The Devil Wears Prada: A Novel

Paperback | April 13, 2004

byLauren Weisberger

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From the author of REVENGE WEARS PRADA, a delightfully dishy novel about the all-time most impossible boss in the history of impossible bosses.

Andrea Sachs, a small-town girl fresh out of college, lands the job “a million girls would die for.” Hired as the assistant to Miranda Priestly, the high-profile, fabulously successful editor of Runway magazine, Andrea finds herself in an office that shouts Prada! Armani! Versace! at every turn, a world populated by impossibly thin, heart-wrenchingly stylish women and beautiful men clad in fine-ribbed turtlenecks and tight leather pants that show off their lifelong dedication to the gym. With breathtaking ease, Miranda can turn each and every one of these hip sophisticates into a scared, whimpering child.

THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA gives a rich and hilarious new meaning to complaints about “The Boss from Hell.” Narrated in Andrea’s smart, refreshingly disarming voice, it traces a deep, dark, devilish view of life at the top only hinted at in gossip columns and over Cosmopolitans at the trendiest cocktail parties. From sending the latest, not-yet-in-stores Harry Potter to Miranda’s children in Paris by private jet, to locating an unnamed antique store where Miranda had at some point admired a vintage dresser, to serving lattes to Miranda at precisely the piping hot temperature she prefers, Andrea is sorely tested each and every day—and often late into the night with orders barked over the phone. She puts up with it all by keeping her eyes on the prize: a recommendation from Miranda that will get Andrea a top job at any magazine of her choosing. As things escalate from the merely unacceptable to the downright outrageous, however, Andrea begins to realize that the job a million girls would die for may just kill her. And even if she survives, she has to decide whether or not the job is worth the price of her soul.

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From the Publisher

From the author of REVENGE WEARS PRADA, a delightfully dishy novel about the all-time most impossible boss in the history of impossible bosses. Andrea Sachs, a small-town girl fresh out of college, lands the job “a million girls would die for.” Hired as the assistant to Miranda Priestly, the high-profile, fabulously successful editor o...

From the Jacket

"[A] funny, biting, low-cal treat."-Rush & Molloy, The New York Daily News"A deliciously witty and gossipy first novel."-Publishers Weekly"[An] on-the-money kiss-and-tell debut.-KirkusFrom the Hardcover edition.

Lauren Weisberger graduated from Cornell University in 1999. She lives in New York City.

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Format:PaperbackDimensions:368 pages, 7.98 × 5.2 × 0.8 inPublished:April 13, 2004Publisher:Crown/ArchetypeLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:0767914767

ISBN - 13:9780767914765

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Rated 1 out of 5 by from The Devil Wears Prada centres around Andrea Sachs, who takes the job as Miranda Priestly's assistant as a step to get to her dream job. What she doesn't realize is how demanding the job is as she struggles to keep up with her social life. To be honest, this book it not really for me. The majority of it is Andrea whining about how hard her job is.
Date published: 2014-02-09
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Fashion Industry At It's Best If you are interested in the fashion industry and it's insight this book is certainly for you. I came into this book with a clear because I had seen the movie I did not want to compare it and of course the book is better. I do have to say that Meryl Streep did an amazing job with the character of Miranda Priestly. All in all this is a great read and the best that Lauren Weisberger has written so far.
Date published: 2011-05-28
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Great read!!!!! This was a great book and I could easily call it my favourite. It was very entertaining all the way through and easily relate able. I LOVED it!!!
Date published: 2011-02-05
Rated 4 out of 5 by from This book was really good. I am not one to know much about designer clothes or fashion, but it seems like a lot of money goes into it and I don't know if I would put myself in the main characters position just for some shoes. The movie was better than the book, but they should have kept the books ending. Overall an okay read
Date published: 2010-12-09
Rated 1 out of 5 by from The Devil Wears No Name After falling absolutely head over heals in lust with the movie The Devil Wears Prada, I decided to give the novel a try. My friend was always on my case to read it, saying it was “the best novel ever” and I honestly never had the chance to read it besides I thought it would be superficial, shallow and stupid… and I was right. Although the movie focuses on the actual characters, the novel focuses on clothes. The amount of times I had to read what each character wore for each day was disgusting. I would say 1/3rd of the novel was used to describe clothes. If I wanted to know what clothes looked like I would stand in front of a Holt Renfrew window. The story is about a young fresh out of university woman, Andrea Sachs, who wants job in publishing, where she can do what she does best, write. It’s in first person narrative and I honestly believe that some words written in the novel were put in after using a thesaurus. Andrea lands a job at a fashion magazine, Runway, where she is constantly told “a million people would die for your job” She ends up working as an assistant to one of the cruellest workaholics in the industry, Miranda Priestly, the editor-in-chief of Runway. As the story progresses we see Andrea caught in a situation where her personal life merges with her work life until work becomes her life. Aside from the two main characters we get the supporting characters, Alex, the understanding boyfriend, Lily, Andrea’s best friend, Christian, Andrea’s “work crush” and Emily, Andrea’s co-worker along with other meaningless and pitiful characters not worth mentioning. There was no major makeover, nor was there really any character development. The characters all pretty much remained the same in the end just a little more angry and self centered. The plot line is atrocious, the main character is annoying, and the only thing that saves this novel is Miranda Priestly who is wonderfully callous and believable as the “b*tch-boss” from England. Perhaps if I read the novel before I watched the movie I would not be so biased and I would appreciate the novel more, however I cannot appreciate something that is so overwhelmingly shallow as this novel was. But that’s my opinion anyway.
Date published: 2009-10-27
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Laugh out loud hilarious! I thought this book was absolutely hilarious. Many times I laughed out loud and some of the amazing situations the main character found herself in. I loved how I was able to really hate Miranda yet at the same time understand her. I also loved the ongoing comentary about the fashion industry and how it objectifies women. All in all, if your looking for a light, funny book to pass your time away this is the book for you.
Date published: 2006-08-02
Rated 3 out of 5 by from Great if you skip over the fashion bits I enjoyed the book and read it pretty much to the end in one sitting because I was curious to see what would happen to Andy after 1 year on the job. I eventually took to skipping the Prada/Gucci/Jimmy Choo ravings in favour of reading the more interesting parts of the story. All in all I was drawn in to the story and bored by the whining at the same time.
Date published: 2006-06-28
Rated 4 out of 5 by from A guilty pleasure Overall the Devil Wears Prada is a worthwhile read for those lazy, lay in the sun summer days. The combination of humour and well-developed, interesting characters will pull you in and make you not want to put the book down until the end. Even though the book tends to drag on a little near the end, it is a great read.
Date published: 2006-06-11
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Great Read Such a great read for anyone whose had a less than perfect boss! As a personal assistant I can see where Andrea is coming from but this book relates to everyone whose come out of school and started working in the "real world". Great book!
Date published: 2006-06-06
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Enjoyable Funny and fast-paced. Great summer reading. A must read for all budding fashionistas!
Date published: 2006-06-01
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Great Summer Read I read this book in a couple days...couldn't put it down! It's definitely entertaining, but I found myself getting stressed out with Andrea. I was reading it before bed and actually had a dream that I was stressed out and being chased by crazy Miranda Priestly! I'm definitely looking forward to reading Weisberger's new book, I enjoy her writing style.
Date published: 2006-05-31
Rated 1 out of 5 by from Disappointing I felt the title was the most original part of this book and it fell flat after the first page. Why anyone would want to endure this book is a mystery. Pick up something else if you want to be entertained.
Date published: 2006-05-28
Rated 2 out of 5 by from Ok I wasn't that impressed. Reading about someone who doesn't ever stand up for herself was rathering uninspiring.
Date published: 2006-03-12
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Great Fun! A great read, on life in the fast lane. Fun to visualize and put yourself into someone else's shoes. I hope that Lauren plans to write a contiuation to the story.
Date published: 2005-11-23
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Fun and funny What this author does to portray her boss is quite funny! We've all had difficult bosses, and this author made me feel like the heroine.
Date published: 2005-11-11
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Loved It !!! Funny, charming, clever. A++
Date published: 2005-10-07
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Fast Paced I really enjoyed this book. I had a hard time putting it down. I had really expected this girl to go through awful things....but it was nice. In this book you are really on her side. You become envious of her job perks, and wish you were there if ONLY for the Prada! She starts out as your regular girl next door...but turns into Manhattan fashionista. You really see the development in the girls character...and it was nice...I would definitely recommend the book...and am looking forward to her next.
Date published: 2005-08-15
Rated 2 out of 5 by from ..thats it? okay, nice title, but it really leads you on. If you want to hear someone complain for 360 pages about a lady that they are scared of and are forced to worship for personal gain (useless asskissing) , you could probably talk to some random people on the street and get a condensed version of such, the only difference is that this involves fashion, which makes it just that little bit better. The ending, well, our heroine didnt exactly win what she was going after, so if you're into the whole metaphorical prize kinda stories then this works. and yeah thats it, it wasnt so great. bye xD
Date published: 2005-07-11
Rated 1 out of 5 by from A Stinker this book started off on the wrong note however it slowly started to get more appealing.....BUT WAIT just when i thought hey this book is not that bad after all it got worse...i kept on reading and reading and nothing would happen it was the most dissapointing novel ever read i didnt even bother reading the ending. Thank god i only waisted a gift card on it not my own money,
Date published: 2005-07-07
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Great!! Couldn't put it down!! This was an amazing book that I simply couldn't put down! I recommend it to anyone who is looking for a fun, amzing novel to read!!
Date published: 2005-06-16
Rated 4 out of 5 by from somewhat above average The climax was barely recognizable and I doubt that if she didn't have such a cute way of writing, the book wouldn't be half as famous as it is now. Lauren is very talented and even with a horrendous storyline, she made it work. Otherwise this book would deserve a three.
Date published: 2005-03-17
Rated 5 out of 5 by from What is woman literature? This book is so fantastic! I had never heard about Anna Wintour and didn't have any interest in fashion world so i can tell that it was really the wonderfull narrative that kept me laughing for the 410 pages. The only thing i can't understand is why it is classified as woman literature. What is that? I am sure men like to laugh and to read a good story as much as us.
Date published: 2005-02-06
Rated 5 out of 5 by from The Devil Wears Prada Excellent read! Too funny! Actually made me laugh out loud. This is a very easy read and I would reccommend it to anybody who wants a nice light entertaining read. A definate addition to your library.
Date published: 2005-02-03
Rated 2 out of 5 by from Disappointing Picked the book up after the funny title and enjoyed reading about the first 2 chapters. The climax was hugely disappointing. I enjoyed this author's quirky writing style--a nice change, too bad the climax took forever to be reached and it was awful at best. The only thing I actually enjoyed was her writing style. I did laugh out loud once or twice on the subway...but in general I was disappointed.
Date published: 2005-02-01
Rated 1 out of 5 by from Why did I just read that? Sometime during a two hour ferry ride I decided to do something other than hide from 'That guy who keeps undressing me with his eyes'. Thus I found myself in the gift shop with this book in one hand and my visa in the other. Another massive blunder. This storyline had a lot of promise, unfortunately it just couldn't get started. I kept wondering if somehow I had managed to miss the climax, or if I had even started climbing the hill. From cover to cover it was a struggle to continue, if you have insommnia then this is the cure you've been looking for. By the last page I couldn't help but wonder why I didn't buy that snowglobe instead.
Date published: 2004-11-25
Rated 5 out of 5 by from great read! couldn't put it down! This is my second time reading this quirky novel. I couldn't get enough. I loved the humour and the put downs of the fashion world. Even though we all know it's not really like that (paris hilton-say no more!!) I thought it was a great novel, and i don't think that it was long enough, I could have sat for five more hours!lol
Date published: 2004-11-16
Rated 5 out of 5 by from devilishy hilarious I thought this was a fabulous book. It was very entertaining and kept me guessing what the devil was up to next and laughing at the outcomes. I highly recommend it
Date published: 2004-09-08
Rated 1 out of 5 by from The Devil is boring I bought this book to take with me on a trip after finding it in a discount bin. The reason it was on sale quickly became evident. I found it uncompelling, trite, and plodding to read. I kept hoping the story would pick up and go somewhere. I was hugely disappointed.
Date published: 2004-09-04
Rated 2 out of 5 by from Too Long I had heard great things about this book; I was very disappointed. It could have been a better book had it been edited a bit better. I think the book repeated itself a lot to demonstrated the craziness of the fashion world. In the end the payoff was just not there. The end did not climax the way I had hoped it would.
Date published: 2004-04-13

Extra Content

Read from the Book

1The light hadn't even officially turned green at the intersection of 17th and Broadway before an army of overconfident yellow cabs roared past the tiny deathtrap I was attempting to navigate around the city streets. Clutch, gas, shift (neutral to first? Or first to second?), release clutch, I repeated over and over in my head, the mantra offering little comfort and even less direction amid the screeching midday traffic. The little car bucked wildly twice before it lurched forward through the intersection. My heart flip-flopped in my chest. Without warning, the lurching evened out and I began to pick up speed. Lots of speed. I glanced down to confirm visually that I was only in second gear, but the rear end of a cab loomed so large in the windshield that I could do nothing but jam my foot on the brake pedal so hard that my heel snapped off. Shit! Another pair of seven-hundred-dollar shoes sacrificed to my complete and utter lack of grace under pressure: this clocked in as my third such breakage this month. It was almost a relief when the car stalled (I'd obviously forgotten to press the clutch when attempting to brake for my life). I had a few seconds--peaceful seconds if one could overlook the angry honking and varied forms of the word "fuck" being hurled at me from all directions--to pull off my Manolos and toss them into the passenger seat. There was nowhere to wipe my sweaty hands except for the suede Gucci pants that hugged my thighs and hips so tightly they'd both begun to tingle within minutes of my securing the final button. My fingers left wet streaks across the supple suede that swathed the tops of my now numb thighs. Attempting to drive this $84,000 stick-shift convertible through the obstacle-fraught streets of midtown at lunchtime pretty much demanded that I smoke a cigarette."Fuckin' move, lady!" hollered a swarthy driver whose chest hair threatened to overtake the wife-beater he wore. "What do you think this is? Fuckin' drivin' school? Get outta the way!"I raised a shaking hand to give him the finger and then turned my attention to the business at hand: getting nicotine coursing through my veins as quickly as possible. My hands were moist again with sweat, evidenced by the matches that kept slipping to the floor. The light turned green just as I managed to touch the fire to the end of the cigarette, and I was forced to leave it hanging between my lips as I negotiated the intricacies of clutch, gas, shift (neutral to first? Or first to second?), release clutch, the smoke wafting in and out of my mouth with each and every breath. It was another three blocks before the car moved smoothly enough for me to remove the cigarette, but it was already too late: the precariously long line of spent ash had found its way directly to the sweat stain on the pants. Awesome. But before I could consider that, counting the Manolos, I'd wrecked $3,100 worth of merchandise in under three minutes, my cell phone bleated loudly. And as if the very essence of life itself didn't suck enough at that particular moment, the caller ID confirmed my worst fear: it was Her. Miranda Priestly. My boss."Ahn-dre-ah! Ahn-dre-ah! Can you hear me, Ahn-dre-ah?" she trilled the moment I snapped my Motorola open--no small feat considering both of my (bare) feet and hands were already contending with various obligations. I propped the phone between my ear and shoulder and tossed the cigarette out the window, where it narrowly missed hitting a bike messenger. He screamed out a few highly unoriginal "fuck yous" before weaving forward."Yes, Miranda. Hi, I can hear you perfectly.""Ahn-dre-ah, where's my car? Did you drop it off at the garage yet?"The light ahead of me blessedly turned red and looked as though it might be a long one. The car jerked to a stop without hitting anyone or anything, and I breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm in the car right now, Miranda, and I should be at the garage in just a few minutes." I figured she was probably concerned that everything was going well, so I reassured her that there were no problems whatsoever and we should both arrive shortly in perfect condition."Whatever," she said brusquely, cutting me off midsentence. "I need you to pick up Madelaine and drop her off at the apartment before you come back to the office." Click. The phone went dead. I stared at it for a few seconds before I realized that she'd deliberately hung up because she had provided all of the details I could hope to receive. Madelaine. Who the hell was Madelaine? Where was she at the moment? Did she know I was to pick her up? Why was she going back to Miranda's apartment? And why on earth--considering Miranda had a full-time driver, housekeeper, and nanny--was I the one who had to do it?Remembering that it was illegal to talk on a cell phone while driving in New York and figuring the last thing I needed at that moment was a run-in with the NYPD, I pulled into the bus lane and switched my flashers on. Breathe in, breathe out, I coached myself, even remembering to apply the parking brake before taking my foot off the regular one. It had been years since I'd driven a stick-shift car--five years, actually, since a high school boyfriend had volunteered his car up for a few lessons that I'd decidedly flunked--but Miranda hadn't seemed to consider that when she'd called me into her office an hour and a half earlier."Ahn-dre-ah, my car needs to be picked up from the place and dropped off at the garage. Attend to it immediately, as we'll be needing it tonight to drive to the Hamptons. That's all." I stood, rooted to the carpet in front of her behemoth desk, but she'd already blocked out my presence entirely. Or so I thought. "That's all, Ahn-dre-ah. See to it right now," she added, still not glancing up.Ah, sure, Miranda, I thought to myself as I walked away, trying to figure out the first step in the assignment that was sure to have a million pitfalls along the way. First was definitely to find out at which "place" the car was located. Most likely it was being repaired at the dealership, but it could obviously be at any one of a million auto shops in any one of the five boroughs. Or perhaps she'd lent it to a friend and it was currently occupying an expensive spot in a full-service garage somewhere on Park Avenue? Of course, there was always the chance that she was referring to a new car--brand unknown--that she'd just recently purchased that hadn't yet been brought home from the (unknown) dealership. I had a lot of work to do.I started by calling Miranda's nanny, but her cell phone went straight to voice mail. The housekeeper was next on the list and, for once, a big help. She was able to tell me that the car wasn't brand-new and it was in fact a "convertible sports car in British racing green," and that it was usually parked in a garage on Miranda's block, but she had no idea what the make was or where it might currently be residing. Next on the list was Miranda's husband's assistant, who informed me that, as far as she knew, the couple owned a top-of-the-line black Lincoln Navigator and some sort of small green Porsche. Yes! I had my first lead. One quick phone call to the Porsche dealership on Eleventh Avenue revealed that yes, they had just finished touching up the paint and installing a new disc-changer in a green Carrera 4 Cabriolet for a Ms. Miranda Priestly. Jackpot!I ordered a Town Car to take me to the dealership, where I turned over a note I'd forged with Miranda's signature that instructed them to release the car to me. No one seemed to care whatsoever that I was in no way related to this woman, that some stranger had cruised into the place and requested someone else's Porsche. They tossed me the keys and only laughed when I'd asked them to back it out of the garage because I wasn't sure I could handle a stick shift in reverse. It'd taken me a half hour to get ten blocks, and I still hadn't figured out where or how to turn around so I'd actually be heading uptown, toward the parking place on Miranda's block that her housekeeper had described. The chances of my making it to 76th and Fifth without seriously injuring myself, the car, a biker, a pedestrian, or another vehicle were nonexistent, and this new call did nothing to calm my nerves.Once again, I made the round of calls, but this time Miranda's nanny picked up on the second ring."Cara, hey, it's me.""Hey, what's up? Are you on the street? It sounds so loud.""Yeah, you could say that. I had to pick up Miranda's Porsche from the dealership. Only, I can't really drive stick. But now she called and wants me to pick up someone named Madelaine and drop her off at the apartment. Who the hell is Madelaine and where might she be?"Cara laughed for what felt like ten minutes before she said, "Madelaine's their French bulldog puppy and she's at the vet. Just got spayed. I was supposed to pick her up, but Miranda just called and told me to pick the twins up early from school so they can all head out to the Hamptons.""You're joking. I have to pick up a fucking dog with this Porsche? Without crashing? It's never going to happen.""She's at the East Side Animal Hospital, on Fifty-second between First and Second. Sorry, Andy, I have to get the girls now, but call if there's anything I can do, OK?"Maneuvering the green beast to head uptown sapped my last reserves of concentration, and by the time I reached Second Avenue, the stress sent my body into meltdown. It couldn't possibly get worse than this, I thought as yet another cab came within a quarter-inch of the back bumper. A nick anywhere on the car would guarantee I lose my job--that much was obvious--but it just might cost me my life as well. Since there was obviously not a parking spot, legal or otherwise, in the middle of the day, I called the vet's office from outside and asked them to bring Madelaine to me. A kindly woman emerged a few minutes later (just enough time for me to field another call from Miranda, this one asking why I wasn't back at the office yet) with a whimpering, sniffling puppy. The woman showed me Madelaine's stitched-up belly and told me to drive very, very carefully because the dog was "experiencing some discomfort." Right, lady. I'm driving very, very carefully solely to save my job and possibly my life--if the dog benefits from this, it's just a bonus.With Madelaine curled up on the passenger seat, I lit another cigarette and rubbed my freezing bare feet so my toes could resume gripping the clutch and brake pedal. Clutch, gas, shift, release clutch, I chanted, trying to ignore the dog's pitiful howls every time I accelerated. She alternated between crying, whining, and snorting. By the time we reached Miranda's building, the pup was nearly hysterical. I tried to soothe her, but she could sense my insincerity--and besides, I had no free hands with which to offer a reassuring pat or nuzzle. So this was what four years of diagramming and deconstructing books, plays, short stories, and poems were for: a chance to comfort a small, white, batlike bulldog while trying not to demolish someone else's really, really expensive car. Sweet life. Just as I had always dreamed.I managed to dump the car at the garage and the dog with Miranda's doorman without further incident, but my hands were still shaking when I climbed into the chauffeured Town Car that had been following me all over town. The driver looked at me sympathetically and made some supportive comment about the difficulty of stick shifts, but I didn't feel much like chatting."Just heading back to the Elias-Clark building," I said with a long sigh as the driver pulled around the block and headed south on Park Avenue. Since I rode the route every day--sometimes twice--I knew I had exactly eight minutes to breathe and collect myself and possibly even figure out a way to disguise the ash and sweat stains that had become permanent features on the Gucci suede. The shoes--well, those were beyond hope, at least until they could be fixed by the fleet of shoemakers Runway kept for such emergencies. The ride was actually over in six and a half minutes, and I had no choice but to hobble like an off-balance giraffe on my one flat, one four-inch heel arrangement. A quick stop in the Closet turned up a brand-new pair of knee-high maroon-colored Jimmy Choos that looked great with the leather skirt I grabbed, tossing the suede pants in the "Couture Cleaning" pile (where the basic prices for dry cleaning started at seventy-five dollars per item). The only stop left was a quick visit to the Beauty Closet, where one of the editors there took one look at my sweat-streaked makeup and whipped out a trunk full of fixers.Not bad, I thought, looking in one of the omnipresent full-length mirrors. You might not even know that mere minutes before I was hovering precariously close to murdering myself and everyone around me. I strolled confidently into the assistants' suite outside Miranda's office and quietly took my seat, looking forward to a few free minutes before she returned from lunch."And-re-ah," she called from her starkly furnished, deliberately cold office. "Where are the car and the puppy?"I leaped out of my seat and ran as fast as was possible on plush carpeting while wearing five-inch heels and stood before her desk. "I left the car with the garage attendant and Madelaine with your doorman, Miranda," I said, proud to have completed both tasks without killing the car, the dog, or myself."And why would you do something like that?" she snarled, looking up from her copy of Women's Wear Daily for the first time since I'd walked in. "I specifically requested that you bring both of them to the office, since the girls will be here momentarily and we need to leave.""Oh, well, actually, I thought you said that you wanted them to--""Enough. The details of your incompetence interest me very little. Go get the car and the puppy and bring them here. I'm expecting we'll be all ready to leave in fifteen minutes. Understood?"From the Hardcover edition.

Editorial Reviews

"[A] funny, biting, low-cal treat."
-Rush & Molloy, The New York Daily News

"A deliciously witty and gossipy first novel."
-Publishers Weekly

"[An] on-the-money kiss-and-tell debut.

From the Hardcover edition.