The Devil Is in the Detail: What The Devil Wears Prada 2 - Can Teach Our Teenagers
By Dr Michael Carr-Gregg, AO
Confession: I am not Margaret Pomeranz or David Stratton. I’m a child and adolescent psychologist. My movie-going is as much about watching the crowd as it is about watching the screen. And as I sat watching The Devil Wears Prada 2, I thought less about the brilliance of Meryl Streep, though she remains one of the greatest actors alive, and more about the teenagers sitting around me who desperately need the conversations this film can spark.
So, my advice to parents is: go see this movie with your teenager. Then talk. Because behind the designer clothes and the cutting one-liners is something far more important: a brutally accurate portrait of modern adolescence.
Andy Sachs is back, twenty years older but the question at the heart of the story hasn’t changed. Who am I when the world keeps telling me who to be? The difference now is that teens aren’t just performing for a boss like Miranda Priestly. They are on social media 24/7. Every post, every selfie, every TikTok is another gruelling audition for acceptance.
The primary psychological task of adolescence is identity formation. Teenagers try on personalities the way Miranda tries on couture – quickly, anxiously, and with enormous emotional stakes. The film understands what many adults don’t: image is not superficial to teens. It’s so tied to belonging and status and self-worth. After the film, ask your teen: “When do you feel most like yourself, and when do you feel like you’re performing?”
And ambition. One of the cleverest things about this film is that it doesn’t shame ambitious women. Andy is a doer. Emily is cutthroat. Miranda created an empire. None of them apologise for wanting success, and they shouldn’t. But the film also depicts what happens when ambition goes off the moral rails. Miranda’s willingness to compromise integrity for relevance feels painfully familiar in a culture obsessed with clicks, followers and personal branding.
Hustle culture is drowning teenagers - the modern belief that your value as a human being is tied to how productive, successful, busy, wealthy or “high-performing” you are. They’re constantly told that if they’re not building a brand, monetising a hobby or achieving at elite level, they’re falling behind somehow. The pressure never lets up. This film quietly fights back against that toxic message. You can desire success. Just don’t lose yourself in pursuit of it. Also, the film captures well what adults tend to underestimate: how deeply confused young people are about truth and media. Andy getting laid off by text message at an awards gala is played for laughs, but most teenagers won’t be shocked, they’ll think this is normal. They have grown up in a world where relationships begin and end online, outrage is monetised and misinformation travels faster than facts. This provides the rare opportunity to have an important discussion about the film: Where do you find your info? Who do you believe? How can you know what is real?
And then the gut punch of feeling. The most effective scenes are with Miranda herself. Underneath the icy perfection is a woman who’s afraid that if the magazine goes, she goes, too. Her identity has become one with her job. When that begins to crack, so does she. I see versions of this in my consulting room all the time. Young people who believe they are their ATAR. Their ranking in sports. Their shape. Their follower numbers. Their success is their identity. And when those things wobble, as they inevitably do, their whole sense of self comes crashing down with them.
And young people need to hear this message so desperately: You are more than your GPA. More than what you achieve. Simple to say. Not nearly as believable. This is precisely why movies like this are important. The Devil Wears Prada 2 is not actually about fashion. It’s about who you are, what you want to be, and the pressure to be someone the world approves of. In my clinical judgement, it's perfectly suitable for teenagers and, more importantly, it gives parents something increasingly hard to find: a mainstream film that paves the way for the conversations adolescents most need to have. I imagine Miranda Priestly would find the idea of an adolescent psychologist using her as a teachable moment quite unbearable. Which, frankly, makes me recommend it even more.
