Prada is a brand based in Italy.
So when Michael Barnason sent out the product placement proposal for The Devil Wears Prada to all parties, the portion belonging to Prada quite naturally flew straight to their headquarters in Milan.
Immediately afterward, Prada's executives gathered and convened an emergency meeting about the matter.
"How do you all see this?"
After confirming that everyone in the conference room had finished reading the invitation from Beaver Entertainment, Prada's CEO Patrizio Bertelli spoke up. "Or rather, does anyone have any ideas?"
"This is outright robbery!"
The Senior Vice President in charge of group marketing shouted angrily. "Yes, our group spends huge sums on marketing every year, and yes, we've cooperated with Hollywood studios many times to place our brand in their films. But in the past, those marketing efforts, those collaborations, were mostly initiated by us!"
"Only a small portion were passive collaborations!"
"And even when we accepted passive collaborations, the negotiations were conducted on equal footing!"
"But what about now?"
"Isabella didn't get our consent and just turned our brand into the title of her movie, and now she wants us to pay for this rude use of our name? How is this any different from outright extortion?"
"And the most important thing is, her asking price is one hundred million pounds!"
Before the marketing SVP had even finished, the Senior Vice President of Finance joined in, yelling, "OMG. What kind of product placement is worth a hundred million?"
"Does she think she's making The Voice?"
"Does she think she's charging us The Voice title sponsorship fees?"
Their shrill voices were grating, like cats with their tails stepped on, but no one in the room paid attention. Instead, everyone nodded in furious agreement.
"Yes, this is highway robbery!"
"Isabella's behavior is absolutely disgusting!"
"Oh, we never provoked her, did we? And she just comes after us proactively? My God, she's basically Satan walking among humans, a devil in human skin!"
The overlapping accusations turned Prada's headquarters conference room into a marketplace.
But just as the cursing continued, a crisp knocking sound suddenly rang out.
The "tap tap tap" wasn't very noticeable in the noise, but everyone understood its implication: quiet.
Almost at the same time, everyone turned toward the sound.
Then the head of the legal department appeared before them.
"Everyone, please stop this meaningless arguing."
"This kind of thing isn't happening for the first time."
"Or do you really think that past invitations from other Hollywood companies were pure and fair?"
"Don't kid yourselves."
"Today's invitation is merely a continuation of the past."
"You didn't dare say no back then. And now?"
"What's the point of shouting here?"
"So let's not rehash things everyone already understands."
"And right now, Mr. Bertelli is asking for a solution."
"He's not asking you to vent your emotions."
As soon as those blunt words were spoken, the executives fell silent.
Though resentment was written all over their faces, not a single person refuted the legal head's words.
Because everyone knew he was telling the truth.
Product placement in Hollywood films had existed for many years.
And it was not the beautiful, win-win business people imagined.
It wasn't mutual benefit between brands and Hollywood giants. It was a one-sided slaughter.
Take Coca-Cola as an example. People often say that Coca-Cola acquired Columbia Pictures back then to help the world better understand itself through product placement in films.
But that's just a polished explanation.
The real reason was that, for many years, Coca-Cola had been brutally fleeced by Hollywood giants.
In an era when the internet was underdeveloped and information traveled slowly, Hollywood studios controlled the narrative and priced film product placements however they pleased. For example, if a modern film could feature a soda brand, they would contact both Coca-Cola and Pepsi and tell them that whoever paid more would be portrayed positively, while the other would be the villain.
Yes. Open extortion.
Of course, you could refuse.
Coca-Cola once relied on its high market share and refused to accept this unlimited bidding.
But Hollywood studios could openly smear you.
Whenever they filmed a scene involving drinking, they would have the protagonist toss Coca-Cola away like trash.
This directly blew up Coca-Cola's brand image.
In the end, Coca-Cola raised the white flag.
They paid.
At this point, some might wonder why Coca-Cola didn't use legal means to protect itself.
Because Hollywood giants were openly smearing Coca-Cola, and if Coca-Cola sued, they would definitely win.
But here's the thing—
Coca-Cola was a giant, yes, but from the start, they wore suits.
Hollywood, on the other hand, in that era:
MGM's boss had underworld ties and ran casinos.
Warner's boss had underworld ties and collected protection money.
Paramount and Fox's bosses were in oil.
Universal's boss seemed to be in music but was actually in nationwide ticketing, the kind of business where local strongmen followed you everywhere.
The only "civilized" one, Disney, didn't make live-action films and didn't sell product placement.
So—
Those who know the times survive.
Precisely because Coca-Cola had been extorted too many times, they acquired Columbia. They wanted to tell Hollywood: now we have a counter-weapon. If you smear us again, we will smear you back.
If even Coca-Cola couldn't get a good deal in front of Hollywood capital, other brands fared even worse.
Tiffany paid one million dollars in "protection fees" for Breakfast at Tiffany's.
That was one million dollars in 1960.
In fact, the Tiffany brand and Breakfast at Tiffany's were not mutually beneficial at all. The original novel was a satire of high society. When it was published, Tiffany strongly tried to stop it, but failed.
Later, when Paramount announced it would adapt the novel into a film, Tiffany very knowingly went to offer money.
The total budget of the film was only 2.5 million dollars. Tiffany paid one million just to ask Paramount to go easy.
Because almost every well-known brand had been extorted by Hollywood capital, when Prada's legal head saw Beaver Entertainment asking for one hundred million, his first reaction was that the price was indeed high.
His second reaction was that even if it was expensive, they still had to pay.
Because—
"Your silence means you agree with what I said?"
"If so, I'll share my view."
"Fashion is inseparable from media, and we are the least able to withstand public opinion."
"So when Isabella has Time Warner in her left hand and Disney in her right, if she's even slightly unhappy, she can destroy us. Therefore, spending one hundred million to sponsor a film is, in my opinion, very worthwhile. Think of it as paying for survival."
Lies don't hurt. Truth cuts like a knife.
Those blunt words plunged Prada's conference room into dead silence.
After the legal head laid the facts bare, no one knew how to respond.
In this situation, Miuccia Prada, granddaughter of the founder and the company's chief designer, sighed softly.
"Pay them."
"Consider it buying peace."
"But before we pay, we need to negotiate."
"We can pay the money, and if they need clothing or locations during filming, we can provide them. Even shooting at our headquarters is fine. But after they take the money, they cannot continue smearing us in the film, and we must send someone to their crew as a consultant."
"Nominally, a fashion consultant, but in reality—"
"Keep a close eye on things, hmm?"
Miuccia Prada spoke through her nose and raised an eyebrow at everyone.
Since the largest shareholder had decided, no one else objected. Everyone nodded.
At the same time, among the "blue-blood" luxury houses: Chanel, Dior, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, CK; and among the "red-blood" houses: Hermès, Saint Laurent, Givenchy, Armani, Lanvin, Valentino, Versace, Burberry; they were all holding meetings as well, because of the product placement proposals sent by Michael Barnason.
Honestly, any rational person would think that spending fifty million to sponsor a film was an extremely stupid move, even if the lead star was the hottest celebrity of the moment, Isabella.
But no matter how unhappy they were, they didn't dare say no.
The reason was simple.
Just as Prada's legal head said, when Isabella could influence the world's two largest media conglomerates, brands most afraid of public opinion did not dare anger her. And Time Warner and Disney were only the easiest media groups for her to influence, not all of them. Beyond them—
If Isabella told the companies that bought The Voice operating rights, "I don't want next year's license fees. I just want you to publish an article saying luxury goods are an IQ tax," the entire luxury industry would collapse overnight.
Because no company in the world could withstand simultaneous smearing by Time Warner, Disney, BBC, and other media giants. Even symbols of demographic decline could only go after the BBC after reaching the peak.
So—
"Pay up. Fifty million pounds it is."
"But we need a contract. Our logo must have at least five seconds of clear, frontal exposure in the film."
"And the movie is called The Devil Wears Prada? Then Prada must be the one paying the most!"
"So—"
"Prada can't stand on our heads. If fifty million pounds can't put us on equal footing with Prada—"
"We can add more!"
Michael Barnason sent out the collaboration invitations to major luxury brands on the evening of September 29.
By the evening of September 30, he had already received all the replies.
The god-tier speed made him both emotional and amused.
He could guess what lay behind their actions.
Whether people admit it or not, North America was the center of the world. The largest media groups had just undergone an internal purge, and now they were eyeing them.
At a time like this, anyone who hesitated under such scrutiny might very well be killed as an example.
Yes.
The Devil Wears Prada wasn't Isabella's personal project.
Its true external banner was Time Warner.
People thought Isabella could control everything simply because everyone knew Barry Meyer wouldn't manage anyone but her.
After Isabella heard Barnason's report and understood everyone's stance—
"So I've become a robber?"
Isabella looked a bit mentally broken.
She was clearly a legitimate businesswoman.
So—
"Isabella, suffering won't make you superior."
"So—"
"Everyone understands how things work."
Isabella pursed her lips.
Since Barnason put it that way, she stopped pretending.
Ahem.
At present, part of her assets only looked clean on the surface.
"Okay. Since they're willing to raise the price, then let each of them pay one hundred million."
"Then show them the script and accept the consultants they send."
"They're paying, so we should give them some authority."
"Otherwise—"
"Wouldn't it really become robbery?"
Since these luxury companies insisted on offering the money, Isabella accepted it with a smile.
With fourteen red-blood and blue-blood top luxury houses in total—
"What? You directly asked each luxury brand for one hundred million? And in pounds?"
Barry Meyer learned on October 10 that the Prada project had already turned a profit.
Because all the major brands had wired over their "protection fees."
Then he was completely stunned by the income figure: 1.4 billion pounds, roughly 2.4 billion US dollars.
After he finished understanding the whole sequence of events, he didn't waste a single second and immediately called Isabella.
No choice. He was genuinely scared by Isabella's absurdly large move.
"Just opening your mouth and extorting 2.4 billion?"
"Are you out of your damn mind?"
"Hey, Barry, watch your wording. What do you mean I asked each luxury brand for one hundred million? They were the ones insisting on sponsoring my movie, voluntarily handing over one hundred million each!"
"And stop putting on an act in front of me."
"Right now, you're definitely laughing your head off inside."
"Sure, this 2.4 billion dollars is product placement money paid to me, but on paper, it's Time Warner's revenue."
"And you just kicked Ted Turner and Steve Case out, and suddenly your books show an extra 2.4 billion in cash?"
"Wow. That's real performance. Bulletproof performance. Nobody can nitpick that."
"Am I right, Barry?"
Isabella's words curled like a fox's tail, tracing a graceful arc through the air.
As she spoke, Barry Meyer's face had already broken into a smile. As the conversation went on, the old man's grin grew wider and wider, until by the time she finished, he burst out laughing.
"Oh, Isa, nothing ever gets past you."
As soon as her rhetorical question landed, Barry Meyer's laughter poured into her ears.
The old man said happily, "Just like you said."
"I'm very happy right now."
"Extremely, absurdly happy!"
In the eyes of top luxury brands, Isabella's behavior was outright extortion.
But outcomes aren't decided just because someone thinks or feels a certain way.
For example, now that all the protection money was being paid into the dedicated account for Prada, that money officially became brand promotion fees paid to the project team. Even if the amount looked a bit high.
Fine. A lot high.
Once 1.4 billion pounds appeared in Time Warner's account, even if the money would eventually flow back into Isabella's pocket, just routing it through Warner's books was enough to give Barry Meyer solid, undeniable performance metrics.
Don't underestimate that kind of performance.
Revenue spikes are extremely rare for large conglomerates.
NVIDIA has already sold its gold-mining shovels to the sky, yet its Q1 2025 revenue was only about 57 billion dollars.
Even with net profit at 31.9 billion, operating cash flow was just 23.7 billion.
Take a close look at their financials and you'll see they're basically running on acrobatics.
So now, Warner's account suddenly gets an extra 2.4 billion dollars in cash in one shot?
That alone would blind everyone reviewing Barry Meyer's annual performance.
Or put another way, even if some Time Warner shareholders were still furious about him kicking out Ted Turner and Steve Case, once 2.4 billion in cash hit the books, they'd just have to pinch their noses and swallow it.
After laughing, Barry Meyer said, "Still, Isa, I have to say, you've got serious guts. You really dared to name that price. I'm serious. Very, very serious."
"Isn't that because you gave me the courage?" Isabella replied cheerfully.
"They're not just afraid of me. They're afraid of you, and Bob too, everyone."
"So, as a thank-you, I bought Marvel's shares at the original price. You know what I mean, right?"
"Oh, of course. Of course I know what you mean, my dear Isabella."
Her words made Barry Meyer burst into laughter again.
He shouted, "That 270 million will be gladly accepted by Jeffrey Bewkes and me!"
"Thank you for your generosity!"
Even though Isabella wanted to keep all 1.4 billion pounds of product placement fees for herself, that was unrealistic.
She couldn't pull in that money alone.
So Barry Meyer had to take a cut. Jeffrey Bewkes had to take a cut. Michael Barnason, who did the legwork, director Chris Columbus, even Disney CEO Robert Iger, all had to get their share.
The first group was easy, since it could all be routed through Warner's accounts.
Everyone is extremely experienced when it comes to stuffing gold into their own pockets.
As for the latter group—
Isabella called Robert Iger.
Then Disney's kingmaker replied, "Isa, you don't need to split the money with me."
"Just getting a call from you makes me happy. It proves we're real allies."
"But if you really want to show appreciation…"
"I heard Barry signed Iron Man with you?"
"But Kevin Feige wants to do more."
"So how about leaving the later Marvel films to Disney?"
"If you don't want to sell the IP, that's fine. Let us make them."
"Oh, no problem, Bob. That's nothing."
Isabella accepted Iger's deal with a smile.
Profit-sharing was never just about money.
Resources, power, anything that could circulate in human society could be traded.
After accidentally becoming a proper Anglo-Saxon for once, Isabella felt refreshed to her core.
She admitted it. Robbery was immoral and illegal.
But after a successful robbery?
It felt damn good.
Less than half a month, and 2 billion dollars in hand?
What business makes money faster than outright extortion?
After confirming payment timing and methods with Barry Meyer, Isabella's smile never left her face.
So much so that on October 29, while attending the signing event for The Half-Blood Prince, J.K. Rowling teased her.
"Oh, Isa. Is that the smile of someone who made 1.4 billion overnight?"
"That grin of yours…"
"Tsk. It's stronger than a permanent smile."
"Oh, Joanne, don't make fun of me. I'm suffering terribly right now."
As soon as Rowling spoke, Isabella immediately put on a pitiful expression.
Rowling clearly understood, and after asking why—
Isabella said seriously, "Because this money has filled my life with endless anxiety."
"Before, I worked hard to make money because I wanted a better life. But now, when I wake up and see a cold 1.4 billion sitting in my account, all I hear is a voice saying, 'You need to spend it fast.'"
"Otherwise, the tax paperwork alone will suffocate me."
"Honestly, I really miss the days when I made a couple hundred thousand per movie."
"Back then, I didn't live in anxiety like this every day."
Rowling froze.
She looked deeply at Isabella, then turned to Catherine, who was barely holding in her laughter.
Rowling said, "Catherine, if I remember correctly, Isa won't officially turn sixteen until next year?"
"Mm."
Catherine nodded, understood immediately, and patted her chest. "Don't worry, Joanne. Whatever injuries my sister gets from now on, she tripped by herself. I'll testify."
"Catherine, what do you mean by that?"
As soon as her sister spoke, Isabella panicked.
Before she could protest twice, Rowling hooked an arm around her neck and pinched her cheeks.
"Isa! Aren't you unhappy? Come on, cry for me!"
Isabella felt her life flashing before her eyes.
She immediately surrendered. "Joanne, I was joking!"
The Half-Blood Prince signing was originally planned for the summer.
But Rowling had another baby, so it got pushed to just before Halloween.
From a business standpoint, that delay should have hurt sales.
Winter is cold, and people buy less when it's cold.
But common sense is common sense. HP is HP.
On October 29, 2005, The Half-Blood Prince officially went on sale. Within the first 24 hours, sales in the UK and US alone hit 7 million copies, implying global sales of at least 10 million.
When Isabella saw that, she was insanely jealous.
Ten million physical copies in one day would be explosive in any field.
Or rather, selling for one day equaled what countless authors would never achieve in a lifetime.
It was just—
"Don't be jealous. I believe you'll reach similar numbers very soon."
October 30, 2005, Rowling's home.
Watching Isabella play with her youngest daughter Mackenzie, Rowling sipped coffee and said leisurely, "You'll write songs for Prada, right? So next year, your album will sell ten million copies in 24 hours."
"Because right now, more than ten million people are willing to pay for you."
"And if you don't hit ten million in 24 hours, that's fine."
"HP still has one final book left. I haven't finished writing it yet, but if you need help, I can reluctantly bundle your album with the finale."
"I have one condition. The songs on your album have to be related to HP."
"Hahahahaha—"
As she finished, Vivian, Catherine, Rowling's husband Murray, and everyone else burst out laughing.
Everyone knew Rowling was deliberately messing with Isabella.
Yesterday, Isabella said making 1.4 billion in a day was painful.
Today, Rowling could say selling ten million books in a day was just so-so.
Showing off isn't exactly a rare skill.
Watching Rowling delicately hold her coffee cup and tilt her chin toward the sky, Isabella's face fell.
Running into a grandmaster of bragging really wasn't fun.
But then—
She got a wicked idea.
Turning Mackenzie toward Rowling, Isabella pointed at Rowling. "Your mom. Bad."
Then turning Mackenzie toward herself, she pointed at her own face. "Sister. Good."
Now it was Rowling's turn to scowl. "Isabella, are you asking for it?"
She spoke slowly, word by word.
Isabella smiled, hugged the baby tighter, and kept whispering. "Mackenzie, see? Your mom is really scary."
After the Half-Blood Prince signing, time rolled into November 2005.
Although Goblet of Fire (Part Two) had wrapped in mid-October, production on Prada didn't start immediately because Columbus was utterly exhausted and needed a proper break.
So on the day Goblet of Fire wrapped, he took his whole family on vacation.
That finally gave Isabella some rare leisure time.
Well. After arranging the major work for Prada, she'd basically been resting anyway.
She visited the Royal Island she had purchased. Construction had already begun, just as she imagined. A castle would rise there.
There would also be a small animal park, housing capybaras, small otters, and little beavers.
Why not marmots?
Too many viruses. Not suitable for captive breeding.
The ruins were preserved as well, and even during construction, there were forty security personnel on the island.
Three shifts. Well organized.
Next, she toured Australia in the Southern Hemisphere. Robbie hadn't worked all year and had stayed on the Goblet of Fire set, basically serving Her Highness.
So after wrapping up her work, Vivian suggested visiting her family.
And—
They were incredibly welcoming.
Isabella's arrival made them genuinely excited.
She stayed at Robbie's family ranch for several days, and leaving was hard.
No choice. The ranch was enormous.
Horse riding, cattle riding, herding sheep, fishing, grass skiing. You could do anything.
Still, primary industries let you survive. Getting rich off them is hard.
After two weeks in Australia, leaving Robbie home for the holidays, Isabella went on to New Zealand.
With a huge influx of cash, the Southern Hemisphere island-buying plan was back on.
This time, they set their sights on Slipper Island.
It sat right off New Zealand's main island, covering about 224 hectares, 2.24 million square meters.
The asking price was 20 million NZ dollars. Isabella agreed without hesitation.
Converted to USD, it was just over 10 million. Dirt cheap.
Even if turning it into a vacation paradise would cost another 200 million—
Whether dollars or pounds, Isabella still thought it was cheap.
No helping it.
Anglo-Saxon racial talents are absurdly overpowered.
Maybe it was the rest.
Or maybe being in a good mood made everything look pleasant.
In short, even by mid-November, when Susie notified her that she needed to report to the Prada crew in New York by the 20th, Isabella wasn't annoyed at all. She accepted it with a smile.
And when she arrived on schedule and formally met the main creative team—
On November 20, The Devil Wears Prada officially entered production.