We all have to face the fact that we’re not getting younger. I’ve done it – I’ve listened to Olivia Rodrigo and felt the sands of youth pass me by. I’ve seen Greta Thunberg out there in the world and understood that she’s done more in the first decade of her life than I will do, ever. But if there’s one thing that I wasn’t prepared for, it was realizing that even fictional people could be younger than me.
This discovery was made one fateful evening, when I decided to put on the delightful 2000s romp The Devil Wears Prada. A harmless hour and 46 minutes of Meryl Streep stingers and charming mid-2000s outfits, right? Wrong. Nothing was the same after the first few minutes when Anne Hathaway’s character told Miranda Priestly that she was fresh out of college. That’s when I realized this bitch was barely older than a lanyard-clad freshman getting lost in the dorms, while I was at an age where I called my college my ‘alma mater’ and was closer to a reunion than graduation.
It’s just objectively wrong and, frankly, it should be illegal.
I was fine thinking Andrea Sachs was in that vague 20-something era of shitty apartments and shitty jobs that could span anywhere from 25 to 32. Hell, I would even be fine if she were my age and also struggling in an entry-level job that a million girls would kill for. But being 22, which is basically still a minor, which basically means she’s still a child? Was it even legal for her to be out and about without a parent or guardian?
Hearing those words “I just graduated” was like being forced to swallow the red pill – reality as I knew it was forever altered. Suddenly, all of her professional triumphs over Miranda were sharp reminders that even in this fictional world, there were 22-year-olds more successful in their careers than me. Every designer outfit she wore turned into slaps in the face that this barely-legal adult could wear fucking Chanel everyday while I’m still in my I-can-wear-this-shirt-one-more-time-before-laundry phase. I suddenly understood Emily’s ire when Andy was chosen to go to Paris over her – how dare she get to go to Paris Fashion Week when she probably wasn’t even alive during 9/11?!
There is no reason for any main character to be younger than me, unless it is an animated film made to entertain children. You are either an eight-year-old talking cat in a Disney movie or you are Michael Douglas playing a man making the most of his twilight years, probably with Morgan Freeman. There should be no in-between. I watch movies to escape the ennui of growing older, not to be constantly assaulted by the fact that I am no longer 22 and fresh out of college.
I’ve learned my lesson – I guess I’ll just watch 80 For Brady every week from now on!
