Sequins, Sisterhood & a Slightly Dramatic Evacuation: A Night at The Devil Wears Prada

A Film That Became Tradition

There are some films that quietly sit in your life, and then there are films like The Devil Wears Prada — the ones that become ritual, language, and, in my case, a long-running sisterly tradition.

My sister has loved this film for as long as I can remember. When we lived together, it wasn’t unusual for it to be playing on repeat — a kind of comforting, fashionable background hum to our lives. So when the long-awaited sequel finally arrived, this wasn’t just a movie night. This was an occasion.

I booked the tickets with intention. It had to be perfect.

Back to Surry Hills

We started where all good Sydney evenings should — in Surry Hills, a place that holds a quiet nostalgia for me. I lived there in my early twenties, and walking those streets again felt like flipping through an old photo album.

At one point, I stopped to photograph a terrace house with a bold red door — charming, familiar, and somehow grounding. Funny how places remember you, even when you’ve been away.

Wine, Warm Light & Bar Copains

From there, we found ourselves at Bar Copains — the kind of wine bar you almost don’t want to talk about, for fear it becomes impossible to get into.

We arrived around 4:30pm on a Thursday, smug in our timing… only to realise we were already cutting it fine. Within minutes, the place was full. By the time we left, there was a line down the street — and honestly, I understand why.

The food was exceptional. We shared Roasted Kabocha Pumpkin, Almonds, Goats Curd, Espelette, alongside potato scallops with sour cream and chives — simple, elevated, and utterly delicious. Add a beautiful glass of Chardonnay, and it was the kind of prelude that sets the tone for everything that follows.

Gold Class… Sort Of

Then, it was time. An Uber down to George Street, where the main event awaited.

We met our friend Trudy, who had been just as invested in the evening’s perfection — perhaps even more so. In a last-minute win, we managed to secure her a ticket, but not quite where we were.

While Liza and I had what felt like the best seats in the house, Trudy was placed all the way down the front in seat 1A. Not ideal, but crisis averted — she was in the room, and that was all that mattered.

Quick orders, a bit of seat reshuffling logistics, and then we were in.

Miranda Still Has It

And the film?

Pure joy.

Meryl Streep as Miranda Priestly is still everything — sharp, commanding, impossibly chic. At one point, she appears in a breathtaking sequinned ensemble — a two-piece, I think — paired with a crisp white jacket. Effortless power dressing at its finest.

Naturally, I’ve been trying to find an image of it ever since, with absolutely no success. It’s mildly infuriating, because I now feel personally committed to recreating it.

An Unexpected Intermission

And then, just as we were nearing the end…

The emergency evacuation alarm sounded.

Because of course it did.

We were ushered out onto George Street, along with a crowd of equally bewildered (and slightly overdressed) moviegoers. There’s something uniquely bonding about standing on a city street mid-film, collectively wondering how Miranda Priestly would handle this situation. (Impeccably, I assume.)

Forty-five minutes later, we were back in our seats — and, to the cinema’s credit, the film resumed just before where we’d left off. Crisis averted. Drama contained. Miranda would approve.

Dancing Into the Night at Razz Room

But the night wasn’t over yet.

Trudy and I continued on to Razz Room, a newly opened underground bar on York Street that feels like stepping into another era — if that era had better lighting and an excellent cocktail list.

It’s part disco, part daiquiri bar, with an upper level for relaxed drinks and a sunken dance floor that slowly comes to life as the night unfolds.

Early in the evening, it’s social and easy — the kind of place where you can still hear each other speak. But as the hours pass, the music builds, the energy shifts, and suddenly you’re in the middle of something far more electric. DJs, live performances, a crowd that clearly understands the assignment — it’s polished without trying too hard.

Not Perfect, But Perfect Anyway

Looking back, it wasn’t perfect in the way I’d planned. There were small hiccups, unexpected interruptions, and a slightly chaotic evacuation.

But maybe that’s exactly what made it memorable.

A nostalgic walk through Surry Hills.
An exceptional meal.
A film that felt like coming home.
Friends who showed up — in every sense of the word.
And a dance floor waiting at the end of it all.

Not bad for a Thursday night.

And somewhere in all of that, a quiet reminder: the best moments rarely go exactly to plan — but they almost always turn out better than expected.