The Perfect Find: Finding Myself Again in Fashion

When The Devil Wears Prada came out, I was still trying to find my footing. I was just a girl on the edge of a dream that didn’t yet have a name. I watched it right before college, wide-eyed, convinced that was what success in fashion looked like: high heels, chaos, and a corner office that could see all of Manhattan.

And I’ll be honest; that movie still means something to me. I love it to this day. But the truth is, The Devil Wears Prada didn’t feel real. It felt unreachable. Not just because Andy Sachs was a young white woman who landed her dream job straight out of college, but because I didn’t. I didn’t walk into a major fashion magazine after graduation. I didn’t have a Miranda Priestly or a “Runway” moment waiting for me.

What I had was life'; the long version. The version that required faith, detours, and coming back to myself again and again. And I might have to again.

That’s why The Perfect Find touched me so differently. When I saw it in my 30s The Perfect Find written by Tia Williams and brought to life by Gabrielle Union something in me shifted. Jenna, the main character, is a Black woman who’s starting over. She’s been through heartbreak, disappointment, and time. She’s not 21 and starry-eyed; she’s rebuilding her voice in an industry that doesn’t always make space for women who’ve lived a little.

It wasn’t about chasing fashion anymore ; it was about finding yourself in it again. Falling in love with yourself and fashion again.

And it’s not to take away from The Devil Wears Prada, because that movie still taught me ambition and work ethic. But when I needed reassurance; when I needed to know that it wasn’t too late, that I could still begin again and still belong; The Perfect Find gave me that.

There’s this quiet moment in the film when Jenna’s boss, Darcy, opens up about how becoming a mother changed her life. She doesn’t romanticize it — she says it was hard. That everything shifted. Her goals, her drive, her momentum — all of it had to find a new rhythm. That moment stayed with me because it was honest.

Because when I found out I was pregnant with my son, it was right after I’d quit my job. I had plans to launch Labelwhorelife my own luxury consignment store full-time. I was finally ready to take the risk, to bet on myself. And then life changed. I got scared. I paused. Everything slowed down.

Watching Jenna’s story reminded me that sometimes the dream doesn’t unfold in a straight line. Sometimes it stops, reshapes itself, and asks you to start over not because you’ve failed, but because life has shifted around you.

And that’s exactly what The Perfect Find captured. It reminded me that you can be successful, talented, and still scared. You can be a mother and still have dreams that belong solely to you. You can start again without apology.

For me, The Perfect Find wasn’t just a romantic comedy it was a reflection of what happens when women, especially Black women, decide to rewrite their story on their own terms.

As a Black woman, seeing that done masterfully mattered even more. Because representation isn’t just about being visible; it’s about being understood.

That film reminded me that the dream doesn’t always look the way we imagined it. Sometimes you don’t get the “Runway” job at 22. Sometimes you go back to school three times. Sometimes you become a mother in the middle of trying to build something new.

And still, somehow, you find your way back.

That’s what The Overdressed Black Girl is for me; a way back.
A reminder that our paths may twist, pause, and shift, but the dream remains.
Even when it looks different, it’s still ours to create.