One of my favorite things about movies is the demarcation of time. The style of cinematography, the hairstyles, the wardrobe and the actors’ faces in a film signal an era-specific aesthetic that surely felt cutting edge at the time and then becomes fun, and hilarious, to revisit. I enjoy the nostalgia of rewatching the movies of yore and, triggered by the aesthetic, looking back and remembering life during the movie’s release.
I’ve hit a very fun stage of parenting wherein my children are interested in watching movies that my husband and I love. This means we can finally go to movies that aren’t necessarily made for kids, like “Project Hail Mary,” and rewatch old favorites. We recently showed them “Apollo 13” — a movie I hadn’t seen in at least 20 years — and I was delighted by how riveted my children were and by my ability to understand the plot for the very first time.
I love showing my kids the movies that helped shape my perception of the world and my place in it. Movies about ambitious women in high-intensity industries (usually magazine publishing) living their dreams and landing very handsome men along the way. “13 Going on 30,” “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” and, at the very top of the list, “The Devil Wears Prada.”
“The Devil Wears Prada” came out in 2006 when I was single, 20 years old and deciding what I wanted to do with my life. I had just transferred out of the communications school at BYU, thinking there was no future for me in print journalism. Lolololololol. All I knew was that I wanted to write somewhere about something. Rewatching “The Devil Wears Prada” with my two daughters made me unexpectedly nostalgic for that time of life, when all I had was a dream and a course catalog.
Also, I was relieved to find that the movie was relatively appropriate for a 14- and 11-year-old, unlike some films from my adolescence I’ve attempted to show them before remembering certain scenes, phrases and characters I had forgotten. We made it 20 minutes into “Bring It On” before I had to turn it off and issue an apology.
Because my daughters loved “The Devil Wears Prada” so much, I decided to take them to “The Devil Wears Prada 2” on the day it was released last week.
The movie was fine. It wasn’t as sharp, funny or fun as the original. The plot barely existed and strained credulity, and the script had about half the wit of the first. But it did reunite Anne Hathaway, Meryl Streep, Stanley Tucci and Emily Blunt, all of whom I enjoy spending time with. And it featured lots of beautiful clothes hanging on beautiful people in beautiful locations.
There’s a term that I’m pretty sure I didn’t make up but that I use all the time — a five-star three-star movie. A five-star three-star movie is a movie that on paper, evaluated using logic, deserves no more than three stars. But the vibes and circumstances around the movie create a five-star experience.
Taking my children to the sequel of one of my favorite movies, in a theater filled almost exclusively with fashion-appreciating females and ordering a large popcorn was a five-star movie experience. And the movie itself, while it lacked spirit and verve of the first, gave me a chance to reflect in reverse.
Much like I watched the 2006 movie in 2026 and felt nostalgic for that period of time, I watched the 2026 movie and found myself wondering what the 2006 version of myself would think of the 2026 me.
As nostalgic as I was for 2006 watching “The Devil Wears Prada,” “The Devil Wears Prada 2” made me realize how much has happened over the last 20 years. Not just in the fashion magazine publishing industry and the world beyond, but in my own life.
And if I focus in on the nostalgia for 2006, I find that behind the rosy memories was a 20-year-old who was terrified that she would never know what to do with her life. She didn’t know if she’d ever have a career or a family. She didn’t even know if she’d be able to pick and stick with a major.
It made me proud of that girl 20 years ago who, sure, probably should not have abandoned her communications major for an English degree, but eventually figured it out. And had a family. And enjoys taking that family to movies on a Friday night.
It also also made me wonder about the films my daughters will rewatch in 20 years — the ones that will look dated and hilarious and feel like home. Maybe this one. Maybe they’ll sit in a theater with their own kids for “The Devil Wears Prada 3” and feel, all at once, nostalgic and proud and a little embarrassed by the hair. I hope so.