Dolly Python
Still mourning the demise of Ahab Bowen? Rejoice, for Michael Longcrier is risen and has taken his baubles, bangles and bow ties to Dolly Python, which is owned by his protégé Gretchen Bell. This is value-added for a longtime favorite among vintage shoppers and now there's another treasure to hunt for in racks full of fabulousness — look for tags with "AB." Dolly Python is a vortex of vintage, full-immersion shopping. The clothing racks pull you in — perhaps a circa 1970s hostess skirt, a vintage Elvis Costello T-shirt or a pair of gem-encrusted white plastic sandals. Then, an irresistible magnetic pull draws you through the cluttered aisles. Pause to flip through the vinyl at Big Bucks Burnett's booth, fondle a ceramic cowboy, consider some bad art, peer at photos of someone's dour long-forgotten ancestors. Bet you can't leave empty-handed.
PGA Tour Superstore
Screw foreplay, these places are downright orgasmic. If, that is, you get aroused milling around a former old Plano Home Depot warehouse filled with sports memorabilia, a gazillion Izods, two bajillion clubs, a tennis court, a putting green, a chipping area complete with sand trap and countless driving range stalls equipped with computer analysis, simulated courses and a daily $50 closest-to-the-pin contest. Go in for a casual Sunday afternoon look-see and by the time you leave it'll be Tuesday. You'll get the usual golf gabfest about two-downs, three-putts, snowmen and worn-out impressions of Carl Spackler. But if you need anything to improve your game or at least a gadget to distract you from how seriously you suck, this is the place. Out front of the Accent Drive location is a Hummer golf cart selling for a cool $12,435. Like the sign says, "This is big."

Best Place to Find a Gift For the Ungiftable

We Are 1976

We Are 1976
We all have an a-hole in our life — that one dickbag who doesn't have any discernible needs. And it's not necessarily that they have it all, it's just that they have nothing for me to give them. For them, there is We Are 1976. It's a random store where everything is super well-designed, cute, artsy, awesome, bone-able, etc. They have porcelain feathers, abacus necklaces, gigantic papier-mâché cat heads, designer toys, bamboo place settings and on and on. Truly something for everyone. Even jerk-offs.
Tom Battles Custom Framing
Though already known for all the gig-poster framing he's done for the All Good Cafe, Tom Battles still fights the good fight to keep his mom-and-pop a contender against big chains that are way expensive and may handle old photos and hard-to-frame items with less care. Part of Battles' battle plan was this year's relocation from the Design District to Oak Cliff's Tyler-Davis District. It was a resurrection of sorts as now his shop is nestled in with galleries, studios, gift shops and more, and the walk-up/street traffic factor makes the frame shop a more convenient destination. One of Battles' biggest talents is his ability to turn anything into an art piece. Clothes, keepsakes, fragile papers, and, of course, art are all fair game, and with Battles' keen eye, he can offer matte and wood suggestions that are far from boring. For a well-executed frame job you simply shouldn't go anywhere else.
The Junius Heights storefront Little Bean is already stocked with plenty of too-cute wares from various lines of clothing to toys, but designer/owner Christine Visneau also keeps her sewing machine at the ready for special requests and sudden inspiration. Visneau's styles, also dubbed Little Bean, are fashion with function paying respect to both the wearers and the washers of the pieces. Pieces are kid-chic but come in comfy textiles and tastefully bright patterns. Onesies to dresses are all made with diaper-changing in mind but feature adorable details like handmade accents (rosettes, for example) or spaghetti straps with bows. We think some of Visneau's success originates in having her own brood — moms just know what works — but also in her incredibly youthful spirit, evident even before she greets you. Little Bean, as a line and as a shop that carries multiple designers and products, reflects that energy and happiness. To show that Visneau's thought of everything, Little Bean features eye-level unbreakable merch for shorties to browse and a coloring table for when boredom sets in. When baby's busy, shopping is bliss.
Hookah District
Toward the top of the line, the $289.99 Egyptian copper and brass single-hose hookah with handmade clay bowl and ice cup. At the bottom, a $40 model that is nevertheless nice and totally without plastic parts. Hookah District, which has a sister store at 11532 Harry Hines Blvd., sells to the discriminating nargilist, offering a line of top hookah tobaccos including Starbuzz, Sex on the Beach and Fuzzy Lemonade. These gooey concoctions don't burn, you know: They vaporize beneath specially fabricated hookah charcoal sticks, which you can also get here. In fact, you could drop some serious dough in this joint. Or not.
When you have uninvited creepy crawlies, the best advice on getting rid of them comes from people in your own 'hood. After all, they know the same critters. East Dallas couple Douglas and Chrissy Fairweather developed all-natural Papa Richter's Roach Ridder and eventually manufactured it in sticky-backed bottle caps to mount in strategic spots. The boric acid-based formula is green and safe for use around inquisitive toddlers and the like. Without reliving any nightmares, we'll just say that it works quickly even during the humid spring and demanding summer. Oh, you could make a similar pest-prohibitive paste yourself, but you won't, so buy theirs. Available at the Green Spot, Walton's and other locations, as well as online.
After checking out photo booth after photo booth, we found that Premiere truly lived up to its name. The Frisco-based company provides Dallas-area events with a booth to entertain guests and spit out personalized photo strips that hearken back to those of the old days ... if the old days came with custom logos, a box of crazy props and a kick-ass, accommodating attendant. While your hired photographers are snapping your friends' "cheese," the booth documents the real hams, and you get all the copies. With their competitively priced, freebie-packed packages, Premiere's photo strips are fun and inexpensive party favors that won't get regifted, lost or tossed on the drive home. They're keepsakes from a wedding, bar mitzvah or corporate event that you'll actually want to keep.
Whole Foods
Walking in the 64,000-square-foot Whole Foods for the first time can be intimidating. Why is there a large cosmetics section? Did I accidentally go to Dillard's? But once you make your way through the expansive produce and meat sections, you realize this is foodstuff heaven. Allergic to gluten? You'll find a large selection of gluten-free foods here. Like to get buzzed while perusing baked goods? There's a wine bar with a well-priced and versatile selection of wines by the glass. Oh, and did we mention the frozen yogurt bar, expansive chef's case and covered parking? That last part sure makes this Whole Foods our favorite shopping haven in the summer heat.
Urban Acres
Whenever anyone starts talking to us about organic this, sustainable that and how buying local food can reduce our carbon footprint, we tend to zone out and assume that the conversation doesn't apply to us. Because we eat meat. A lot. Especially when we cook. A meal just isn't a meal unless we're eating something that once had a face, as far as we're concerned. So we assumed that a store that serves as the hub for a co-op style produce market had nothing to offer us other than some of the green stuff that goes on the plate as sort of an afterthought next to the T-bone steak, drumstick, pork chop or fillet of fish. And yet, the first time we walked into Urban Acres, fully expecting to find a bunch of bean patties and tofu and other bullshit meat substitutes, we instead saw a cooler full of flesh. Grass-fed, hormone-free beef. Free-range, stimulant-free chicken. Milk from cattle that weren't pumped full of antibiotics. Eating like a caveman never felt so natural.

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