The Hottest Relationship in The Devil Wears Prada Is Obviously Miranda and Andy

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Nate sucks.

I refer, of course, to the boyfriend of Andy Sachs, the protagonist of The Devil Wears Prada. In the twenty years since the film’s release, Adrian Grenier’s Nate has become widely recognized as “the worst” and “the true villain” of the movie, largely because he is a whiny baby for much of the film’s runtime, rather than simply being grateful to have Anne Hathaway’s attention for even a moment.

Andy’s romantic alternative is no better—Christian Thompson (Simon Baker) is slimy and clearly far more in love with his own “charm” than with Andy. The movie, while mostly vibrant and engaging, grinds to a halt every time it leaves the workplace to focus on Andy’s personal life and on these two lackluster men in particular.

We might turn, then, to another source of romantic potential in the film, one that some would argue features far greater chemistry than Andy’s relationships with Nate or Christian. I refer, of course, to the sizzling romantic tension between Andy and her boss, Meryl Streep’s legendary Miranda Priestly.

It takes very little effort to read lesbian subtext into The Devil Wears Prada, as evidenced by the more than 4,000 works of Mirandy (Miranda/Andy) fanfiction on Archive of Our Own (AO3). After all, the film ends not with Andy and Nate, nor Andy and Christian, but with Andy and Miranda. By this point, Andy has left her role as Miranda’s assistant at Runway, the fashion magazine where Miranda serves as editor-in-chief. In the final scene, Andy walks past the magazine’s headquarters and sees Miranda exiting the building. She stops and stares, locking eyes with Miranda before giving her an awkward wave. Miranda doesn’t acknowledge the wave, but after she gets in her car, we see her smile—giggle, even—at the mere sight of Andy.

To the enlightened viewer, this moment is a culmination of the homoerotic tension that defines Miranda and Andy’s relationship. It begins, naturally, with the post-makeover moment in which Miranda is stopped in her tracks by Andy’s newly refined appearance. She licks her lips and, as Andy exits her office, turns her head to stare at . . . Andy’s outfit, of course. Then there is Miranda’s expression when Andy reveals that she has successfully obtained a pre-publication Harry Potter manuscript for Miranda’s twin daughters. Miranda appears momentarily flustered, seeming briefly to forget her disdain for Andy; one might describe her expression as hungry, and she, again, turns to watch as Andy leaves her office.

For Andy’s part, she grows increasingly devoted to Miranda as the film progresses, above and beyond the necessities of her role. She is not only defensive of her own dedication to Miranda, but of Miranda herself, even when she doesn’t need to be. She points out that if Miranda was a man, “nobody would notice anything about her except how great she is at her job,” an argument remarkably similar to a certain song in which a certain singer notes that getting bitches and models would be totally acceptable if she was a man.

Late in the film, Andy breaks up with Nate and goes with Miranda to Paris for Fashion Week. She then chooses Miranda, again, over Christian; when she learns about Christian’s involvement in a plot to oust Miranda from her role at Runway, she immediately goes to great lengths to inform Miranda of the scheme. In this instance, she can’t even argue that she is doing it for the sake of her career—with Christian as Runway’s new head of editorial, Andy would be far better placed to pursue her writing career than in her role as Miranda’s assistant. She admits as much in her conversation with Christian, saying only that the decision would devastate Miranda. Her loyalty to Miranda in this instance can only be personal rather than professional, and from there, it’s a short leap to romantic infatuation.

It is in Paris, too, that Miranda shares a brief moment of vulnerability with Andy, when she discloses the news of her impending divorce. When Andy remarks that she no longer needs to fetch Miranda’s husband from the airport, Miranda responds, “you’re very fetching, so . . . go fetch.” In a brave and just world, this line could be the beginning of a transgressive Babygirl-esque relationship of workplace dominance and submission, but alas, The Devil Wears Prada is a major studio release from 2006, and 20th Century Fox was not providing $40 million for a lesbian workplace romance.

Instead, we are left with that ending, with Andy and Miranda’s shared smiles, hinting at a fondness for each other far beyond anything expressed earlier in the film. Objectively speaking, it seems likely that the creators did not want to end the film with outright hostility between Miranda and Andy, even if such hostility would be more realistic, and so ended on a note of ambiguous pleasantry. It is much more fun, though, to imagine the ending as an expression of Miranda and Andy’s love or lust for one another, consummated or unconsummated. In that case, the ambiguity opens up a world of possibilities for hard-working fanfiction writers to imagine Miranda and Andy’s past and future as more than merely boss and employee.

As you are surely aware—and as I have had noted in my calendar for many months—The Devil Wears Prada 2 came out May 1. Naturally, I saw the film opening weekend; as far as legacy sequels go, it is quite good. The world of magazine publishing is far more dire and decidedly less glamorous than it was in 2006, and the film does not shy away from the shifting power dynamics brought on by these seismic changes. Prior to its release, I noted that The Devil Wears Prada 2 would probably have to be one of the ten worst films I have ever seen for me to see it fewer than three times in theatres. I am thrilled to report that it is nowhere near the bottom of that list, so for the foreseeable future, I will be alternating between The Devil Wears Prada 2 and Mother Mary, the other queer-coded Anne Hathaway movie currently in theatres. I am generally drawn toward more dark and disturbing films, and The Devil Wears Prada is probably my only more traditional comfort movie, one that I have turned to after the worst weeks of my life. Of course, when I say that The Devil Wears Prada is my comfort movie, I mean the version of The Devil Wears Prada that I have outlined here, which is obviously a story of queer infatuation between an assistant and her boss.

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The Devil Wears Prada 2 does not render explicit the tension between Miranda and Andy. However, much of the film revolves around Andy’s desperate desire for Miranda’s validation and approval, even two decades on from her time as Miranda’s assistant. Andy again goes to great lengths to protect Miranda’s career alongside her own, and her and Miranda’s respective heterosexual love interests are little more than afterthoughts in the film’s plot. In other words, there is ample subtext to imagine a connection between Andy and Miranda beyond what we see onscreen. After all, as someone who just wrote a thesis on The X Files’ Mulder and Scully, I am no stranger to unresolved sexual tension, and I can happily envision how The Devil Wears Prada’s toxic workplace dynamic might escalate into something more.

Anne Hathaway has Phantom Thread in her Letterboxd “Four Favorites,” previously described All That Jazz as one of her favourite movies, and professed her love for Gone Girl as a romantic comedy to James Corden and his horrified audience. The only conclusion I can possibly draw from this—besides that Anne Hathaway and I would obviously be best friends if we ever met—is that she would absolutely approve of a version of The Devil Wears Prada as an unhealthy, twisted workplace romance. I can practically see the Phantom Thread alternate universe fanfiction being written in real time!

For the ultimate lesbian The Devil Wears Prada experience, I recommend viewing the film, then listening to Taylor Swift’s Reputation. To my knowledge, there is no concrete evidence that Reputation wasn’t written as a Mirandy concept album, and as an album, it is all too easy to interpret through a queer lens: “My reputation’s never been worse . . .” “Our secret moments in a crowded room . . .” “I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us . . .” “Only bought this dress so you could take it off . . .” “Do the girls back home touch you like I do?”

It’s all there in the text. You just need to open your heart and let it in.

Adapted from “The Devil Wears Prada’s Homoerotic Power” by Colby Payne (Substack). Reprinted with permission of the author.