Red heels: a love-letter to journalism

The last time I saw a movie in a theatre had to be prior to Covid. At least six years and tonight, it feels like I never missed the big auditorium experience. It was as loud as ever, as dark as ever, but the seats were cushy and rocked. In Hiawassee? In this little spot in the mountains? Athens never had it so nice.

Devil Wears Prada 2 didn’t disappoint. Although slow at first before they got into the ‘meat’ of the story, I hung on. It seemed that 2 mirrored 1 exactly in storyline. Began at the bathroom sink and ended (close) at a cafe at a table for two. Cerulean blue made a cameo along with major designers and other beauties that I had no clue the name, just that they were too pretty to be extras. Len, on the other hand, didn’t get the names, the inside jokes (Emily moving from Dior to Coach), the Cerulean blue. It’s ok; I’ll school the boy.

Love the ladies but its Tucci that always brings the depth. “Forever my girl.” I just assumed he meant me.

In an interview, Anne Hathaway said the film was a “love letter to journalism.”

Great last shot from the exterior of the three offices next to one another.