Poor little rich Vogue. Faced with a recession, it's forced to act like it cares about the financial troubles of its more plebeian readers. This means showcasing gifts from Wal-Mart (horrors!) and recasting expensive clothes as "investments" (don't buy stocks, buy a $2,700 Prada molten-metal mesh off-the-shoulder top). But Vogue still has some of the old spark. There's the venerable Mrs. Exeter, who gives "advice" to a cash-strapped holiday shopper by rattling off her own list of pricey gifts for pals like Oscar de La Renta and Sarah Palin. And there's "Ice Age," in which writer Sarah Mower spends three minutes inside a -275 degree torture chamber in exchange for increased libido and a facial "underglow." All this and more, after the jump.