In 2006, we all wanted to be Andy Sachs; today, with the arrival of The Devil Wears Prada 2, the question is inevitable: at what cost?
It was 2006 when The Devil Wears Prada, based on the 2003 novel of the same name, was released in Italian cinemas. For an eighteen-year-old living in a small provincial town, surrounded by stacks of magazines and runway specials. just like Nigel the world of fashion seemed like the only real gateway to self-fulfillment.
All those extraordinary clothes, those shoes and handbags, seemed to belong to an almost unreal universe: a dream, yes, but with a subtle and irresistible promise that it could become reality.
And like many of my peers, I enrolled in university in Milan, “the capital of fashion.” In the end, I truly entered that world: what had until shortly before been just a film became, for many of us, real life.
As it was for Andy Sachs, the path seemed clear: get in, endure, emerge.
Then reality arrived and, with it, the awareness that that world was not only made of clothes and magazine covers, but also of often uncomfortable choices and silent sacrifices.
And yet, right in this tension between dream and reality, something more authentic was born. Because while it’s true that growing up also means coming to terms with compromises and expectations, it’s equally true that we learn to value what remains: passion, determination, the possibility of building our own path.
Because, beyond the difficulties, this work continues to give us real satisfaction, moments of pride, and that spark that, years ago, made us fall in love with this world.
Maybe we are no longer the girls who dreamed in front of a magazine cover, but we are women who have found our place imperfect, complex, but deeply our own. And in the end, yes: it was worth.
@disneyit @20thcenturystudios 
