A sharp, witty and hugely entertaining debut novel, The Devil Wears Prada is set in the world of high fashion.
When Andrea first sets foot in the plush Manhattan offices of Runway she knows nothing. She's never heard of the world's most fashionable magazine, or its feared and fawned-over editor, Miranda Priestly. But she's going to be Miranda's assistant, a job millions of girls would die for. A year later, she knows altogether too much:
*that it's a sacking offence to wear anything lower than a three-inch heel to work;
*that eight stone is fat;
*that you can charge cars, manicures, just about anything at all to the Runway account, but you must never leave your desk or let Miranda's coffee get cold.
That at 3 a.m. on a Sunday, when your boyfriend's dumping you because you're always at work, and your best friend's just been arrested, if Miranda phones, you jump.
Most of all, Andrea knows that Miranda is a monster who makes Cruella de Ville look like a fluffy bunny. But this is her big break, and it's going to be worth it in the end.Isn't it?