2012 American Vogue was strong. As usual, the cover and coverstory were the weakest. Mario Sorrenti's, Peter’s, and Craig’s stories are supreme. What’s more impressive, are the smaller feature stories: Riccardo, Nicki, Felicity, Kristin are all brought up to the high standards of clean, fresh American glamour— unlike these days, where the subjects may as well be a selfie quickly taken in their bathroom. The consistent high standards of imagery and an actual POV confidently run throughout this issue— unlike these schizophrenic days, where it’s all over the place, and without any POV. And absolutely no understanding of glamour whatsoever to boot.