To Ms. Wintour;

Any one of us who has a passion for fashion knows that websites have been blazing lately with rumor, innuendo and prognostications on the health of Vogue.

I’m a Vogue subscriber who each month looked forward to finding it in my mailbox. It was my pleasure to lounge with it in my lap in front of my sunny window, savoring it, transporting my imagination. Since its first print date, generations ago, Vogue was conceived to be the exemplar of fantasy luxury...the aesthetic of clothes as artistic expressions of self-image.

Vogue was an elite dream book that scented the work-a day world.

For too long a time now my ardor for Vogue has diminished.

As I reach the last page and close the back cover I realize the fragrance of a past love has dissipated and on my fingers lingers the mundane smell of “Eau de News Print.”

The covers themselves have been screaming, obtrusive blurbs of text, awkward graphics stuck around posed celebrities. And can’t the endless covers of movie "stars" be given a rest? There are a glut of magazines out there that cater to that market. I'm not reading Vogue because it's made itself into some glossed up version of a People magazine with high-end advertisers.

Yes, there is the money making side of things. Fashion is a business at bottom, like every other commodity in our consumer society goods are promoted to generate sales. Can’t the profit motive be reconciled to the mission of maintaining and nurturing Vogue's genetic vision?

Praise for you has actually come from bloggers, who would see you in the pantheon of prestige enjoyed by populist rag trade hawkers. One of your cheerleaders applauded you for knowing:

 “who actually spends money on her mags, and perhaps she should put some energy into the shopping mall for once!”  

"Shopping mall" and Vogue magazine linked together? It should be thought of as uncongenial a concept as pairing beer with caviar.

Ms. Wintour, Let’s toast the sweet smell of success and hurl the beer mugs into the fireplace.