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It started a month ago. \u201cAre you going to see the movie?\u201d a mom asked me after morning drop-off. Was she talking about Hoppers<\/em>? A forthcoming playdate at a Mandalorian & Grogu<\/em> screening? I looked at her blankly.<\/p>\n And then: \u201cYou know, the one about where you work\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n Let\u2019s get the obvious out of the way: The Devil Wears Prada<\/em><\/a> is entertainment. Little of what you will see onscreen in the original (or the sequel) bears any resemblance to reality. Nonetheless, at the end of the screening many members of the Vogue<\/em> staff attended this week, one colleague turned to me with a slightly ashen look. \u201cDid they bug our offices?\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n There were, shall we say, a few things that cut a bit close to the bone\u2014not unlike the original book, as outlined in stylist Leslie Fremar\u2019s revealing recent interview for our podcast<\/a>.<\/p>\n The sequel concerns Andy Sachs\u2019s return to Runway<\/em>\u2014now as the features editor. After the magazine\u2019s parent company faces a PR crisis, Andy, who has spent the intervening decades toiling away on noble journalistic pursuits like three-part investigations of the Federal Reserve, is hired to burnish the glossy\u2019s reputation with mea culpa blog posts and capital-S serious journalism\u2014or so she hopes.<\/p>\n I have spent most of my time at Vogue<\/em> telling people that The Devil Wears Prada<\/em> doesn\u2019t remotely reflect my working life. That argument is aided by the fact that while an awareness of fashion is a prerequisite for working here, my job is firmly outside the fashion trenches. I dart out of the way of the rolling racks whizzing around the floor; I\u2019m not pushing them. I\u2019ve been to about half a dozen shoots in my almost decade working here\u2014enough to convince me my presence wasn\u2019t much appreciated. I have stacks of books on my desk and a single pair of shoes under it.<\/p>\n But the sequel seemed to offer a different proposition\u2014a features editor (the star of the film, no less) stepping in to save the day? A fact-check was called for.<\/p>\n Andy\u2019s Friends<\/strong><\/p>\n Film:<\/strong> A motley crew of wizened journos\u2014the types who attend awards dinners at Midtown hotels where the tables are round and have no centerpieces. There\u2019s one (Tracie Thoms, reprising her role as Andy\u2019s scold-y friend Lily) who, judging by the real estate she occupies, seems to have made good with her gallery.<\/p>\n Reality:<\/strong> I, too, have friends who own art galleries and have multiple boxes of Maldon salt on their open kitchen shelves. Pantry props may be about where the similarities end. The only people I know with Manhattan lofts like Lily\u2019s have inhabited them since the \u201970s. At the start of my career I worked in Washington, D.C., so I keep many wonky types close to my heart. They dress better than these caricatures, but they would<\/em> really dig a three-part investigation of the Federal Reserve.<\/p>\n Andy\u2019s Apartment<\/strong><\/p>\n Film:<\/strong> Andy\u2019s promotion allows her to move on up from a charming prewar apartment with a penny-tiled bathroom\u2014Mrs. Meyer\u2019s soap on the sink\u2014dodgy plumbing, and New Yorker<\/em> totes hanging on the hooks, to a deluxe (soulless) condo in a hollowed-out historic building.<\/p>\n Reality:<\/strong> I don\u2019t think that even the most far-from-fashion of the features editors would happily reside in the cookie-cutter white box that Andy moves into. The dream is living within walking distance of your kids\u2019 school, of course!<\/p>\n Andy\u2019s Clothes<\/strong><\/p>\n Film:<\/strong> A wardrobe of sensible but stylish blazers paired with jeans and blouses is replaced with outfits<\/a> my fashion colleagues will have to detail for you<\/a>\u2014the references are beyond me. When Andy is invited to the Hamptons, she tours the fashion closet with Nigel to pad her roll-y bag with borrowed items.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n