During the two-month endurance test that was The Devil Wears Prada 2’s global press tour, Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway hinted that the long-awaited sequel to the 2006 hit would champion body diversity. In interviews, both actors explained that while attending Milan fashion week they were surprised by how “alarmingly thin the models were”. As a result, Hathaway made “a beeline to the producers”, Streep said, to ensure that “skeletal” models wouldn’t feature in the film. At one premiere, Hathaway said she “thought the scene would be so much more enjoyable for the audience if we had just a wider range of bodies on display”.
Spoiler alert: only 15 minutes into the sequel the first weight gag lands, and it becomes clear that all the chatter around size inclusivity was, in fact, just simple size-washing. That means there’s just enough for the producers to tick the inclusivity box – mainly in the casting of the comedian Caleb Hearon as Miranda Priestly’s second assistant, and a quick glimpse of a couple of plus-size models including Ashley Graham in a catwalk montage – but not enough for any actual credibility. Then there are several wisecracks about weight, although remarkably only one reference to the weight-loss drug Ozempic. Now, that is groundbreaking!
The first film arrived at the height of noughties diet culture, when body-shaming was the norm. This was an era when celebrities’ bodies were scrutinised on the front of magazines, their cellulite circled and saggy knees mocked, while visible folds of flesh led to a frenzy akin to a national emergency.
Runway, the film’s fictional luxury fashion magazine, didn’t stoop this low, but The Devil Wears Prada leaned heavily into the idea that everyone in fashion is obsessed with being thin. If the one-liners about fashion (“Florals? For spring? Groundbreaking”) were unforgettable, so too were the quips geared around weight. Who hasn’t thought of Emily Charlton (Emily Blunt) and her line “I’m just one stomach flu away from my goal weight” during their own bout of norovirus?
But then came a shift. The term “body positivity” began to infiltrate fashion. In 2017, Graham became the first plus-size model to feature on the cover of Vogue. In 2020, Jill Kortleve walked in a Chanel show, becoming the first model above a UK size 8 to be cast in a decade. Then, in another landmark moment for inclusivity, British Vogue put Kortleve alongside the plus-size models Paloma Elsesser and Precious Lee on its April 2023 cover with the headline “The New Supers”.
However, only two years later, a model agency founder warned that the industry had “done a 360 turn” back to promoting thinness. In March 2026, a report by Vogue Business found that out of the 7,817 looks presented across 182 shows in the womenswear collections in February and March, 97.6% were shown on straight-size models who measured between UK sizes 4 and 8. Only 0.3% were plus-size, also known as “curve” (UK 18+), while 2.1% were mid-size (UK 10-16). It’s not just luxury catwalks. Progress on the high street is also being curtailed. Last year, a UK watchdog urged retailers to avoid using “irresponsible” images of unhealthily thin-looking models. Meanwhile, some brands including H&M have removed dedicated plus-size sections from their stores and made the ranges available online only.
All sorts of factors, from rightwing gender politics to changing ideals of the female body, have been flagged as contributing to this reversal. But it’s the widespread use of weight-loss drugs that is a major catalyst. Originally developed to treat diabetes, they have now been co-opted for weight loss, particularly in Hollywood. The debut issue of 72 magazine by Edward Enninful – the former British Vogue editor who put Kortleve et al on the cover – featured an unbranded GLP-1 medication pen in a beauty shoot. For many on the red carpet, their body rather than a designer outfit is the new status symbol. Monday night’s Met Gala is set to be a fecund setting for naked dressing due to its theme, “fashion is art”. The dress code encourages guests to “express their own relationship to fashion as an embodied art form”.
Against this backdrop, it’s bleak but not surprising that 20 years after the first The Devil Wears Prada film, it’s the sequel’s weight jokes that still move the needle on the laughometer. It’s an accurate reflection of just how little progress has been made off-screen. In an attempt to jog the memory of Miranda (Streep) about who she is, Andy (Hathaway) resorts to describing herself as her “former fat assistant”, a nod to the first film where Miranda called her the “smart, fat girl”. For the first role Hathaway, a US size 4, wore a padded size-6 bum prosthetic until her character’s “size-6 ass” dropped to a size 4. This time around there’s no need: Andy’s managed to keep the weight off for two decades while also becoming an award-winning journalist at a serious newspaper. Who says women can’t have it all?
Later in the sequel, Miranda gets confused about the term “body positivity”. Puffing out her cheeks to accentuate chubbiness, she refers to it as “body negative” because, “What is there to be positive about?” What indeed?
Chloe Mac Donnell is the Guardian’s deputy fashion and lifestyle editor
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