Best Joyride 2003 | Revolution Bike Taxi | Best of Dallas® 2020 | Best Restaurants, Bars, Clubs, Music and Stores in Dallas | Dallas Observer
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Say you and your pals have decided to go out for a night on the town. Say you've decided to drink responsibly and have opted to utilize one of the city's cab services. Then say that particular cab company proceeds to stand you up--twice. What do you do? Well, first you delete the company's number from your cell's phone book, then you check out Revolution Bike Taxi, a free-of-charge service offered in areas such as Deep Ellum, the West End and Lower Greenville. You'll get a free ride (tipping, of course, is encouraged) to the next watering hole, and you'll see parts of the city you never knew existed. Consisting, basically, of a bicycle with a cart attached to the back, Revolution taxis take the roads less traveled, the back alleys and the routes you couldn't find again if you tried. They're quick, economical and environmentally friendly, and their hospitable drivers help put the "joy" in joyride. (We love you, Bryan K.! And thanks for not splashing us in that puddle...)

Best Place to Dress Up a Nursery

Be-Dazzled

We'll admit we went overboard when furnishing our kid's nursery, especially considering he won't be using it for, oh, the next six months to a year and won't even be able to see it clearly for the next little while. But, let's admit it, we deck out babies' rooms not for the post-fetal, but for the parents, who like to spend time in the prettiest, coziest room in the house. So, yeah, we could have gone to Babies "R" Us and got us one of them functional cribs and economical changing tables, but nothing was too good for our boy--and for his parents, who were tired of looking at that spare room and figured what the hell. We drove to Plano, damn near to Frisco, because we heard Be-Dazzled has a lovely assortment of furniture (we wanted a Bratt décor crib, and this is among the few stores in the area to carry them) and a great selection of fabrics from which we could design everything from blankets to bumpers to rocking chairs; our handiwork's now on display in the Louvre, by which we mean our house.

Founder Harry Coley isn't about to give up the secret ingredients passed down by his mother. Suffice it to say he's been whipping up his rich, creamy and mouth-watering custards since 1996, using more egg yolks than any recipe you've ever heard of. On the rotating menu are 48 flavors with eight specialties of the day, from the standard vanilla and chocolate to peanut butter, peppermint, green tea and Kahlua. Don't be surprised if you have to stand in a line that stretches outside the door; the wait's worth it.

Buying bras can be a tricky task, since off-the-rack doesn't work for every, um, rack. But Nordstrom simplifies the process with in-store alterations and an extremely helpful and (heh) supportive staff. It can be pricey (three bras will run you about $200), but it's worth every cent.

Gentlemen, when our old lady was pregnant with the Little Genius, as we've taken to calling our firstborn son, we discovered that nothing soothed flared hormones and other things starting with "h" better than an unexpected purchase from a happening maternity store. None of that Liz Lange "fashion" they're selling at Target, none of that bargain-rack nonsense from Motherhood in the mall, but swanky silks from the likes of Pickles & Ice Cream, where the tops are tops in good-lookin' and the bottoms don't make Mama's bottom look twice the size. Pea in the Pod has a few things Pickles doesn't--including the awesome Nicole Miller over-the-shoulder diaper bag Dad bought after watching Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, and don't ask--but Pickles seems to have a cooler shade of clothing, including a better selection of Japanese Weekend apparel than the JW Plano store, which is in one of the 32 malls along the Dallas North Tollway.

This West Village shop is hip for all the right reasons: It combines simple, classic styles with fun images and quality construction. If only other trendy boutiques could do this. We're partial to the T-shirts, everything from the cabin boy line to the ones featuring our favorite monkey, Julius. Because if you can't buy a T-shirt with a grinning monkey, why are you even shopping? It's essential to any good wardrobe.

At what point did the scourge of childhood--being forced to wear clothing already used by someone else, usually a sibling--become so cool that people will pay $30 for a thrift store-quality, ironic T-shirt? No, really, we need a date. We'll go back in time and open a chain of stores like Counter Culture. The stylists--"cashiers" or "clerks" doesn't do them justice--pick only the best to put on hangers and affix with pretty little price tags. It's like the best of Goodwill, color-coded for your convenience.

You won't find price tags on the Nikons and Minoltas at this mom-and-pop shop. All the prices are in the head of its colorful owner, Ramsey Jabbour, who knows precisely what each item is worth. Just ask him. Some might call it haggling, but he calls it offering the most competitive prices around. His no-nonsense business style makes comparisons to Seinfeld's soup Nazi seem appropriate, but Jabbour knows his business like few others. His full range of camera equipment and supplies, both traditional and digital, makes his store the most important photographic resource in this area for the professional as well as the hobbyist, for large corporations as well as individuals. His no-frills store, located in an industrial area and piled high with boxes, makes little investment in marketing gimmicks. And why should it? And why do you question him about it?

You spend a lot of money on a suit, wear it a few times, have it dry-cleaned and suddenly it just doesn't look, or even fit, like new. It's all in the pressing. Sam Cox knows a lot about pressing; his establishment has been doing it superbly since 1961. "First, we use no air-operated equipment that smashes clothes and actually creates wrinkles and shows seam impressions. Unlike most, our presses have cloth heads on both sides to prevent shine." According to Cox, it's all in the details. "If you set the collar properly, the lapels will fall properly, and there will never be a wrinkle between the shoulders in the back. And we never press with the pocket flap down, which can make an indentation that ruins the look of the whole jacket. We take the time to press the flap separately." You pay for what you get: Cleaning and pressing run $13.60 for a suit, $9.25 for a jacket and $6.60 for a pair of pants. Pressing alone costs 25 percent less. Cox's clients, including Neiman Marcus and the clientele of several of Dallas' leading custom tailors, agree that it's worth it.

When we visited Junkadoodle for the first time, it was not on purpose. We were searching for another address and in the process saw what we are now lauding for Best Junk. We have to admit that it was the name that sucked us in--and the fact that the sign out front was designed with bubbly purple letters. In case you were wondering, we are also the kind of people who buy books based simply on their covers. Shallow, maybe, but sometimes you pick a winner--as was the case with Junkadoodle. This shop is filled with all sorts of goodies, from antique furniture to artwork to a bowl filled with buttons. And despite the name, "junk" is not really apropos of the store's contents. Maybe it's that whole "another man's trash" thing, or maybe we're just incredibly cheap, but we think Junkadoodle is more treasure than anything else.

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