Shopping & Services

The car still runs like a top, but the leather driver seat reveals the wear of a thousand butt-hours? Take it to Brunner's, in business for 25 years. Butch and Henry Brunner can repair slashes, burns and other calamities that befoul the softer parts of your chariot, whether it runs on land or water. They'll also replace glass and repair interior water damage. "Convertible tops are our specialty," says employee Kelly Steger. "And last week we had a car with a cigarette burn in the carpet. We just repaired it instead of replacing it. You couldn't tell it was ever there."

The new Sam Moon is only a stumble away from the old Sam Moon on Harry Hines Boulevard, but the larger parking area feels like a whole new world. The crowds are still crazy, and the patrons are still overly aggressive, but with more space, there's less a chance of injury. Who are we kidding, though? They could move Sam Moon to an un-air-conditioned warehouse in the bowels of the suburbs, and we'd still make the jaunt for the shiny baubles and "designer-inspired" handbags. We blame it on the cheap, sparkly chandelier earrings; we swear they hypnotize us.

We've seen the movie High Fidelity. Even thought about reading the book once. So we get the whole music-clerk snob thing. But it doesn't impress us. Not even a little bit. That's why we shop at CD Source in the Old Town shopping center. These folks know music, and their eclectic stock is often surprising. But by no means are these music clerks snobs. They know that people have different tastes, and they cater to everyone without prejudice. So we bought an Ashlee Simpson CD. Sue us. But even if the folks at CD Source looked down their noses at our poor taste in music and robbed us of our guilt-free shopping, we'd probably still go there. The prices are low, the new arrivals section always has something we want and their buy-back rates are pretty decent, too.

Readers' Pick

CD World

2706 E. Mockingbird Lane, #110

214-826-1885

A man, at least once in his life, needs to go Tom Wolfe, take the money he saved for the kids' education and buy himself a killer suit. The best place to shop is at Neiman Marcus on Main Street in downtown. There he'll find Oxxford, Zegna, Armani, Hickey Freeman, Paul Smith and Brioni suits. And he'll find them in bulk, racks upon wonderfully tailored racks of clothing--as well as made-for-measure fabrics in the store, which result in still more clothing options. Neiman's is seldom busy during the weekday. Yet the sales associates do not meddle with a man's browsing habits. They answer questions when needed, sure, but then return to their spaces, and the browsing continues. Suits start at $900 and can run upward of $3,000. Tuxedos there can go for more than $4,000. Belts, ties, shoes, all the other accessories that accommodate a man looking great--they're available, too. Plus, a man can get a shave at Neiman Marcus, so there's no way he's leaving ugly, which leaves only one thing to do: strut.

Though he's never let us paint his toenails, our boyfriend has submitted to some of our tamer grooming requests--i.e., "Let me pluck your eyebrows, sweetie." He probably didn't feel very manly as we fluttered around with our cold wax and tiny tweezers, bent on reshaping his brow growth. For men who are not quite as patient or just prefer to put themselves in the hands of professionals, Aqua Spa offers a "men only" night the last Wednesday of every month, where guys can indulge in massage, waxing, facials and other spa services without having to worry about disapproving looks from over-tanned trophy wives. If he still balks at a buttocks waxing (yes, they offer that), tell him, "That's OK, I'll just let my body hair grow out, too."

There have been definite scares--chocolate eating, a hip out of socket, rashes, vomiting, swollen butts and open sores. Throughout our pets' varied afflictions, City Vet has offered consistent, kindly care at decent prices. Their convenient drop-off service--you can drop off your pets as early as 7 a.m. and pick them up as late as 7 p.m. --ensures that you won't have to miss a day of work to take your pup for her annual checkup. Plus, City Vet offers boarding and doggie day care at some of the best rates we've seen. And the webcam--so you can check up on your little prince or princess in day care--is an added bonus, and a great way to waste time at work.

Imagine a paradise where every woman of every size and every style can find something to wear, from a size 2 petite to a size 22 tall. From Gap spunky sweaters to Ann Taylor pleated skirts. And did we mention almost everything costs less than $20? And there are shoes and purses? If you don't believe us, just spend a few minutes perusing the neatly organized, clearly marked racks of Garland Road Thrift. We've seen Liz Claiborne jacket-and-skirt suits with the Foley's price tags still attached and this-season Lane Bryant's Venezia-label jean skirts for a third of the regular retail price. And then there are the Grace Kelly-worthy vintage wool and faux fur coats--the kind of stuff you'll never find at a department store. So stop being a snob, put on some jeans and a T-shirt and get ready to slide hundreds of metal hangers across rows upon rows of racks in search of the perfect new (to you) blouse or slacks. In no time, you'll be cursing that there are only two dressing rooms.

Readers' Pick

Banana Republic

Various locations

We like to think we know a lot about wine. The truth is, we just know how to drink a lot of wine, and a trip to the liquor store can be a comic search not for good bottles but for good labels. Smoking Loon? Sold. (Because the loon is actually smoking!) Toad Hollow? In the belly. That's why Best Cellars is so freaking fantastic. Not only are most of the bottles under $15, but they'll actually let you taste the wine before buying it, like at an ice cream store. The salespeople are sharp and not the least bit condescending. The whole place is so sparkling and lovely that it makes us want to buy tons and tons of wine, which, when we think about it, is kind of a bad thing. We don't really need encouragement.

Situations that call for formal attire: irritating high school dances, weddings, galas and, sometimes, Halloween. For guys, a tuxedo fills the bill and can be used time and again without suspicion. Just pick a new tie. For the ladies, however, each event requires a special statement, a distinct look. Almeta Gold has all those occasions mastered. A professional seamstress who works out of a studio in her home, Gold can create a design, work from a pattern, combine patterns and even assist in finding the perfect fabrics for certain styles, figures and events. She creates magic in prom, homecoming and fund-raiser formals, and yes, she has bridal gowns down as well. And don't even question her alteration skills. Gold has taken a vintage gown down six sizes for us after we found it for a steal and had to have it despite the size. She's instructed us on how to care for a 1954 silk brocade number we had to have mended. And if you bought fabric for a dress only to decide it would look better on the window, Gold can create drapes and window treatments.

Readers' Pick

Write Selection

314 Preston Royal Shopping Center

214-750-0531

Nobody, and we mean nobody, looks forward to a pelvic examination. Scheduling a Pap smear or, rather, a "well woman exam" is like slating off some time for freakish internal pain. Hence, the buildup to a gyno appointment is a nerve-wracking time. Now we're in no way saying we've had fun at such an appointment, but at Women to Women Health Associates, we felt at ease in the waiting area, in the exam room and after. This clinic is 100 percent women-run. It's not that we don't trust male doctors; we just figure a woman knows firsthand what such experiences feel like and techniques to make them less traumatic. On our visit with Dr. Melissa Crochet, the most recently acquired staffer, we even laughed. Her hilarious and refreshingly honest candor (vending-machine snacks are as good for you as sacks of turds, and a certain birth-control shot is awful, unless you're looking to gain 30 pounds) made us feel right at home--speculum notwithstanding. These docs know vaginas inside and out, and we appreciate that (and the warmed stirrups) wholeheartedly.

Few things in life suck more than shelling out 50 or so bucks for the hottest new video game only to find out that it stinks. OK, OK, so probably lots of things suck more than that--cancer, famine, unemployment, etc. Still, getting screwed on a video game has to be in the top 500. Movie Trading Co. has a way to avoid the grief. (In game purchases, anyway. For cancer, we suggest a hospital.) For $5.99, you can rent any one of 600 to 700 titles for five days. If you like it, you can buy the game minus the cost of your rental fee. They also buy used games and pay top dollar for new releases, so a savvy game-buyer can walk out of the joint with enough change left over for pizza to go with a long night of playing. That doesn't suck.

Readers' Pick

GameStop

Various locations

www.gamestop.com

Just like a marriage, especially one with a "can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em" ambivalence, the relationship between public relations professionals and reporters is classically flawed. Even as they appreciate their interdependence, PR people believe every reporter is "out to get them" or their organization. Every reporter believes that PR pros start each day with a solemn oath--swearing to "spin the truth, tell only the half-truths and nothing but some half-truths." Even worse, there is a new crop of young, lazy, degreed PR people who--and we're not kidding--send a news release about an event for their organization without listing the date. Would that more PR practitioners could ooze professional savvy, provide on-time and completely accurate information, offer quick access to key sources and generally make a reporter feel like helping the media is actually a top priority of the PR job. We found one in Dallas who's like that. Victoria Winkelman, public information officer for Southern Methodist University's Meadows School of the Arts. Winkelman often goes out of her way to provide additional research or suggest additional experts on background.

Our dog heartily endorses this store; that should be enough. Canine Commissary does stock supplies for cats and smaller pets, like hamsters or birds, but the real genius is the astounding variety of premium dog food--more than two dozen brands. Food from companies like Karma Organic, California Natural, Eagle Pack and Natural Balance may seem pricey compared with grocery-store brands, but once you start comparing ingredients, the price difference is explained. Canine Commissary even carries frozen raw foods like FarMore and Steve's Real Food for Pets, with quality, recognizable ingredients (FarMore's buffalo formulation, for example, contains only buffalo, zucchini, peas, green beans, apple pulp, powdered eggshell, ground bison bone, salmon oil, spinach, barley and natural vitamin E). So, whenever you think about pouring those cheap, multicolored pellets into your best friend's bowl, you don't have to wonder whether he'd rather be eating ground corn or real meat--just head to Canine Commissary.

Good design is the cultural imperative of the day. It rules prime time on TV shows like Queer Eye and Trading Spaces. It rules middle-American staples like Target and Bed Bath & Beyond. These days, even vacuum cleaners and toilet brushes come with their own unique aesthetic, and the fact that we can use "aesthetic" so casually is proof of all of this (and also, that we're pretentious). But no one knows good design like the folks behind Apple products. Their breathtaking iPod is, so far, the design of the century, much like their iMac was the design of the '90s. Stepping into the Knox Street store is like entering the future of a very, very rich person. Which is awesome. Maybe the 21st century won't have flying cars or personal robots, but we will have Apple. Which means if we have to sit in traffic and make our own stupid dinner, at least our gadgets look cool.

Every woman deserves to have cute shoes. And as far as addictions go, shoe-dependency is one of the few that can improve your appearance. Unfortunately, though, like any good addiction, shoes can be a real drain on the bank account. Which is why DSW is where we go when we need a fix. The smell of leather and the sight of row upon row of discounted designer labels give us such a rush that it's almost overwhelming. And when we try on that first pair of summer sandals or fall boots, we often have to take a deep breath, pause and let the ecstasy wash over us. It's such a good high, we want to shout it to the world, but this has to be our little secret. We can't have all those other shoe junkies hanging around, grabbing up all the good stuff. Some people have no shame.

Readers' Pick

DSW Shoe Warehouse

Once upon a time, we wore teeny-weeny clothes. (Back then, we ate teeny-weeny food and drank teeny-weeny beers.) We loved parading around the latest fashions--the midriff-baring tees, the low-cut V-necks, the tight mini. And there was no better place to find such fashion fabulosity than Krimson and Klover, Kathryn and Kristin Anderson's darling boutique for the pint-sized fashionista. We don't mean clothes for children; we mean clothes for skinny women, those blessed lovelies who scour the size-6-and-under racks ("What? No size 0?") while the rest of us dribble queso on our shirts and shop at Dress Barn. Oh, life is cruel. And yet, we still have a soft spot for K&K, housed in that cool yellow Victorian house on Cole Avenue. Not only because it reminds us of roller rinks and a killer Joan-Jett-by-way-of-Tommy-James-and-the-Shondells song, but also because the clothes are so snappy, so sophisticated yet playful, so blasted cute that we want to at least pretend we can one day fit into their pants again. And if all else fails, there's always the shoes.

The only place cigarettes and flowers really go together is, perhaps, in the lyrics of a country and western song. So how these two establishments came to share a building, we're not sure. One smells of stale tobacco, and the other has what you might call a garden-fresh scent. Unlikely neighbors, maybe, but if you ever find yourself in the market for a bouquet of roses and a carton of Camels, you'll be thanking your lucky stars that Greenville Ave. Tobacco Co. and Flowerama share a space. And for Bank of America customers, there's an added bonus: a drive-thru ATM. In somebody's world, this has to be the perfect combination.

There are places you go when you want one thing. You go to the convenience store for a lottery ticket or cigs. You go to Kroger for their pies. (If you don't, start.) You go to Condom Sense for the cake toppers. But then there are stores you go to just because you want to browse before you buy. Target, for example. And Office Depot. (We love looking at different pen-holding options.) And Jackson's Home & Garden. We love to walk the aisles on Saturdays because it gets us in the home-improvement mood--something that usually translates to marital relations if we get enough weekend projects done by sundown. Besides, you don't know what you want to add to your garden or deck or porch or home until you see it, and that's the beauty of Jackson's. Anything you want, and lots of stuff you have no idea you want, you'll find there.

This place is so great--better than just best--that we feel as though we're violating a sacred oath by telling people about it. We're pretty sure we're not, but we still have mixed emotions about doing so. See, if we tell people, they might buy something we want before we have the chance. On the other hand, if enough people buy things, the store will stay open, so we can keep shopping there. It's a double-edged sword, which, by the way, we think we saw there for sale. Bon Ton is a vintage wonderland, a weathered general store building with books, framed art, baseball pennants, knickknacks, children's clothing and other detritus on the ground floor, watched over by a white-haired man in suspenders and Converse. His wife keeps shop upstairs in the retro-clothing gold mine with everything from old military and marching band uniforms to every piece of women's clothing needed for a Hitchcock film, including dainty sheer stockings, feathered hats and demure dresses. 'Round back in a separate storefront, their daughter keeps the groovy '60s and '70s shop with Nixon campaign buttons, mushroom-print dishes and a Hollie Hobbie tea set. We've never walked out empty-handed; nor should anyone else. It's worth the hour drive south. (It's past Waxahachie.)

Whether you are a serious cyclist or just have a single-speed Schwinn cruiser with a bell like we do, the right gear is imperative. Recently, we went on a bike accessory hunt with our sister, new to the cycling world. The friendly guys at Debo hooked her up with cycling shorts (lovingly referred to by us as "diaper pants"), the perfect helmet, a bottle and pump to keep on the bike frame, a bag for emergency parts, a tire tube and various other things that she was convinced she'd need for a few miles around White Rock Lake. They set her up, made her feel confident about the new venture, and they never lorded over her like know-it-alls. We all agreed that wearing a helmet is a necessity, and the diaper, er, cycling shorts will keep your ass from lighting on fire around mile three, but she still hasn't used that spare tube...although they did instruct her on how if the need arises. Debo also carries the bikes themselves--Cannondale, KHS and Jamis. Recumbents and tandems are available. And if you're just starting out, they can set you up with some sweet training wheels.

Readers' Pick

Richardson Bike Mart

Various locations

Too bad nobody really goes to a florist anymore. It's mostly a phone or online transaction to send an "I'm sorry I'm such an idiot," "Congrats on the new poop dispenser" or "Get well soon because your work is really piling up around here" gift of flowers. They used to say, "Say it with flowers," and we kinda like that idea. Dr. Delphinium speaks about 2,000 languages, though, so we tell them what we're thinking, what we can afford and where to send it, and then we let them do the rest. If you can stop in, you're in for a true European flower market experience, with helpful sales staff and designers who can show you how the very best bouquets are conceived.

Readers' Pick

Dr Delphinium Designs & Events

We are openly, unashamed, serious cat people. We call them our children. We've considered lint roller companies on our investment profile. We support pet rescues and the unabashed pampering of our fur-babies. So why wouldn't we back a shop that feels the same way? Open the door to Cat Connection and immediately there's an unsaid camaraderie between the employees and the customer. No one is going to make fun of you for upgrading from the original Panic Mouse to the Panic Mouse 360 (a fully rotating electronic contraption that flings a tethered fur pouch randomly). And no one will rush you if you stand stymied in front of the collar wall, unsure if paw prints or rhinestones are the way to go. The store is also an excellent place for the budget-conscious pet parent as it stocks feline finery that ranges from 69-cent Mylar Krinkle Balls to custom cat loveseats and TreasureKnit Photo Blankets. Foods, litter, pest control and kitty-themed goodies for humans are also available. Plus, they have a bin of Greenies dog treats if you can't go home without a gift for the canine kids.

Gardening in Texas is literally a tough row to hoe. Brutal summer sun, voracious insects and prolific weeds make producing that perfect tomato a long shot at best. Maybe the wisest thing gardeners here can do is what the rest of the city does in the summer--stay indoors. Texas Hydroponics in Deep Ellum--they have shops in Watauga and Arlington, too--has all the gear you need to keep your garden growing year-round, safe from the great outdoors (and prying eyes). The store offers a full range of efficient hydroponics and aeroponics systems along with lights and eco-friendly organic nutrients. "I can set you up with a $50 system or a $50,000 system," says owner Tom Marek, a plant physiologist. (They also do consulting work.) This isn't like some corner counter in your local head shop--they've helped commercial growers and universities set up soilless systems as well. What you grow is your business; helping you grow it right is theirs.

The continuum here runs from extremely cool to very extremely cool, or, as the store puts it, "Standard, Phantom and Global." Standard is reminiscent of classic-cut, instead of being truly classic. Phantom involves more black. Global is wacko. Ted Baker of London is a major seller, with suits, jackets and trousers that travel from classic to out-there. Some of the store's most fashion-forward offerings would win you favorable nods in London or Rome but might also get you fired from your average Dallas insurance company (two birds with one stone). In the West Village across from Tom Tom Noodle House, Premium 93 is about as cool as it gets.

Khandoo and Umi Nagar opened Lakewood Ace 21 years ago in a smaller space around the corner from their current hardware emporium. Since then the store has become a Mecca for homebuilders, home-fixers, homemakers and home-escapers. Sure, you can find all the shrink-wrapped packages of way-more-stuff-than-you-need here, just as in the big-box stores. But you can also buy one bolt, and you can even find a salesperson who knows where that bolt is and what it's for. And he or she can recommend a better bolt for the job. That's why the Nagars are the best: They know hardware.

Readers' Pick

Elliott's Hardware

4901 Maple Ave.

214-634-9900

Die-cut figures. Decorative borders. Acid-free paper. Stickers and rubber cement. The tools of a scrapbooker are many, and the possibilities are endless. You should see what these people can do with some construction paper and leftover ribbon. Any doubts? Just pay a visit to ReCollections. The store has everything you need to preserve your most precious memories, and the walls are lined with sample pages so you can get ideas and learn new tricks as you shop. But since ReCollections bills itself as "The Scrapbook Experience," it would be remiss if it didn't offer activities other than the usual selling of merchandise. Customers are also treated to classes, lectures and other events with scrapbooking "celebrities." And on Fridays and Saturdays, cropping sessions last till midnight. Call the store for information on specific events.

Any cobbler worth his bootblack can polish wingtips or resole a pair of Winklepickers, but when your shoes need something extra, try John Ngo at Ventura's. He'll make custom insoles and build up (or shave away) outer soles to correct pronation, supination or just plain irritation. We took a large friend with severe ambulation problems here and Ngo crafted a pair of corrective soles for a pair of leather shoes that made all the difference. He'll also repair cowboy boots, purses and belts. English isn't Ngo's first language, so be patient. But he'll make those Dr. Martens last a lifetime.

Actually, we're loath to recommend any Borders location these days; the selection seems to have dropped off precipitously since the good ol' days, when local managers had more control over inventory and seemed determined to stock one of every title no matter how obscure. Still, more often than not, Borders seems to have what we need, and we're particularly enamored of this new location in the West Village, which is two stories tall and has that clean new-bookstore smell. Really, there's nothing better than catching a movie at the Magnolia, a bite at Ferre and then spending the rest of the afternoon or evening cruising the CD bins and magazine racks, which still stock a healthy collection of weird titles. We did notice the staff seemed to be a little clueless during one recent visit--three times a call for register backup went unheeded, despite the growing line of impatient customers--but at least the shelves were stocked and the coffee was hot, which is all you can ask for some days.

Readers' Pick

Barnes & Noble

Various locations

So you've scoured the mall for that perfect gift. Maybe you found it; maybe you didn't. Either way, now you need the finishing touches: a card that says just the right thing and some gift wrap or bag that will make your perfect gift even better. That's where Papyrus comes in. This chain of paper-supply stores has outlets nationwide but only two in Texas, and those two happen to be right here in Big D. The stores carry everything from stationery to customized wedding invitations, but it's those gift goodies that we love so much. The greeting cards are oh-so-cute, and the gift bags are some of the sassiest we've seen. We're especially partial to the Glam Girls and Sassy Chic lines. They're funky and flirty and just waiting to be the icing on someone's perfect gift.

With the handmade poncho and fuzzy scarf making big comebacks for cold-weather fashion, the crafts of knitting and crocheting are tying lots of fingers in knots. At this recently expanded shop, owner Jill Brown and her mother, Sue Tuley, patiently guide newbies through the tangled web of fiber arts. With shelves stocked with fine yarns, from simple cottons to imported cashmeres, plus Skacel crochet hooks and Addi-Turbo knitting needles and a constantly updated supply of new patterns, the store also offers group lessons and one-on-one help in starting and finishing projects. Sue and Jill often join knitters at the work table, where needles and gossip fly. Knitting is a "great equalizer," Sue says. Drop in more than once and they'll greet you by name. A great place to unwind, in more ways than one.

We love cichlids, those hearty freshwater fish from Africa, Central and South America and India with perch-like bodies and colors that could put Las Vegas eye shadow to shame. And people are passionate about these things. Some claim they can train them to do aquarium loops. Others say they can urge them to leap from the aquarium surface, triple Lutz and then dive down to the gravel and spit a few grains into Egyptian hieroglyphics (the Central American ones do Mayan inscriptions, while the Indian ones fashion dazzling Bollywood movie trailers). Ours bungee jump. Sure. All we know is, when we go to the Fish Gallery and gawk and pluck from their rows of crystal-clear cichlid tanks, they tell us to buy only plastic plants (they'll shred the real ones into taco filler, man) and urge us to make sure we put up the few extra dollars to get the dull female with each vibrant male (it'll keep the male's colors trippin' true, you know? Hormones man, they rule). But the best part is that some cichlids are mouth brooders, which means the females swallow the fertilized eggs and then spit out the babies awhile later, labor pains be damned.

Don't be suspicious if your wife won't stop talking about how soft Zelda is, how supple she finds Agnes, or the shapeliness of Bridget. On one hand, she might be secretly Sapphic, but on the other, she might simply be slavishly devoted to the Vintage line of Hobo International handbags. Thankfully, Emeralds to Coconuts carries many examples of the Vintage line (colorful, retro-inspired purses and clutches), along with a sampling of other Hobo lines, including sophisticated leather bags and carryalls. As our "purse closet" can attest, there's no such thing as too many handbags--and don't tell anyone, but we really think Simone is sexy.

No, not the strip club--we mean the importer and wholesaler with the "largest collection of sterling charms, findings, chains, semiprecious stones & jewelry." This shop on the Harry Hines strip is small, but so is its merchandise. We've never seen so many silver charms with so much variety in one place. On the same table with the unicorns and fairies sits a skull with a movable jaw. And on one trip, we even spied a CZ-encrusted pendant of a hand throwing a gang sign. It weighed in at 40 grams. And by "spied" we mean "bought." There's also a large selection of beads and stones for those of you who get some sort of thrill out of being "creative" and making your own jewelry. That's fine, we suppose, but let's see you craft a sterling silver wheel-spoke charm that spins when you flick it. Yeah, that's what we thought.

The architecture of Flash Mart is, to put it mildly, garish. But we like it. The sign on the front of the building juts up toward the heavens and is painted the color of a cartoon sky. A bright yellow lightning bolt adds some extra flair, and the words "Flash Mart" scream for your attention. You can't help but notice this convenience store and gas station on Abrams Road, and on second glance you'll see that the store is flanked by a taqueria and a Church's Chicken. Even better. Inside, it's your typical quick-stop shop, stocked with salty snacks and various carbonated beverages. A little disappointing, really, considering the fabulousness of the outdoor décor.

To fellow members of PJA (Product Junkies Anonymous), do not enter Avocado tree. You will immediately be enticed by the cubbies of freshly cut soaps and the baskets of "aqua seltzers," luxurious bath products in scents ranging from oatmeal cookie to wild lavender to chocolate almond. Your resolve will be weakened by the silky lotions and creams, created in small batches with fresh ingredients and minimal preservatives by co-founders Cory Clark and Jesseca Zollars, who is also an aesthetician. Do not let the smiling faces of the accommodating staff lure you into smelling the soy wax candles, because if you have a functioning nose, you will not be able to leave Avocado tree empty-handed; you will find that you've bought enough deliciously scented products to last through months and months of baths and massages. You'll forgive yourself--probably while soaking in a spicy chai-scented bath--but as long as Avocado tree's around, you know you won't be able to kick the habit.

We'll admit it: We don't really dress the kiddo in clothes from this Lakewood legend--because, well, he's a boy, and even the boys' clothes from Bebe Grand make him look, well, kinda like, uh, he's a girl. Or just, ya know, a little feminine. Hey, nothing wrong with it, especially when the clothes from Babies "R" Us make him look like a dork; better a sense of style than none at all. It's just that Bebe Grand carries fancy stuff from faraway places--like Petit Bateau from France, among others--which look awesome and last forever (oughta at those prices) but could make a linebacker look a little frilly. So why's it the best? Because no matter where else you go you will come back here for the dresses for the little girls or the jumpers for the little boys or the blankets or the baby books or the toys or the mommy accessories and everything else they sell here that turns a room into a nursery in which you'd wanna wake up on Christmas morning. In Paris, even better.

Scavenging on bulk trash days is almost second nature to us. We know that our neighborhood's old couches and bags of leaves are picked up every third week. These items hold no interest. It's the other little things--gnarled ropes of Christmas lights that someone was too frustrated to untangle, a not-quite-past-its-prime doormat--that we relish digging out of other people's junk piles. It's this give-and-take culture that's allowed Freecycle, a project that started in Tucson, to spread to more than 1,500 cities, according to www.freecycle.org. The D-FW group is one of the largest, boasting 5,490 members in its online community. It's a little like a classified ads forum, except that everything posted must be free. And nothing's too crazy--people offer everything from old lightbulbs to pianos and request anything from Girl Scout uniforms to bikes. You may not find exactly what you're looking for, but it's a lot easier and less degrading than trying to drag a discarded dresser four blocks under the pitying eyes of a city of Dallas sanitation crew.

Admit it: You've always wanted one of those giant Easter Island stone heads in your back yard, or a giant Buddha beaming beatifically from the begonias. At Big Mango Trading Co. you'll find a bonanza of backyard bounty that puts run-of-the-mill fountains and concrete fantasia to shame. Among our favorites: petrified wood garden stools and tables, Tibetan flags and cabanas made of teak and grass for lounging poolside. Inside you'll find exotic chairs and couches for use on porches and patios, including chaise longues made from bamboo. Can't afford to vacation in Southeast Asia? Buy the bamboo wind chimes, plant a concrete Lord Krishna beside the koi pond, hire a masseuse who specializes in Nuad Bo'Rarn, and say you went.

We could lament the passing of independent children's bookstore Enchanted Forest, as we did in 2002, but the homogenization of American booksellers is a tired story by now. You're gonna end up going to one of a handful of chains in Dallas, and Borders is the best pick. One thing that's extremely helpful is that they organize books by reading levels--from baby on up--instead of slamming the books on the shelf by author's name (which you hardly ever know, since most children's-book buyers are browsing). There is a good selection of foreign-language picture books; LeapPad books and cartridges (buy the LeapPad itself at Wal-Mart or Target; Borders' is too expensive); sticker books; Usborne titles (high-quality educational books favored by homeschoolers); and generally helpful staff. Also, Borders has a rewards program for kid-book buyers: Buy 10 kid items, get $5 off your next children's purchase.

Readers' Pick

Half Price Books

Various locations

If your hair is curly, what works better than cutting it is "taking the weight out of it," as our man Cruz says at Style Labb. Cruz grabs some sheers when he sees our heft approaching and goes about his work. His work is thinning the hair--keeping the length more or less as is but taking mighty swipes at the thick, gnarled curls that fester about. At one point, Cruz takes the salon equivalent of a steak knife and starts cutting away, from bald spot to bangs. At another, he grabs a fistful of curls near the back of the head, twirls them into one strand, then, like a lumberjack with a saw, slices at an upward angle into the hair. Finally, he takes the scissors, hair between his first and second fingers, and cuts down, not across. It's an interesting and artistic haircut, and when it's done, it's "pimped out," as Cruz likes to say. At Style Labb, it doesn't look like you just got a haircut. It looks like you got a great haircut a week ago.

Not once have we called Premiere looking for some movie, be it brand-new or way-old or foreign or domestic or fiction or documentary, and been told, "Nope, sorry, don't carry it." Now, they may not have it, but that's only because someone else has rented it; wait a couple of days, and it's all yours. Let it be said once and never again: This place has everything. From every place. In the history of ever. Need some BBC series that hasn't even aired in the States yet? Got it. Need a copy of the banned-in-the-U.S. Larry Clark movie Ken Park? Got it. Need some old Betty Page erotica from the 1950s? Got it. Need some HK stuff that will never open anywhere outside of China? Got it. Need, oh, The Big Chill? Got it. Get it? Even better, the owners know more about the movies than we do, which is saying a lot considering we haven't seen daylight since 1989. And if you don't have one of those nifty all-region DVD players that let you watch imported movies months before they've even opened at the Magnolia or Angelika, they'll rent you one at Premiere. They get it, so you can have it.

We love candles. All shapes, colors and sizes. The one factor we're not so good with is scent. Rosemary and vanilla--those are fine, but give us any candle with a strong botanical (read: flowery) scent and our nose goes on a rampage of sneeze. It was purely by accident that we discovered a candle heaven when wandering the aisles of Fiesta looking for a paddleball. Almost an entire aisle held all possible options of votives, perfect for creating an exhibit of Catholic idolatry right in our own home. Tall red, Lotería themed, St. Luke, La Virgen de Guadalupe, short white, rainbow striped, they have them all. Most of them are a dollar or less...and many are scent-free. We turned our dining room into a flickering altar of flaming saints for less than 10 bucks. And the best part is, since they come in glass containers, there's no need for candle dishes and no messy trails of wax. Amen!

After visiting this establishment, the smell of chicken wings and dust will conjure memories of digging through piles of military decorations, some with mysterious Cyrillic letters, making us wonder if we'd just awarded ourselves the Russian equivalent of the Medal of Honor. This shoebox of a shop is crammed with souvenirs of wars from all over the world, including lots of World War II memorabilia. The selection of uniform pieces (helmets, jackets, patches) is extensive and even includes some non-military outfits, such as vintage Boy Scout shirts.

Readers' Pick

GapKids

Various locations

We're not giving this award because Sayre got us some sweet deal on a high-value property. In fact, he didn't even sell our house (we ended up renting it out), and our first two deals on the homes we wanted to buy fell through. We're giving this to him because he's everything you'd want in a real estate agent: fair, considerate, tough when he needs to be, honest and knowledgeable. We were the lowest-priced property in his portfolio (hey, we're in journalism), yet he never let us feel second-rate. He attended to every detail, he was always positive and he never got angry, even when we pulled out of two deals at the last possible minute over details some agents would consider minor. He never pressured us. "You do what you feel is necessary," he said an hour before an option deadline. "It's your house, not mine, and you need to know you're doing the right thing." Because of his decency, the home we finally bought was the right one. What else could you want in your real estate agent?

This is another one of those gimme categories, unless you like paying retail at Tower Records or still think renting at Blockbuster is the way to go, in which case we can't help ya. This place is a nirvana for the videophile who still has a laser-disc player or hasn't yet tossed out the VCR; the racks are loaded with cheap tapes and even cheaper discs, all of which sell for considerably higher among eBay collectors without access to a wonderland like this. And the DVD selection is amazing, from the boxed sets to the Criterion titles to the used stuff that sells for about 25 percent off the list price, or thereabouts. But be warned: It's like Half Price Books, meaning you won't always find what you need but will usually leave with a bag of stuff you merely want, even if you didn't know what you wanted when you walked in.

Readers' Pick

Movie Trading Co.

Various locations

OK, you can't get shoes here for job interviews at law firms. But this is where to go for the best collection of shoes for active stuff, from walking to trekking, cross-training to motocross. You'll find a full array of brands--Vasque, Salomon, Montrail, Tecnica, Merrell, Clarks, Born, Dansko, Ecco, Blundstone and more. Great sales help. And the most important thing: the world's biggest collection of flip-flops. The flip-flops here range from slaps you could wear in the shower to finely crafted leather models you actually might be able to wear to that law firm interview, provided your mom owns the firm.

Readers' Pick

DSW Shoe Warehouse

8335 Westchester Drive

214-696-2305

Architectural salvage always makes trash-picking or dump-diving sound so hip, doesn't it? It's a great way to spend a Saturday, and Dallas has a few very good places to scrounge when you're in the mood for a trash-to-treasure moment. The caveat, though, is that for something essential--claw feet for a cast iron tub come to mind--where weight-bearing and fit must be precise, you might be better off looking for reproductions of antique hardware or fixtures. Bring your measurements and any portable piece of your project to Elliott's Hardware, Dallas' reliable old standby of an independent hardware store. Near the center of the store is a specialty department with bathroom fixtures--including tubs with claw feet, faucet and drain hardware--and several hundred samples of drawer pulls, doorknobs, handles, towel bars and the gamut of stuff from roughly the end of the 19th century through the 1960s. Knowledgeable people staff the area, as if to remind you that Elliott's other major specialty is service. They'll look at samples with you and pull out catalogs until the sun goes down. If they don't have your first choice for style or exactly what you need, they know where to get it for you or where to send you to get it for yourself.

The name says it all. What, besides a great cut and color, do we want from our salon? Gossip. We don't care if it's celebrity slag, local politics or bar tales--we just want saucy spouting while someone works our lifeless mop into a brilliant work of art (that is also easy to manage, of course). Behind the counter, in that classic Diane Von Furstenberg, is Nicole, and she can make or break appointments--so kiss her ass. Todd, the big man on Gossip campus, is devastatingly skilled and a known Dallas hair guru. Bastien, our cut-and-color magician, works our locks into a frenzy while making great conversation (how we love the good ol' three-c stylist). Vivid art for sale, first-rate product and a salon full of amazing stylists...now we just need a drink and we're set. Oh, wait, they usually have those, too. Complimentary, of course.

Readers' Pick

Sweet 200

2550 Elm St.

214-742-2500

Named after a Hindu mantric word, Om Imports is sort of like Sam Moon Lite: fewer crowds, less merchandise, lower prices. This smaller version of the monster shopping complex known as Sam Moon Trading Co. opened this year not far from its more famous predecessor. Om has similar sparkly jewelry and hair doodads, and there's a smattering of purses and other trinkets as well. But comparing Om to Sam Moon may not be quite fair, because Om has something the giant discount metropolis doesn't: friendly faces. A trip to Om's checkout counter is rather pleasant; sometimes they even give you a coupon and a free gift with purchase, which is a far cry from the usual scowl and rush job you get at Sam What's-his-name's. We're not really into meditation, but it feels like Om has some pretty good karma.

With the exception of sex toys, nothing depreciates more than furniture. That's why we've always purchased our major pieces at consignment stores. Our fave is Consignment Solution because of the great rotating inventory--couches, chairs, tables, beds, desks, wall art, the whole magilla--and the friendly help. We've bought a $3,800 leather couch from Legacy Trading Co. for $1,200, a pair of $1,200 chairs for $600 each, and several times we've found the perfect dining set only to see it was already sold. So only go there once we've furnished our dining room. Otherwise you, too, will become our furniture enemies.

We admit it: We're kinda girlie. We like sparkles and shimmers and baubles and fluffy feathery things that go "poof" when you touch them. That's why it is imperative we shop at Talulah Belle only after payday. Otherwise, this amazing ultra-fem boutique in a Lakewood shopping center will send our checking account into pink-sugar shock. It's not that the store is that expensive; it's just that we want to buy so much. Despite its somewhat cramped space, Talulah Belle is brimming with must-have accoutrements, from the sensible (handmade leather purses and stylish pumps) to the eccentric (pompom diva slippers and rhinestone reading glasses). Ah, the practical and the ridiculous--two things we truly appreciate.

We know you expect some lame marijuana joke in this space, and we wouldn't want to disappoint you. Some readers may score their herb on a street corner late at night, but when you're looking for something other than Cannabis sativa, Redenta's is your best dealer. Before Redenta's, we had no idea that there was more than one kind of lavender (they usually have five or six varieties on hand). If lavender's a little too grandma for you, try a "pot" (ha ha) of pineapple mint or pennyroyal. And being an organic garden center, they offer a plethora of tools and supplements to keep your herb of choice healthy and robust without the use of environmentally unfriendly chemicals.

The well-heeled crowd at The Fitting Room, Bea Harper's Highland Park alterations shop, was in a buying mood earlier this month. Harper hosted a reception for Shari Lidji and her Red Llama Studio's collection of custom quilts designed for dogs, cats and even human beings. Lidji took dozens of orders and sold out of every stock item she had brought with her. What makes these quilts special is their combination of wit, workmanship, personalization and good design. Lidji, who sewed her first custom quilt 10 years ago, works with the client to create a design unique to its recipient. She will even incorporate photographs or fabric from a favored article of clothing. In-stock designs start at $55, with custom doggy quilts starting at $85, baby quilts at $225 and adult quilts at $500. "Our quilts are special," Lidji says, "but not so precious that you can't throw them in the wash. Unless we're asked to use certain custom fabrics, they all launder easily."

Hundreds of years ago, maybe thousands, computer stores were staffed by smart people. You had to write your questions down before you went in the store so you wouldn't get snapped at. Now the big-box computer stores are staffed by people who got fired by Wal-Mart for not being smart enough. You hope they won't ask if they can help. Ah, but there is an oasis of know-how: Micro Center in Richardson, in the Keystone Plaza on the southbound service drive of Central Expressway, half a mile south of Spring Valley Road. They build their own line of computers, stock all the peripherals. Great deals. Lots of really capable salespeople. Can't last.

Readers' Pick

Fry's Electronics

Various locations

www.frys.com

CD World, we love you. CD Source, you're all right, too. In fact, we have a special place in our heart for independent music stores the world over. But sometimes the big red letters of the Virgin sign are just too much to resist. Corporate America may be cold and impersonal--some would even say evil--but it also employs a slew of marketing geniuses. The listening stations at Virgin Megastore in Mockingbird Station are just one example. Whether your tastes are for rock, country, dance, jazz or gospel, Virgin has it all. Slip on the headphones, press play and you'll almost forget that you're browsing the aisles of a mega-rich megastore. One drawback, though: We're convinced the headphones are rigged, because more than once we've fallen in love at the listening station only to wake up the next morning with a CD in our changer that seems to have lost its luster. Maybe corporate America is evil.

Readers' Pick

CD World

2706 E. Mockingbird Lane, #110

214-826-1885

In Hollister you will find the faded, tightly fitted ironic/retro/vaguely California T-shirts and washed, tattered jeans that are the rage among the young and hip. Some of the jeans, however, don't come off the racks; they're tied to the pair before them, which are, in turn, tied to the pair before them. So you ask permission to try them on, which brings the sales associates--beautiful, young, hip and eager to help--into the mix. These people want you to become them and suggest ways to achieve this end. Everything's overpriced, but for the sake of hipness, you buy. Or you don't. In Hollister, you either congratulate yourself on your coolness--if nothing else, Hollister's cool--or you look at the means by which you could reach coolness, and you walk out the door. Because acting cool is, duh, acting young. Does a 30-year-old want to dress as 17-year-olds do, even if the shirts are retro and remind the 30-year-old of shirts he wore at 17? Does a 25-year-old woman want to shop next to a 14-year-old boy? And why is it so dark in Hollister? Are there teenagers and college kids making out somewhere?

New York City has The Strand, Portland has Powell's, the Internet has Alibris.com, and Dallas has Half Price Books. It's as simple as that and has been since 1972, when Ken Gjemre and Pat Anderson stocked a converted Laundromat with some 2,000 books from their personal libraries and started the place. Thirty-two years later there are some 80 stores in 13 states, but we're betting none is as essential to its community as the Northwest Highway flagship is to Dallas; without this place, trust us, Dallas would be as culturally barren as Los Angeles. The recent addition of the Penguin collection, consisting of thousands of Brit paperbacks costing around eight bucks a pop, has only made us love this place that much more, if such a thing were possible. One tip, though: Never go here looking for something too specific, because odds are you'll come out disappointed; happens to us every other week, which doesn't stop us from going anyway. Just go to browse, and then scour every nook and cranny and corner, because you'll walk away with something you didn't know you needed but couldn't imagine living without.

Readers' Pick

Half Price Books

A quick self-test for the high-bottom neurotic: Are you afraid you're going to stay fat? Afraid you're a fraud? Afraid you're going to die alone? Afraid your lover man has a hidden pimp stick? Have you tried therapy, self-help groups and mixed drinks but still have this compulsive negative chatter that makes you a real turd in the punchbowl of life? Then it's time for hypnosis. Rex Rasor is a certified hypnotist--though he prefers the term mind training coach. His game is to teach you how to improve yours using such techniques as visualization, relaxation and neuro-linguistic programming that can be practiced at home or even on the golf range. The former stand-up comic and raconteur has been delving into the subconscious realms for years and showing people how they can open up cans of cosmic whup-ass to develop a killer tennis serve, quit smoking, lose weight or simply become a sexy muthafucka. You're guaranteed a good laugh and a change of mind. Or, as George Clinton said, "Free your mind and your ass will follow."

In our perfect world, we'd skip through the streets, pockets overflowing with Slo Pokes, coconut Long Boys, Dubble Bubble and saltwater taffy. In this world, we might also have saddle shoes, cat-eye glasses and a burning desire to run home and watch My Three Sons (that Mike is such a dreamboat). Just one bite of a Skybar or a Cherry Mash can help you revisit your youth--or your mom's or your grandmother's youth--in such a sweet way that there's no reason not to indulge over and over again at Metro Retro's "Shuga Shack," a selection of old-timey candies and glass-bottled sodas. Whether it's Satellite Wafers that blow your mind, or candy cigarettes that help you unwind, you can sugar up and wash it down with Dublin Dr Pepper (made with Imperial pure cane sugar) or Frostie Blue Cream Soda.

We have to wonder if sisters Donna and Erica Barton have spent their entire lives fighting about clothes. At just four years apart in age, there had to have been some unauthorized sharing in childhood. And, for the past three years, they've run Slinky Whistle Bait, a retro, recycled and renewed clothing store just off the courthouse square in Denton, focusing on post-World War II vintage, punk, mod and other specialty items. Now it's "I want to use the leg warmers in my window display" instead of "I want to wear the leg warmers to class picture day."

The corner of Gus Thomasson and Ferguson roads is the nexus of the world for thrifters. The shopping centers on each corner hold three cool secondhand stores: Value World Thrift, Ferguson Thrift and Casa View Thrift. These aren't nicely organized, well-ventilated Goodwills--you need some grit to dig through shelves of old Christmas decorations and worn-out shoes to find that one treasure. And with the enormous variety of items, that treasure just might be a vintage Christian Dior shower wrap, tags still attached; an authentic Army-drab knapsack; or a black leather biker's jacket. Plus, a wee drive back to Garland Road will land you on another thrift store-rich strip--check out Garland Road Thrift and 2 Friends Resale for more used goodies.

Shopping in Mexico is hot. And dusty. In a country where outdoor markets are more the norm than the exception, you must come to terms with the fact that during a Mexican shopping adventure, sweat will spill forth from pores you didn't even know you had. That's one reason we love Casa Mexicana: It's air-conditioned. The store offers some of our favorite Mexican goodies--from colorful pottery to Christmas ornaments to items emblazoned with Frida Kahlo and La Lotería images--all in an enclosed space where cold air flows down from a Freon-fueled heaven. The owners of Casa Mexicana frequently journey to various parts of Mexico and bring back the loot to share with us retail-lovers who can't stand the heat and don't mind the markup. Of course, we prefer to take our own Mexican shopping trips, but generally we're content with shelling out the extra pesos for some cool air and conversation that consists of more than a bungled "Cuanto cuesta?"

Be honest. The guest room closet has turned into a haven for all the things you "are totally gonna sell on eBay." If it's been a month and nothing's been listed, or even photographed, it's time to call on the boys at Cash It In. The auction masters take the crap you don't want but someone else will and do all the work for you. For a 25 percent commission and item fees (we'll let them explain the math, but we will say they have the lowest percentage we can find), that closet can once again store things you really want or need. And if there's something that isn't going to sell, based on the research they do when you bring in your items, they'll even take it to Goodwill for you or lump it into a creative auction combo. For example, a Jeff Gordon poster, Mark Martin hat, die-cast car, KISS figurine and other unmentionables might all go into a "Rockin' Redneck NASCAR party!" auction...not that we would have ever had those items in our possession.

For the past five years, this Bachman Lake establishment has been our top pick as comic-book retailers, and still no one in town comes close to challenging its supremacy. Doubtful anyone will: Zeus has more toys than you can shake a cape at, but Titan is like this astonishing museum where everything's for sale. The walls are adorned with Golden Age and Silver Age titles that sell at reasonable prices, while the floor space is consumed by boxes and boxes of older books we had when we were a kid but sold along the way to buy whatever it is we lost or broke sometime in 1972. We love the new stuff here--Titan carries more avant and outré stuff than any other retailer, including the Charles Schulz pre-Peanuts collection of Li'l Folks strips and the new comics edition of McSweeney's featuring a Chris Ware wraparound cover--but are constantly amazed at the old stuff, including long-lost Superman hardback novels that date to the 1940s. We love this place so much we'd like to marry it, preferably while wearing a Green Lantern tuxedo.

If you're into the "country crafts" style of decorating, move on, there's nothing for you to see here. Looking for something more modern, more colorful, less god-awful cheesy? Well, get rid of the chintz and head to Eurway and spruce up your décor with something sleek, modern and colorful (or not). Better still, the furniture here is both fashionable and comfortable--a rare treat. Tired of your home looking like a set from Hee-Haw? From hanging paper mobiles, wall sculptures and leather recliners to lighting and beds and dining sets, Eurway can help you bring your home into the 21st century. Better still, the prices won't leave you paying the bill until the 22nd century.

Readers' Pick

Z Gallerie

Various locations

It's no wonder Recycled's stock is always a book fetishist's dream come true. Both the University of North Texas and Texas Woman's University are nearby, so students sell their texts and private collections in order to pay bills and get their drink on, and professors trade in their research materials for different materials and to get their drink on. Plus the nearest Half Price Books is 20 minutes away in Lewisville. That means weird finds such as 20-year-old first-edition British punk rock histories and three copies of every Nick Hornby novel. Top that, HP! The collection is sorted across three floors and many rooms (some almost hidden) and spans children's literature to self-help to modern literature. There's an especially well-stocked mystery section, and the store brags about its collection of 16,000 CDs. It's like catching fish in a barrel.

Tuxedo, blazer, golf pants, formal to casual, this is the place for timeless quality clothing that will serve you well from Calcutta to Connecticut. Prices run the gamut: A typical rack of sport coats will go from $350 to $1,500. Keep your eye peeled for their sales: This store puts on some great ones a few times a year. The rest of the time, this is the place to shop if you're willing to put down a few bucks in order to make sure you're right. Helpful, mature salespeople, great tailoring. Nobody ever walks out looking goofy.

Readers' Pick

Banana Republic

Various locations

As a teenager, when we wanted to decorate our room with skulls, skeletons and other death images, our parents thought we were overly morbid and took away our black eyeliner. As an adult, we learned it's OK to decorate with symbols of mortality as long as they're peppy and colorful like those at Casa Mexicana. The modern mourner can find all her Dia de los Muertos (which we celebrate year-round) supplies at Casa Mexicana--sugar skulls, skeleton jewelry, La Catrina-themed items and many other whimsical reminders of death.

Finding a good bra is harder than it seems. It's more than going to Target and buying a $10 cotton contraption. The hunt amounts to far more than flipping through the Victoria's Secret catalog and finding a sexy tit-sling to show off. Generally, the best support, the most comfort and the right look are achieved when someone else is involved. Sounds shady, but we're serious. The experience may seem disconcerting at first, but the outcome is worth it. The women at the Maddox Shop take their task seriously, measuring and assessing a woman's needs before returning seconds later with the perfect bra. The ladies of the Maddox Shop instruct a girl on how to "place herself" correctly in the cups, and they are incapable of being embarrassed by errant nipples or flashing, so even the most modest person is suddenly at ease with a stranger in her dressing room. As for post-mastectomy bras, the shop has an amazing selection, and the saleswomen have the know-how to make a woman look as natural and feel as comfortable as possible after a traumatic loss. They don't gawk or judge, and they can fit difficult sizes as well as perform in-house alterations. It's all about feeling good, feeling attractive. And ladies know a good bra can unleash amazing confidence.

Who needs kids clothing that lasts forever? Want a snazzy toddler shirt you can get on sale for $4 and never worry that it doesn't quite look the same after you wash it? That's why we go for the inexpensive, sufficiently hip kids clothes at Old Navy. They always have sales, and they stock enough of each item to have your kid's size (important when you have a 31-pound 5-year-old). We got the cute camouflage pajamas; the orange Old Navy embroidered sweatshirt; the striped cotton sweater that looks a lot more expensive than it was; the fleece pullover available in a half-dozen or more cool colors. Boxer shorts for a 6-year-old? They have 'em. And unlike some stores that stock kids clothes, there are just as many selections for boys.

Aficionados--aka people who make a living playing guitar--may scoff. Surely, Charley's Guitar Shop on Royal Avenue is the place to buy a guitar in Dallas. Maybe so, but we don't have a grand or two lying about for a custom-made, and booking agents aren't lining up to offer us paying gigs for an off-key, painfully slow version of "Amazing Grace." So we're happy to shop at Guitar Center, the Wal-Mart of music stores, with its collection of about 8 zillion guitars, from $99 entry-level axes to vintage Gibsons and pricey Paul Reed Smiths. Here's why: bought a new Telecaster there (we rock on "Amazing Grace"). Guitar had problems. Took it back, without the receipt. No problem. When the store didn't have the same model to swap, the clerk, a very cool guy named Jacob, offered up a different model that cost $150 more and let us have it in exchange without paying a dime extra. "We want you to come back," he said. In fairy tales, retail and massages, a happy ending keeps you coming back for more.

Readers' Pick

Sports Clips

8300 Gaylord Parkway

972-668-5324

When you and your significant other start arguing about who's more "granola"--as in crunchy, earth-loving, all-is-one non-consumerists--just head to Green Living. There you can bicker over who knows more about ecologically friendly dish soap or who loves hemp bath towels the most. The friendly staff will help solve your disputes over recycled glass decorations vs. soy candles. There's no arguing, though, that Green Living can outfit your home from sustainable flooring to mattresses to reel mowers to organic cotton baby clothes to coffee and back again. But if the choice comes down to your preference for sandalwood or his longing for patchouli, you're on your own.

If a specific breed is what you want, go to an appropriate rescue group (Dallas has hundreds). But if you're looking to help a sweet friend and find a furry companion that needs love, Operation Kindness is the place. They may get the occasional pure breed, but most often they get abandoned animals that don't have AKC papers, just a lot of affection to give instead. The no-kill shelter aids more than 200 animals per day and adopts out an average of 2,300 per year. Funds are raised at various adoption events throughout the year and through private donations, and the money benefits the organization in medically treating all four-legged friends waiting for their "forever home." OK also has a helpful Web site (www.operationkindness.org), with tips for pet owners, links to pet-related shopping sites and medical info. They're knowledgeable, friendly and responsible. And they make sure every prospective owner is, too.

Readers' Pick

SPCA Dallas

362 S. Industrial Blvd.

214-651-9611

Tradition says that an engagement ring should cost about two months of one's salary. So shouldn't that piece of jewelry and symbol of unfaltering commitment be exactly what a fiancee wants? Scott Patterson at the Lower Greenville Jewelry Workshop either has that perfect ring or he can create it. Clear, gleaming diamonds (and other stones) in settings of various metals shine in the cases of the small shop. And even more designs live in Patterson's head. The jeweler extraordinaire is also sensitive to budget-restricted lovers. Trade in scrap gold to create a more affordable, but incredibly beautiful, treasure. Engagement rings aren't all the shop specializes in. Original designs in pendant form, rings and earrings are also available, and if a watch needs mending, the shop has you covered. Janet Patterson, operations manager, offers a warm smile and sincere interest in her counter service. Between the two Pattersons, no other jewelry shop has made an inexperienced jewelry shopper feel more welcome.

In our perfect world, furniture filling a living room wouldn't be "vintage-inspired" or "1950s replica." Couches, tables and other accessories would all be true midcentury pieces in excellent original condition or refinished/reupholstered in decade-appropriate fashion. Century Modern doesn't mess around with the small stuff. Their seating options (think iconic low settees with conical wooden legs or a Mies van der Rohe couch) are the real deal from the '50s through the '70s and sit in the company of collectible tables (from Eames to the more affordable Lane). The price of some pieces may seem high, but the quality is worth the dough. Re-covered chairs are pristinely upholstered, and the items have obviously been handled with kid gloves. Even the occasional shag rug looks fresh and new, and as we all know, the only thing fresh about the ones we grew up on was the latest spill. As with all vintage buys, the time to purchase is when you see it. These gems don't wait around.

Readers' Pick

Weirs Furniture Village

3219 Knox St.

214-528-0321

5801 Preston Road, Plano

972-403-7878

Few smells are as rich and memorable as those of a dog. The smear of guano on his neck, the fetid ear wax built up over summer, the hot stink of pads that tore through the dog park and hit every land mine before diving into an algal creek, bright as a sinus infection. Love your dog but hate the way he smells? Know you'll be filing for divorce if you're caught sneaking him into the jetted tub? Take your pal to Dunking Doggies, a do-it-yourself dog wash. Owner Tommy Sheridan will hook you up to an all-in-one stall that lets you shampoo, condition and blow dry your dog. The shop has assorted shampoos to choose from. Aprons, scrubbers, combs and brushes are provided--not to mention ear wash. Other services such as grooming and nail trimming are provided for an additional charge. And baby can have a biscuit if he behaves. Once inside the sally port, Tommy's dog Zip--a hefty English bulldog--keeps an eye on things. Average cost of a bath is $15. Not picking hair out of the Therma-Jet portals: priceless.

Howard Garrett, the plain-talking organic-gardening "Dirt Doctor" of North Texas, is going to tell you something about the nature of this sun-blistered, snake-bit, bad-dirt region that you're just not going to believe. You might be a damn hippie liberal communist or a knuckle-dragging throwback right-wing nutcase: You're still not going to get your mind around Garrett's message when he tells you Dallas is the biggest organic-gardening retail market in America.

"There's about 700 retail stores in this area that sell a full line of organic products for gardeners," Garrett says. Of those, he says, "at least 10 percent are 100 percent organic," meaning they sell no non-organic products.

"That's huge, because you cannot go to California or Colorado or Vermont and find a single one that's totally organic, that sells a full line of organic products and promotes its use.

"It surprises people that that's the case."

Yeah, it does. A lot. And, of course, we have to factor Garrett himself into this formula: A tireless promoter of organics, not to mention himself, an author, newspaper columnist, radio and TV personality, Garrett also mentions himself as a big reason the organic thing has happened here on such a large scale. He says his show, The Dirt Doctor, on WBAP-820 AM has been a major factor in spreading the word.

"I went on air in 1989, and I said Neil Sperry doesn't know what he's talking about, and I'm going to teach you a whole new way to live," Garrett says modestly. "I took the message to people."

The reference is to Neil Sperry of KRLD Radio, whose Texas Gardening Show has been a mainstay of KRLD Radio 1080 for decades. Every installment of Sperry's show is the aural equivalent of a major chemical spill, urging people to do everything short of spoon Diazinon on their Wheaties in the morning--exactly the kind of pro-hydrocarbon 'tude most of us would expect to find here in the heart of Bush/Cheney.

Garrett's claims for this region as the buckle on the Organic Bible Belt are a little hard to pin down, because the numbers on organic-gardening retail commerce are not readily available from the government agencies one might think responsible. But he makes a useful challenge: "Go to Google and start looking up organic-gardening retail centers under different cities," he says.

Hmm. After way too much time noodling Google for this data, one must conclude that Garrett has his hands on at least a piece of something very interesting. Even if his thesis can't be proved conclusively, the Google test does provide an intriguing and very counterintuitive window on this region: Dallas is one heck of an organic-gardening market. Dallas does seem to outstrip all of the other cities and regions a not hugely sophisticated researcher was able to think of before getting bored.

So if this comes as counterintuitive news for Dallas, what would be intuitive? How would one assume most Dallasites would approach husbandry of the soil? Well, first, obviously, you hire an illegal immigrant. You give him a shovel, some instructions in Spanglish and a great big old squirt jug of Roundup. You get yourself well inside the picture window where you can watch him with the AC cranked up, a Cowboys game on television and a six-pack of cold ones in a Styrofoam cooler on the coffee table. You get your loved one in there with you on the sofa. And you sit back and enjoy nature.

Garrett doesn't exactly argue with any of that. He says organic gardening works here because it's compatible with the culture instead of requiring a religious conversion. If anything, his explanation for the popularity of organics here is that he himself has promoted it entirely apart from and without reference to its hippie-dippie ex-post-'60s roots.

Garrett says the best examples of the kind of organic approach people go for here are found not in your typical East Dallas herb garden but at the big corporate campuses in Plano, Southlake and environs of Fort Worth. Garrett, who is also a landscape contractor, manages several corporate headquarters in this area on totally organic regimens--no chemicals, not no-how, not never.

"Frito-Lay has been 100 percent organic under my program for 15 years. That's a big deal. It's a national headquarters of 300 acres. They know in relative terms that economically it's working for them and that if they went back to chemicals, it would cost them at least as much and probably more."

Based on that and other examples, Garrett preaches through his various media forums that organic gardening costs less or the same as chemical gardening and gets you a better garden. And there's no reason why you can't hire the illegal and get up on the sofa with the cold ones and the loved one, etc. Just, instead of Roundup, you give the guy outside a big old bottle of vinegar and tell him in Spanglish to pour it "on el weedos."

Who knew? We're a lot cooler here than people think.