The Devil You Know

We’ve spent the last decade flooded with nostalgia: sequels, reboots, and rehashed IP everywhere. Much of it feels forced. That’s why it’s surprising that The Devil Wears Prada 2 feels exciting, perhaps even “groundbreaking.” Nostalgia can’t be manufactured, but it can be observed and harnessed when the time is right.

On my way out of the city last week, I stopped by the pop-up at Hudson Yards, where hundreds of devilish fans took their stiletto selfies and quickly queued behind me, eager to claim their copy of RUNWAY. The excitement was as palpable as the impatience of the crowd. Fans, no doubt taking too long on their lunch breaks, were for once completely unbothered by an event moving at a glacial pace. Finance bros walked by scoffing, “They’re really waiting for - that?”

For many of us, this film was our first window into the working world. As a 13-year-old boy I imagined myself as an “Andy,” someday running about the streets of New York, balancing coffees in one hand, cell phone in the other, determined to track down the next unreleased Harry Potter manuscript. It made my little world in the rural south make sense: that the work I put in would someday pay off. (And I’ve held a grudge against Nate ever since.)

That world means something to us. It’s one we were eager to return to, and have subtly clamored for online for years. That’s why we’re willing to wait in line for a promotional magazine, or a butter birkin.

And the truth is - everyone wants to be us.