that is nonetheless, unattainable.
A truth modern fashion rarely allows: you don’t always need to reinvent to remain relevant. You only need to command.
Her palate for colour coordinates and style schemes, combined with a highly coercive list of loyalists, makes her character an impactful archetype to annotate. In hindsight, Miranda Priestly was never just a fashion editor—she was the embodiment of fashion’s most unrelenting ideal: conviction dressed in couture. She never sought approval, only excellence. And it is precisely this refusal to dilute, to soften, to pander—that now feels radically modern.
At a time when even fast fashion has taken deep hold, predicting taste and relevance is crowd-sourced, Miranda remains stubbornly singular. She does not conform to the times, but relevance should inevitably catch up to her.
The Devil’s New Playground — What This Means for Luxury Fashion
There comes a point at the peak of accessibility, where the concept of exclusivity takes a subjective dive as what was once considered almost elite, pivots via algorithmically and becomes democratised. Charismatically so, whether luxury has lost its edge across the elusive wave, is nonetheless transitional due to shifting societal behaviours across the generational demographics.
Just as vintage Hermès scarves, old Céline, and archival Alaïa are commanding higher cultural cachet than the latest drops, so too can the value of the editorial era of fashion redirect focus towards the age of taste as valued by a few, rather than diluted by many.
So one should wonder, as the Devil Wears Prada, in its inevitable ties to the industry’s reality shifts, would the sequel and its iconic cultural characters reiterate impact across today’s new generation? Where trends expire before they hit the shelves, the fashion world finds itself in quiet rebellion—craving longevity in a culture of scrollable saturation and breakout marketing gimmicks. .
In the event of modernism, luxury fashion has mutedly courted the illusion of speed: collaborations, streetwear hybrids, and since the acceleration of social media lucrative resources – algorithm-driven personalisation and TikTok virality. But beneath the surface, something has been stirring. A desire to anchor the industry once again to truths that don’t fade with filters. So, enter Miranda, and with her, a bold return to editorial authority, heritage reverence, and perhaps, structured, filled with proprietary ideas-led fashion.
Priestly, an imaginary figure who profoundly mirrored the Wintour quiet enigma, is a metonym for legacy. She doesn’t just style pieces, she curates the reason they were made. Therefore, in reviving Miranda, the culture isn’t just indulging in nostalgia — it’s endorsing it. And luxury brands are taking note.
