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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.
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.
2706 E. Mockingbird Lane, #110
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.
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.