Wolf Camera has a wide selection of picture frames for your favorite photographs--or if not your favorite, at least those you're willing to display. Compared with other stores, prices are lower, selection is more varied, and you are more likely to find unique frame designs to match every picture. Prices start at $9.99. Brand-name frames include Burns of Boston, Carr, and Malden.
The glitzy black-and-white décor is a grand setting for the two walls piled high with an overwhelming array of perfumes. Don't go looking for something as mundane as White Shoulders; this is the place to pick up Jean-Paul Gaultier's new perfume encased in a snow globe with, of course, gold snow. Vivian Westwood's Boudoir might be the ticket if the Versace Blonde thing doesn't work for you.
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
Hallmark Cards probably thinks it has secured coolness with Fresh Ink, its new line of bizarre and unconventional cards similar to the ones independent gift and bookstores have sold for years. In this realm, however, if you care to send the very best, Hallmark Gold Crown Stores are not your destinations. Independent cardmakers are still making the most stylish and funky cards around, and Gifted in Deep Ellum offers a great selection from several designers. From cards with "Thank You" spelled in neon letters to minimalist ones with thick, grainy paper and black-and-white photos, Gifted carries everything from the simply sublime to the wonderfully wacky.
No matter what the occasion, you can find a card depicting a young, bare, muscled torso at Nuvo. We don't mean to say that all their of cards are for gay men (or, for that matter, straight women with an aggressive appreciation of the male form). Some of them are all pecs and butts, but there are plenty for the straight shopper, including several lines of one-of-a-kind hand-printed art cards that tell someone that you not only care, but that you're the kind of person who'll spend $7 on a card.
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.
For years (and years and years), comic-book lovers were pretty much S.O.L. when it came to the convention scene. They were almost always second-rate affairs that brought in third-rate talent. But then last year,
Wizard magazine finally decided to bring its mammoth affair down south. There were so many booths packed into the Arlington Convention Center--bursting with toys and videos and original art and T-shirts and so many other things we could scarcely afford but bought anyway--that we got lost. Twice. Even though we had a map. And everywhere we looked, there was a writer or artist from Marvel or DC. Jim Lee, the artist who revived a flagging Batman franchise. Joe Quesada, who, as editor in chief at Marvel, revived a flagging company. Filmmaker and comics scribe Kevin Smith, whose appearance in town prompted at least 30 chubby gentlemen to dress themselves as Silent Bob, the character Smith has played in most of his films. It. Was. Awesome. Best part is, it looks like it's becoming an annual event: The second installment of Wizard World Texas is coming in November.
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."
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."
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.
By now it should be clear to us that we really don't need to go anywhere but Mark & Larry's Stuff for Christmas gifts. We trudge through stores and stores of despicable generic crap, leave with empty hands and a full list of gifts to buy. It is then we remember the little shop on Elm Street (with a sister shop now on Main Street) that has something for each person on our list. Bath stuff, coffee table books, '50s-style toys for Sis, old-world décor (think gilded frames and the like) for Mom, journals for the pensive preteen and for Dad, barware, of course. For everyone else on the "card list," the store carries great individual greeting cards and boxed sets by RockScissorPaper and other neo-midcentury (yeah, we made that up) printers. For almost 10 years, partners Mark Brian Sonna and Larry E. Groseclose have provided the best in "stuff," and at great prices. And for the "I'm already supposed to be there!" situations, they even have the wrapping covered.
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.
If a PVP Skull plush doll scrummed with a Living Dead Ragdoll, who would win? Who cares when you can pit a Barbie Princess of Ancient Mexico against a Dark Crystal Skeksil Chamberlain Bust to see who comes out on top of the anatomical correctness swimsuit competition? Virtually every fantasy has an action figure, bust or statue ready to stunt-double when push comes to mustard. And Zeus Toys and Comics has the figures with the pliable limbs and stiff expressions ready to make reality of that dream, including
Matrix and
Terminator busts, statues of DC and Marvel comic characters, James Bond and Dr. No power yoga dolls (force them into Toby Maguire struts and you'll see what we mean). Plus they have a life-size Darth Maul from
Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace guarding the front door. Wasn't that one of Ed Wood's last movies?
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.
Our experience with other stores that sell used CDs has been drought or flood, depending on who's been in lately to sell or trade. CD World's selection may not be of ark-requirement proportions every visit, but we've yet to leave empty-handed. The racks are divided by category and are in alphabetical order by artist with new, used and import CDs all together for quick comparison shopping. The local section is likewise well-stocked with both new and used (and we don't mean 10 copies of Deep Blue Something's Home and David Garza's entire back catalog).
Actually, this oughta be called "Best Kids Clothing Store That Sells Clothes Adults Would Wear If They Made These Clothes In Our Size." Or something. We'd never been in this place, in its Stonebriar location, till a few weeks ago, but what we saw delighted and amazed us--clothes for a 1-year-old boy that didn't have trucks or teddy bears or footballs or Rangers logos on them, anywhere. No, what lined the racks was this wondrous selection of canvas utility pants and button-down twill shirts and cable-knit sweaters--and nothing more than $26, with most of the stuff even on sale. What really amazed us, and warmed our Gen-X hearts that still beat to a new-wave soundtrack, were the retro ringer tees with robots and rocket ships emblazoned upon the chests and the long-sleeve cotton shirts displaying merit badges like something sold in the back of an old copy of
Boys' Life. The clothes go from 0 to 4, for boys and girls, and if there's not a location near you, try the Web site (
www.janieandjack.com). How's this for an ad slogan? Clothes worth having a kid for. Really, they can have it. Least we could do.
Readers' Pick
GapKids
Various locations
Good Records is exactly what you'd expect from a store run by a bunch of local musicians: the latest indie label offerings, early-release copies of local records and the entire catalogs of seminal artists. From imports of alternate versions of Radiohead's latest to the aural history of Bedhead, they're all carded on the yellow shelves lined with colored lightbulbs. And if it's not on hand, the staff happily obliges special orders. But don't expect to find CDs here you could pick up at Target for $12, such as the back catalog of Metallica, which, allegedly, a fan hoping to snag a CD to be autographed by a band member dining in nearby Deep Ellum found out the hard way. "Good records" to him was just a matter of opinion.
Someday, when those Lotto numbers finally hit, we'll do more than buy a throw pillow or just ogle the shimmering fabrics in this NorthPark shop. Maybe by then we'll have developed enough good taste to do justice to Silk Trading Co.'s vast collection of materials--they offer a selection of 2,400, from embroidered silks to cotton and linen, as well as paint and other goodies to fix up your mansion. More than simply a drapery store, they also do custom bedding and furniture; you pick the cloth, they cut and stitch it or use it to upholster couches and chairs sold at the shop. (Prices vary depending on the fabric. The cost of one style couch, for example, can range between $1,600 and $5,000.) Just the thing to dress up the trailer when that lottery ship comes sailing in, which we don't doubt will be any day now.
A Dallas institution, Dallas Costume Shoppe is the place to go if you're in need of an outfit for that gala costume ball or a Halloween bash. Producing a stage play? They can outfit the entire cast. Period costumes from as far back as Shakespeare and Greek mythology days, Roaring Twenties--you name it. If they don't have the costume you're looking for, you might reconsider your search, or take up sewing.Texas Costume (pictured below) is a theatrical supply company with clients across the country. They rent costumes to the general public as well as professionals and TV types. They sell and rent technical supplies, wigs, and make-up, but costumes can be rented only. Time periods of the costumes vary from biblical to the '70s. Costumes range from $59.95 to $79.95 for three days. And on Halloween, they'll hook you up. They have thousands of items, so if you want to be it, then damn it, they have it.
As the organic health-food business becomes increasingly corporate (see Whole Foods' shareholders), the real thing is alive and well in the heart of Oak Cliff. For 24 years, Ann Munchrath has dispensed vitamins to undernourished Cliff dwellers. In 1998 she, along with son Matt and other family members, took a leap of faith and opened an organic grocery store that is the only thing of its kind south of the Trinity. The custom-built store is stocked with a healthy selection of rice cakes, whole grains, a mind-boggling selection of soy and rice milks, frozen dinners and just about every other organic food a health nut could want. Fruits and vegetables, bought from the Farmer's Market, are restocked daily. The meat section, though small, includes such rarities as Texas-raised lamb and bison. There is also a café that serves up smoothies, fresh juice, frozen yogurts and a chicken sandwich that will keep you coming back for more.
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?
Back when the Trading Co. first opened its doors some two years ago, it was possible to peruse its racks and stumble across the rare and valuable oddity--say, the Criterion Collection
This is Spinal Tap or
The Usual Suspects, which was then out of print. It's a little harder to find such gems now that everyone, including your mom, has a DVD player; there's always someone digging through the bins, looking for a collectible to keep or sell on eBay. These days, we value the Movie Trading Co. for these reasons: For a few bucks, you can rent
any disc in the store (just-released or very old) for five whole days (take that, Blockbuster); and the videotape bins are overflowing with odds and sods we never knew existed (a few months ago, we picked up hours' worth of Captain America and Captain Marvel serials dating back to the 1940s, and not long before that, we found a highlight reel of the New York Giants-Cleveland Indians 1954 World Series, and our pops was plenty pleased). It's kinda like Half Price Books: You walk in looking for one thing, and you walk out with five things you didn't know you needed.
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
Yeah, yeah, yeah. We know. The Stoneleigh P has a better jukebox; says so in our 1997 "Best of" ish. So does the Metro Diner just down the street from the Elbow, at least if you like Muddy Waters with your coffee and smokes at 3 a.m. So do half a dozen other joints around town. It all depends on what you like, what you feel like hollering over, what you feel like grooving to before you land that pickup line with the precision of a spastic gymnast. Whim dictates we give this to the Elbow, just because it's the last bar we visited with a jukebox worth the ones and fivers we kept feeding it like a hungry beast with a bottomless appetite. There's just something about being able to listen to Chet Baker, Elvis Costello, Bob Dylan, Miles Davis, Sammy Davis Jr., Johnny Cash, John Coltrane, Howlin' Wolf and Ronnie Dawson over a couple of Maker's on the rocks that makes some nights (or afternoons) more special than others. It's hard not to feel a little cocky with the Clash pouring out of the speakers; it's hard not to cry into your beer when George Jones leans over your shoulder and moans his sad somethin's.
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.
We took French in high school and regret it. Because while finding someone who speaks English at our favorite tamale shop is a hit-or-miss proposition, finding someone who speaks French is damn near impossible. No matter. We can usually hold up our fingers or clop our hooves to indicate how many beef, chicken and pork tamales we want. These are made fresh daily. Other fillings become available as they strike the proprietor's fancy. All are made by hand and steamed in corn husks to perfection.
For 19 years at this location, David and Pat Harris have made us happy to be a carnivore. We pay about $10 per pound for rib eye, about the same as we'd pay at our local grocery store, but the rib eye from David's delivers a flavor beyond compare. That's because he sells choice, corn-fed, aged Iowa beef (the stuff at the grocery was likely fed alfalfa grass). David also makes 17 kinds of sausage at his shop. Smoked Polish sausage, hot and sweet Italian sausage, bratwurst, Cajun andouille, East Texas hotlink and Mexican chorizo. As David himself has told us, this makes him a dying breed, "like the Texas horny toad." We'll take David's word on it.
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
Seeing as how Dallas is landlocked, it makes sense that the owner of TJ's is from Virginia Beach. Caren Alexis and her husband, Peter, bought the joint two years ago (it has been in operation since 1989). TJ's offers a regular daily menu of 17 varieties of fresh, raw fish, including sushi-grade tuna and swordfish. If there's something else with gills or shell you want, chances are Caren can order it for you. Shipments of live Maine lobsters arrive three times per week, with Caren discounting what she has in the tank on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Her quality control and customer service make Caren a fishmonger not to be trifled with. As she says, "I look at everything that comes through the door."
Other than during the "Tour Olive," when they give 'em away, this well-established market asks $6.99 a pound for any of its 24 or so varieties, mixed as you like. A few favorites: Alphono marinated in wine; Catalan with fennel and lime; pitted Nicoise, and pitted Greek kalamatas.
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.
Why do we drive two hours round-trip to Prosper, Texas, to buy a couple of dozen eggs every month? Because we have too much time on our hands, frankly. But also because we like our eggs fresh. Know the following: Mahard is family-owned and the 10th-largest egg producer in the country, with something like 3 million white leghorn hens busily cranking out the stuff for our omelettes and soufflés. We do not have to deal with the unpleasant smell of 3 million white leghorn hens when we visit the tiny outlet in Prosper. The hens proper are located elsewhere. We can buy Mahard eggs in the grocery store down the street, but those eggs might be three weeks old. As of press time, we could get a dozen extra large at the outlet in Prosper for 70 cents. And those eggs would have been inside a hen fewer than 24 hours prior.
If you get off on garage sales, you'll love this place. It's large, dusty, and hot, but treasures can be found at almost give-away prices. Just plan on digging and browsing. From household appliances and furniture to costume and antique jewelry to a stuffed animal barrel where a quarter buys your choice, a visit to Sarah's is a little like a scavenger hunt for grownups. If you don't find what you're looking for, don't give up. It just might be there the next time you visit.
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.
For those of you who don't know how to cook, we understand why getting invited to a potluck dinner couldn't be more of a pain. Oftentimes, dessert seems like the best course to bring: After all, you can only bring chips and dip so many times, and there's no way Ramen noodles are going to make the cut as an entrée. But bringing dessert is no picnic, either. Baking is hard and hot, which leaves buying a dessert as your only option. And then what? You go to Albertson's or Tom Thumb where you are limited to bag candy, gooey day-old cookies or some Bert and Ernie cake that tastes as synthetic as it looks. Here's your solution: Call Dallas Affaires Cake Co. and order up one of their cakes. They're great. Actually, they're beyond great. They are sinful. Our favorites include the orange cake, the white chocolate cake and the standard white cake with Italian icing. But there are plenty of options to choose from. Of course, Dallas Affaires is also the best option for birthdays, anniversaries, retirements and other standard affairs.
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.
Jack Moore doesn't care whether you call him "chef" or "cook," so long as you use the word "tasty" when describing the pies he's been cooking for 35 years. He does them all--chocolate, apple, pecan, coconut and a variety of cobblers--but his specialty is his sweet potato pie. "Been cooking 'em for a long time," he says, "and have never had a complaint." And what's to complain about? They're sweet, smooth and made from scratch. You can order a piece from the menu. Or, better yet, fork over $12 and take a whole pie home with you. And, yes, the Old Mill Inn is open daily.
Mom had a very basic style of cooking: grab a big jug of Wesson oil; pour a half-dozen glugs into a skillet; add food; apply heat. This is why we tend to avoid restaurants that advertise dishes "just like Mom used to make." If only the old girl had Oil & Vinegar, our arteries and appetite for home cooking might be in better shape today. This shop offers oil as a work of art, selling infused vinegars and imported olive oils and other types of oil served from large glass carboys displayed like sculptures along a glowing backlit wall. Goodies such as white truffle olive oil and orange lemon basil vinegar are among the offerings, along with eye-catching jars of olives, garlic, mouth-watering spreads, herbs and fancy dishes to serve them in.
A friend dragged us to the new Virgin Megastore, which opened in September. In the parking lot, we boldly declared to everyone within earshot that we'd never buy a CD in that unholy place. No, sir. We were far too cool to shop for our Sleater-Kinney in a theme park. Down with The Man. And so on. Then we stepped through the glass doors and beheld the promised land. The Virgin store consists of 25,000 square feet of aisle upon aisle overflowing with reasonably priced digital milk and honey. CDs and DVDs and video games as far as the eye can see (not really, but we're on a roll). On a busy weekend, perhaps 20 Virgin helpers are at your disposal. Yes, they wear too-baggy pants. But they will find what you're looking for and do it with good cheer. And you can try it before you buy it. There are so many listening stations at Virgin that when asked, employees underestimated the number by half. While an exact figure was difficult to determine even after a phone call to a manager, we can safely say there are more than 100 listening stations, some of them called Megaplay Stations, which allow you to grab most any CD or DVD off the shelf, scan its bar code and listen to or view it. Does our purple prose make us uncool? No matter. We will gladly forfeit our coolness for such hyperstupendous megaselection.
If there is any truth in advertising, it certainly would apply to Darrell's Sensational Pies!, a wholesale pie company that distributes 32 flavors of these single-serving treats through 18 Dallas locations including Two Sisters Catering, Snappy's Catfish and Burger House. From the traditional apple and cherry to the more exotic pumpkin pecan and chunky peanut butter chocolate, these tidy four-and-a-half-inch minis cater to the gluttonous among us who believe that fat can be fun when delivered in small portions. Yet Darrell, a third-generation baker, tips his crust to the health-conscious, damning all use of additives or preservatives. For the small-waisted or the calorie-unconscious, a 9-incher can be ordered on demand through these retail outlets. Call Darrell direct to find the pie nearest you. Or wait six weeks until he opens his own retail store in North Dallas. Then try the blueberry and chocolate chip brownie. They're sensational!
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.
Smaller specialty stores have better and more thorough wine selections, and froufrou grocery stores have more eclectic stocks of microbrews, but two things count in a good liquor store: convenience and sauce. That's why you can't go wrong with this Sigel's location across from Old Town. An empty bottle's throw from Central Expressway, this ample store thankfully arranges its stock according to alcohol's two primary colors--clear and amber--making it easy to find what you're looking for. Should you require, there's plenty of mixers to be had, and for those big, bad, cherry-popping voodoo daddies who like to party like it's 1995, you can stock up on cigars as well. And perhaps best of all, it's only a short stroll from the Lovers Lane DART station, for those out there who need a designated driver during the day.
There's more than one way to juice a lemon. And watching the plethora of culinary programs on KERA and Food Network, you can glimpse them all: the old-fashioned glass citrus juicer, Martha Stewart's wooden reamer, Stephan Pyles' aluminum Mexican lemon juicer. All are available at Sur La Table, as are tons of other gadgets used daily by the celebrity chefs on the tube (and, maybe, monthly in noncommercial kitchens). The large brick store on Travis Street just off Knox houses tiny ginger graters, olive forks, steel cocktail whisks, sheets of bamboo for rolling sushi, butter warmers, pie dough weights, zesters, ice crushers, cookie presses, mandolins, mortars and pestles, dozens of sizes of pastry brushes, sake sets and even wine glass charms so drinkers can find their own glass even if they've already indulged a little. Sur La Table also has a huge selection of cookbooks and a popular culinary arts program, so you can learn to use these little gadgets you'll no longer be able to live without.
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."
Want a stove with enough oomph to melt your pots and pans? One with a door so stout you can stand on it? Industrial-weight kitchen stuff is, er, hot, and great for reheating leftover takeout food. These guys have it in spades--refrigerators that look like they've been yanked out of catering services, dishwashers so quiet you have to put your ear up to them to make sure they're running, vent hoods that will muss your hair and suck up that two-alarm fire in your omelette pan. In short, manly machines.
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
Dinner parties are stressful enough without worrying whether some bozo is going to break one of the Depression glass goblets you inherited from Great-Aunt Nona. Save the worry for the menu and restock your pantry with discontinued and overstocked glassware from Crate & Barrel. The prices are minuscule compared to the chain's regular merchandise (we recently picked up some classic martini glasses for a buck apiece). We're not promising you won't be upset if one ends up broken and ground into the dining room rug, but at least you won't have to explain to Mom about the now incomplete set of family heirlooms. That is, unless the rug was part of your inheritance. In that case, Crate & Barrel carries cheap, yet chic rugs as well.
Hidden among the lox and bagels and knishes and white fish salad and potato pancakes and a dozen other dishes that are done New York-right here is a sandwich that only repeat customers at Gilbert's are menu-savvy enough to order. It's the meatloaf sandwich, and it
must be ordered on rye bread with brown gravy on the side. It's tender, it's juicy, it's flavorful--it's all you could ask from a piece of meat that is not exactly steak. Add fries and try not to feel guilty. You'll be in true cholesterol heaven. The Gilbert family has been serving authentic deli delights since 1987 at its Preston Forest location. Come early next year the three Gs will be headed north to their new Addison digs on Belt Line Road. No problem for us--as long as they bring the meatloaf.
It's possible we should be older in order to admit how much we like the area around Knox-Henderson. Sidewalk-strolling, coffee-sipping, feeding the birdies--kinda sounds like a midlife urban experience. Still, we love Smith & Hawken, and when we don't catalog-shop (another blue-haired pastime?) we head to the cool historic building at Knox and Travis where the best garden decorations, hardware, birdbaths, flower-bed edging, mailboxes, topiary frames and yard art of all types are there for the taking. Residents of Knox-Henderson remember the 1920s building originally housing a flower shop--how quaint! We do think it's cool that, besides all the amazing products, Smith & Hawken maintains a patio for people-watching and brings plants and some merchandise out on the sidewalk on Saturdays.
Almost every inch of the sidewalks around the tiny space inside Marioly's shop is filled with fresh cut flowers available by single stem or in bushlike bouquets. It's like a flower market scene from
My Fair Lady only without Audrey Hepburn singing "Wouldn't It Be Loverly." And though carnations, roses and the like are available in florist quality at about grocery-store prices, our favorites are the slightly exotic bunches featuring tiger lilies, snap dragons, spider mums and gerber daisies. At about half the price a florist would charge, you'll have enough spare change to buy a vase or basket you'd like to actually use again.
Er'Go's outlet just off Stemmons and Motor Street proves there's never enough of a good thing. Only open on Saturdays, the candle retail company's outlet offers a variety of sizes and scents at about 50 percent off store prices. Though not all scents are available on a given day in every size, it's still the easiest way to find a favorite flavor, be it a travel version in a tin cup, a free-standing pillar or ball or a poured candle in a cut glass jar. The outlet recently moved across the circle from its old location to a larger space, which means more room for browsing and, hopefully, even more candles. It still won't be enough.
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
The downtown farmer's market has more to offer than picking up fresh fruit, browsing potted plants and gawking at expensive wooden furniture. Several of the shed vendors also sell potted herbs ready for planting in the garden or in a terra-cotta strawberry jar. From lemon mint to Italian cilantro, single pots to gallons, the herbs are healthier and less expensive than the chain nurseries. The selection's better, too. And you don't need to be Martha Stewart (or have her support staff) to grow herbs for cooking, making potpourri or just to prove you can actually nurture a plant. No hydroponics needed.
We are not talkin' anything but registered massage therapy here--the kind that can promote circulation, reduce stress and possibly build the immune system if your belief system will take you that far. Rose Ernst has been quietly plying her trade in Lakewood for the last 20 years, using aromatherapy, a deeper variation of Swedish massage--whatever works to get more flexibility in your body and greater awareness in your mind. Her $85 sessions are supposed to last an hour, but with the stress levels she sees, with the misalignments she readjusts, you're done when she's done. So shut up, lie still and enjoy it.
You know how these big new bookstores do us. They open with all kinds of promise; they're fancy; they have real book people working there. That lasts about six months. Then it goes downhill; they hire idiots, and it's like everything else: Nobody knows nuthin', they ain't got it; go back to
Amazon.com where you came from. The difference here is that the huge new beautiful bookstore at Mockingbird and Airline, a few doors down from La Madeleine, is a joint venture between B&N and the SMU bookstore. There's a big section at the back for faculty authors. There is some oversight by the university. Maybe the connection with SMU will be enough to preserve the store's literate soul.
This longtime establishment has been a favorite with art collectors and galleries for years. Its clientele (including Rita Clements, Lupe Murchison, the Edith Baker Gallery, and Dallas' Office of Cultural Affairs) ranges from serious collectors who need to preserve their expensive treasures to everyday customers who treat their children's art like original masterpieces. No matter what the customer request, Frame Masters can fill the need. What makes them such a hit with the society set is their attention to detail and the entire staff's excellent taste. If you have no idea how to frame something, owner Terry Nelson and his staff can always provide you with alternatives that showcase your art and pictures in the best of borders. The real selling point to this shop is its competitive pricing. You can consistently get a better deal on your framing needs compared with equally tony shops. They even beat some of the lower-end mass-market frame outlets.
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?
If you're going to go ahead and drive around all day like that, then you need to go and get yourself a good CB radio. The
Smokey and the Bandit stuff is ancient history. CB's serious now. With a halfway decent setup, you can listen to serious truckers talking about the road, and you can talk to them yourself, seriously. Of course, they'll know right away that you've got a four-wheeler accent. Maybe if you go by Bonnie & Clyde's and get yourself a decent rig with enough reverb, you won't sound so much like a damn lawyer.
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
Follow rabbit trails through mountains of used monitors, rows and rows of pre-owned processors, stacks of second-hand software, all of it at ridiculously great prices. There are even barrels of brand-new modem cards at a tenth of what they would cost at the big places. And at the other end of Tran Computer is a fix-it department. A window on the future, when computers will be junk like everything else? This place is worth a visit if you don't spend a dime.
Anybody can sell you a toilet seat. But what if you have special toilet seat issues? What if you're looking for a certain retro toilet seat palette? Only at Teter's are you going to find an entire rogue's gallery of Toilet Seats of Yesteryear. They've got toilet seats in "Manchu Yellow," "Surf Green," "Aegean Mist," "Twilight Blue," "Bermuda Coral," you name it. At Teter's, you can find the one toilet seat that is perfectly matched to your temperament. One person goes with "Spice Mocha." But the next one chooses "Fawn."
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."
If you're too lazy to schlep to all the various thrift stores in town and don't mind spending $10-$15 on an old T-shirt, Ahab Bowen is your place. People acted as if it were the second coming when Urban Outfitters moved into the upscale Mockingbird Station strip center, but a better and cheaper alternative has been on Boll Street for years. The selection is unbeatable (say, a Willie Nelson tour shirt from the '70s, with the Red-Headed Stranger on the front in his full outlaw glory), the prices are better, and you can pick and choose in the casual atmosphere of a yard sale, since Ahab Bowen is located in an old house. Go to Mockingbird Station to see a flick at the Angelika or grub up on a bowl of bread pudding at Cafe Express. Get outfitted at Ahab Bowen.
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.
Paul Frank, that is. Don't know who he is? Ask any teen or young woman. The designer of apparel and home décor is the beloved creator of Julian the Monkey and other cute cartoon creatures such as giraffes, frogs and elephants. He may sell his T-shirts, backpacks, anklet socks, journals and purses to several sources--Fast Forward, Gadzooks, Pacific Sun and catalog company Delias all carry selected items--but Gifted has everything. And if something's not in stock, Gifted can special order. Owners Michael and Rebecca even promise that if Frank still makes it, they can get their hands on it. We just hope that includes the "animal crackers' parade" shirt we saw three years ago in Kansas. It was just the absolute cutest.
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."
Two condom stores sit nearly side by side at the intersection of Greenville and Lovers Lane. While Condoms to Go is a Greenville Avenue mainstay, Condom Sense popped up more recently. What does it say about your neighborhood when two condom/sex-toy stores go
mano y mano there? We're not exactly sure but definitely prefer to have condom stores than strip clubs as our neighbors. While others fear they represent Times Square-style blight, we think these stores add to the spice of life in the neighborhood. Where else can you get soap on a rope shaped like an oversized phallus, or gift bags that say, "Happy Birthday, you sexy bitch!" We also want to know: Should competition heat up between the two condomeries, will a prophylactic price-drop follow?
The best place to shop for ski clothes in Dallas is in McKinney. Has been since 1979. That's when Doug and Lynda opened what their son and current owner Brad now claims is the largest ski shop in the area (13,000 square feet) dedicated solely to winter sports (skiing and snowboarding). With skiing so damn costly, the shop caters to the average skier, forgoing the high-end lines for popular brands at reasonable prices. But don't expect to find any summer bargains here; the place will be locked shut. It's only open from September 1 to April 1, packing a year's worth of business into seven months, seven days a week. Hey, it works for them.
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.
So much of this "Best of" business is subjective, but about Bobbye Hall's we can objectively state the following: Bobbye Hall's Hobby House is the best hobby house owned by a 92-year-old woman named Bobbye Hall who still comes to work every morning at 9. Additionally: Hall's is the only full-service hobby house in the city. Other places may stock more model trains and what have you, but only Hall's carries the full range of remote-controlled model vehicles and rockets and kites and paint sets and so on. Hall's has stood at the corner of Bryan and Fitzhugh for 55 years. Every time we drive by it, we're amazed it's still open for business, that area of East Dallas not striking us as housing a high concentration of hobbyists. And every time we drive by, we promise ourselves we'll stop in when we have more time. Maybe this weekend.
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.
The Nest is tangled with pricey whimsy crafted by local and other artists. You'll find dazzling blown glass ornaments, painted furniture that should only be approached under black lights with the aid of hallucinogens, iron/steel works (things to stick in the ground and all that), candles that smell like a grandmother's dressing table and magic wands that don't vibrate. Plus, they have daffy table chess sets that serve as metaphors for nature's most virulent struggles: fish vs. fishermen; cats vs. dogs; and rockers vs. country crooners, among others. We're waiting for Rottweilers vs. Rugrats.
The thing we like most about Mark & Larry's Stuff is the vast selection of unusual greeting cards. We were particularly delighted to find one that featured a medical-like photograph of an anus. It was perfect for the boss. It also carries cool magnets with bizarre cartoons, political statements, film icons (including scenes from John Waters' films). This store also offers a large selection of artsy or unusual gift items, including custom jewelry, odd toiletry items, unique books and picture frames.
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.
With its huge selection, its reasonably nice shopping environment and half-decent coffee in the restaurant, this is the place to try before Amazon.com., which, by the way, is a great place to find used books. The last time we hunted for an out-of-print gem, Sebastian Japrisot's
One Deadly Summer, even Amazon couldn't deliver. But there it was on one of Half Price's endless shelves, an unread paperback copy for $5.95. On the way to the check-out, we passed on the recycled Blue Oyster Cult albums, but the selection looked pretty deep.
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
Like our high school prom date, A Jewelry Place isn't much to look at, but it gets the job done. And quickly. We have visited this 3-year-old store on several occasions with watches in various states of disrepair. Each time, the problem was solved while we waited and so inexpensively that we had to ask twice to make certain we'd heard correctly how much the fix would cost. It's also possible that we had to ask twice because the staff is from Vietnam and more facile with jeweler's tools than with the king's English. In fact, on our most recent visit, to have a pin in a watch band replaced, they took the time to explain that the pin bent because we wear our watch too tight, then refused to be paid at all.
A recent expedition in search of some comfortable sandals uncovered something that was otherwise unavailable elsewhere: a sharp-looking new design from Ecco, a British company that specializes in shoes made to be walked in. (Imagine that: women's shoes that are meant to be walked in for sale, here in Dallas!) The helpful salesman said the shipment was brand-new and in the store because this is the place where Dillard's tests new designs. Think of it as a year-round Detroit Auto Show for feet: If a design goes over well here, Dillard's will sell it at all of its stores nationwide. All this means that Dallas women can go to Dillard's, buy the latest design and actually help set a national trend. Oh, what fun!
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.
Stuck in between a Kroger food store and a Mama's Pizza, the adventurous can pick up a little Armani sweater for a fraction of the original price. Sometimes, the garment hasn't even been worn. The owners of this place have a good eye. They arrange sleek threads in a way that even the not particularly skillful shopper can spot a tailored deal.
Let's get right to the point. You will find no Escada here. For those of us who have tired of that Dallas (think Highland Park) look--brightly colored suit, big hair--we want to commend any retailer who has tried to inject some style into the Dallas fashionista's mindset. At the 8,000-square-foot store, about one quarter of which is devoted to women's designer ready-to-wear lines, you'll find garments produced by Marc Jacobs, Viktor and Rolf, Joseph and Helmut Lang. The financially unendowed can pick up a T-shirt for $30, while those whose fortunes remain intact can find cashmere coats for more than a grand. The store is expanding its shoe selections but right now carries Alaia.
Walk into this 6,000-square-foot mecca to good men's design with no particular longing to keep your billfold intact. For $1,600, you can get yourself in head-to-toe (we're talking shoes, too) Ermenegildo Zegna, the store's top-of-the line Italian designer who is based in Milan. For the younger man without so much cash on hand, the store has off-the-rack merchandise starting at $600. Either way, you'll walk out a better-dressed and (with the store's tailor who boasts 20 years' experience) better-fitted man than you went in.
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
One client calls it "a party every time you go." This hip salon, which recently moved to a new location, offers a calm, relaxing atmosphere and never a bad haircut. The stylists work with long- and short-haired patrons to get the best fit even if you don't want to go with the most extreme look of the day.
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.
Forget the $45 styling jobs. The $12-$22 cuts at this Park Cities mainstay are sharp enough for the Perots, Hunts and Meyersons, so why not for the junior exec who needs a weekly trim, or out-of-work dotcommer who needs a real job? In business since 1972, the shop's 15 barbers offer a dry clipper cut for $12, a layered cut for $18 or a shampoo and cut for $22. "Doctors, lawyers, real estate people, we have a variety," says barber Keith Gibson. As with shops of old, they have the revolving pole, but alas, no straight-razor shaves. Culwell's staff hung up the straight razor in the '80s for health reasons. These days they do it with injector blades.
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.
Ducky Bob's has been in the business of renting equipment for parties and events in the metroplex for almost 30 years. It simply provides the best amenities for a throwdown. From simple requests for tables, chairs, and large-scale outdoor tents, to full-scale kitchens and supplies, this longtime Dallas institution (which recently purchased former rival Cannonball Party Rentals) is able to satisfy many of the best event planners in Dallas and Fort Worth. Call them for an estimate, and send us an invitation.
It's hot in Dallas. Duh. And, even running from air conditioner to air conditioner, it's still tough to beat the heat. Best way? Shave your head. This is good for the ladies, too. We hear the Sinead O'Connor look is making a comeback. When you get around to it, make sure to stop by the Lakewood Barbershop, a throwback to the days when your dad used to drag you to chop your mullet. They'll treat you like a king, lather up your head and even shave your noggin with a straight razor if you like. Plus, for no extra charge, they'll make sure your beard matches up. No upper-lip hair for the gals.
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.
This is a fine, folksy-eclectic gift store in the thriving Knox-Henderson area. Most of everything is in pastels or unadorned metals. Be sure to check out the store's unusual chess, backgammon and Chinese checkers sets, plus oddball items like a brightly colored grandfather clock (or was that a grandmother clock?) and dressing-room mirrors bordered by hippie slogans. It's a good place to shop if you want to add life to a dull apartment or house. Not to say your taste in design is lacking. Heavens, no. But, eh, about that poster of The Rock in your living room...
Why not dump the SUV (where's the "sport," anyway?) and buy a scooter? No sudden rollovers. No history of tread separation. No sneering looks or cards on your windshield asking, "Why is your vehicle so big?" or unwanted stickers on your bumper saying, "I'm ruining the planet, ask me how!" Stop the highway arms race and hop on a cool, Euro, high-mileage Aprilia scooter, the modern-day Vespa. Those weird Italian clothes are strictly optional. This shop carries five models, in retro and sports styles, starting at $2,600.
Looking for a place where a friendly staff actually reads the books they sell and will suggest something other than what's on
The New York Times' best-seller list? Maxwell Books has been fighting the good fight against the warehouse chain stores and cluttered used book places since 1986 and is alive and doing quite well, thanks. The selection of hardbacks, paperbacks and children's books is good, and if they don't have exactly what you're looking for, they'll order it and give you a call in a couple of days. Check the shelves for personal notes written by staffers who critique many of the books in stock. You can also choose from a good selection of magazines and greeting cards. And watch the store's schedule of visiting authors who stop in to speak, read from their works and sign autographs. Additionally, you can buy gift certificates that will be honored at other independent stores throughout the country.
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.
If Fred Flintstone needed to redecorate the cave, this would be the first place he'd try. Huge rough-hewn log beds, dressers that look like nicely stacked woodpiles, candlesticks made out of hefty iron spikes. The cowboys 'n' Indians air of the place and the mixture of cabin, ranch, cottage and Southwest styles give this Park Cities veteran a lighthearted, on-vacation feel. Great for adding a casual touch to a room or two.
If you were paying attention, you'd realize that Rajan Patel and Jeffrey Lee had to come out from under the stairs at Stanley Korshak sometime, if only to feel the sunshine on their faces or the wind in their hair. After running Korshak's tiny flower business together for four years, Patel and Lee have opened their own new shop, "with our same fresh take on flowers," Patel says. After only a few months, Grange Hall/Urban Flower was contracted to provide floral decorations for the Dallas Contemporary Art Center's annual "Legends" award party. The architectural minimalist arrangements Patel and Lee made were blessed by Contemporary director Joan Davidow. "Visiting Grange Hall/Urban Flower is like stepping into a surreal fantasy forest, bedecked with paper animal sculptures, mystical scents and primitive bowls," Davidow says. "We both have studied fashion," Patel says, "so that's always part of our sensibilities. In the new space, we have gift items, art pieces and home décor."
This mixed-use development is a strip of über-contemporary industrial design with an angular vertical emphasis containing luxury lofts, shops (Virgin Megastore, Urban Outfitters, pictured above, Bath & Body Works and more), restaurants (Cafe Patrique, Cafe Express, Rockfish and more) and the eight-screen Angelika Film Center & Café that features art films. This is a strip mall urban village industrial collage jumble that's just plain cool.
No place in the metroplex, maybe the universe, has the selection of buttons that you'll find at Pursley Discount Fashions. From designer to your everyday plastic, all sizes and shapes, ranging from 2 cents up. There are tens of thousands to choose from. If you sew and are looking for notions, this place is like a trip to Disneyland. While you're there, you'll also be impressed with the selections of designer fabrics at discount prices and ladies' sample clothing.
Joel Hinojosa started picking up pocket money by giving his classmates at Adamson High School haircuts in his house 35 years ago. Many of those same customers still come to his four-chair shop at the back of Preston Tower (big high-rise across Northwest Highway from Park Cities Baptist). These days he barbers an impressive lineup of major sports and business figures in the city. For the average guy, $18 buys a very polished haircut and a whole lot of old-fashioned barbershop gossip. And you never know whom you're going to see in there. Could be somebody famous. Could be you in the mirror, hard to recognize because you look so much better.
Readers' Pick
Sports Clips
8300 Gaylord Parkway
972-668-5324
Outlet stores being what they are--discounted, picked-over merchandise that didn't sell well the first time around--it's hard to gush about this genre of retail. But Nordstrom brings in its goods fresh from its main stores several times a week, and the discounts are deep enough to make being slightly out of fashion, fashionable. The Rack is a Nordstrom-in-miniature, selling everything from swimwear to underwear to ready-to-wear. But it's the well-stocked supply of name-brand footwear that makes bargain hunting worth the hunt.
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.
You can try all the discounts and chains. But when you have cleaning residue mucking up your carpets, call these guys. They don't stop until the water from their machines runs clear and your carpets are clean. And, well, that's what rug cleaners should do. Right? Clean your rugs. See the reason they are designated "best"? Good. Then have your rugs cleaned. So there.
For those of you who wouldn't think of squirting even every now and then from a bottle of WeedBGon, this is the store for you. They know how to do everything the right, organic way. Compost your hearts away, and pick up your ladybugs and a few good plants while you're at it.
Just the right size (pretty darned big but not overwhelming), owned and run by a family, easy to get to (Abrams and Gaston), the right mix of staff (grown-ups who know stuff, kids to load your car): Lakewood Hardware is still the best. You will almost never leave without the gizmo you need. You will never leave mad. Some people never want to leave at all.
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.
There's no downtown-area grocery store, a major albatross for development hopes in Dallas' near-abandoned skyscraper zone. Adventurous urbanites downtown and in Deep Ellum must slog the distance to faraway groceries to stock their fridges and pantries. At least there's Henry Street Market. Lacking the requisite beer, lotto or cigarette come-ons in its front windows, you may overlook this humble Deep Ellum storefront. But inside are goodies you need in between shopping forays--Tostitos, toothpaste, pickles, cake mix, fresh fruit,
Maxim magazine--and a few dry goods not normally partial to quick-stop joints: candles, picture frames and something called Ayurvedic soap.
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
Shopping at Sam Moon Trading Co. on a Saturday afternoon is kinda like walking down Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras--minus the naked breasts and 32-ounce hurricanes, of course. But this place is just that crowded. It's a shopping mob. And like Mardi Gras, Sam Moon is almost too much to take in at once. From the moment you walk through the door, you're shoulder to shoulder with an army of women with glassed-over eyes and arms filled with goodies. There's also the occasional husband hidden away in one of the store's corners, holding a basket and looking just a little bewildered. But if you like cheap, funky jewelry (which we do) and gaudy sequined purses (which we do), then fighting these crowds is worth it. Sam Moon's selection of adornments for the ears, neck, wrists and toes is beyond compare. Just remember: Move fast and don't be afraid to use your elbows.
After you sign your apartment lease, do not pass go and collect $200. Instead, point your large automobile toward Deep Ellum and cruise over to Home Concepts, the one-stop shopping location for futons, CD racks, couches, lights, computer desks and whatnot. The eclectic and large selection of merchandise is very affordable and not at all stodgy. Also good for decorating the college dorm room or (shudder) the condo.
Sure, you've got your young bucks, trying to get to the top of the courthouse food chain, winning trials and making names for themselves on the backs of baby prosecutors who are still cutting their teeth on DWI cases. But there is something reassuring about choosing George Milner to represent you. No one can evaluate a case as well as Milner; no one can analyze the collective passions and thought processes of a jury as well as Milner. What he lacks in flash and youth, he makes up for in finesse and wisdom. If you are in big trouble and you have big money, he is still the man in town to see.
This eclectic Deep Ellum shop has nothing you need but just about anything you might want. From postcards and handbags to picture frames and decorated hairbrushes, Mark & Larry's has it all--which makes it an excellent place to find a gift for that person who has everything. They also offer the best selection of greeting cards in town. No matter the occasion, this place has a card for it. Some are sweet and sentimental, but some are crass and downright cruel. And those are the ones we like. Just be sure to keep an eye on the parking meter. It's easy to while away an entire afternoon thumbing through every card in the rack. Or is that just us?
No, not
those kinds of toys. Yes, we're the paper that once published a giant full-color shot of a dildo on its cover, but sometimes even we think about things other than sex. Television mostly. (Shallow? Us?) When our lusty hearts turn toward things digital, shiny and bright, Sony Style is where we scurry. From sleek VAIO desktop and laptop computers to boom boxes, video games and MP3 players, this sleek Galleria shop has all the goods to inflame our digital desires. Then there are the televisions, super-thin HD plasma models roughly the size of a drive-in movie screen, that cost much more than our first car. Look, we're not saying we like these TVs better than sex. On the other hand, we watch about four hours of tube a day, so we're not saying we don't.
This is the real thing. An original. In business for more than 100 years, Rudolph's looks like a meat market should--big and echoing--and has enough fine aged beef and sausage on hand to gag a tiger. In the long L-shaped counter are strip steaks and made-on-the-premises sausages that are wholesaled to barbecue joints across the state. The filet mignons--cut as thick as you want at $18 a pound--bring your backyard grilling up to four-star standards. The hot dogs and spicy sausages make you swear you'll start working on that diet next week.
Nothing like coming home with a big ol' box of wine. That's the equivalent of four bottles, which means plenty of sophistication for an evening. While most people place boxed wine on the same level as, say, cheap vinegar or water from the dog's dish, some vintners recently began filling the square containers with drinkable product. In other words, it's not just for Franzia anymore. In fact, Central Market carries boxed varietals from Napa Valley, Australia and even France. What makes the snobbish grocery the best place to buy boxed wine, however, is the number of serious shoppers roaming the aisles with wine guides open, intent on finding a bottle mentioned by Robert Parker or prized by
Wine Spectator. The mere act of maneuvering through this crowd as they study each label, walking boldly up to a shelf and grabbing a reasonably priced (read: cheap) box of wine as they gape in horror, is sheer fun.
It's one of those dying arts that's now making a strong comeback. Women are getting back into the kind of sewing that Grandma did, says owner Judy Mack. Not only is she an authorized Pfaff dealer, but she offers a variety of fabrics, supplies, notions, books, patterns and--perhaps most important--instruction classes. Instructors will teach you everything from beginning quilting to installing zippers without tears, tatting and digitizing. There are even classes for the kids and teen-agers. Store hours are 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday through Saturday.
Not only does Nice-born co-owner Yasmine Bohsali serve up the best baguettes and chocolate croissants this side of the Mediterranean, but his shop has become a social gathering spot for French transplants and Americans who speak the language. "Many of our French customers," Bohsali says, "tell us our place reminds them of home because we're authentic." L'Alliance Française, the local chapter of French expatriates, had them cater the group's recent Bastille Day celebration. Store hours are 7 a.m. to 6:30 p.m.
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.
There are lawyers you hire to negotiate your way out of a bad situation and lawyers you hire to fight your way out; Chris Weil definitely falls into the latter category. Within the legal community, some attorneys believe Weil only knows one speed: pit bull. But the truth is he is legally astute, a fine orator, and he mostly gets malicious when it is calculated to gain some advantage for his client. Small wonder the State Bar has hired him to represent the grievance committee in its disbarment suit against Catherine Shelton, accusing her of 19 counts of misconduct toward her former clients. Shelton is the lawyer suspected by Dallas prosecutors of being an accomplice in the murder of her former employee's husband. She has also been a suspect in at least one other murder and has a conviction for aggravated assault. The State Bar rightly figures that if there is anyone who won't be intimidated by the likes of Shelton, it's got to be Chris Weil.
Frequently a readers' pick as the best music store in Dallas, what this chain does best is provide good prices on most of its offerings--and it provides huge offerings. Even somewhat obscure artists from the era when Tower Records carried actual records can be found (on digitally remastered CDs, of course). The store also has tapes, DVDs, posters, magazines and other stuff to keep you occupied for hours. When record-company execs start bitching that online and digital music will destroy their industry, just head to Tower on a Saturday and see people go through the beautiful ritual of touching, reading and purchasing music. Well, it's beautiful to the people who own the store, at least.
When Converse announced it would no longer be manufacturing its Chuck Taylor All-Stars in the United States, we immediately began scouring the Internet for boxes of optical-whites size 13, lest we end up wearing inferior imports. Turns out we need only drive to this Academy location, off Forest and North Central Expressway, which stocks dozens of pairs for a mere $18--a real bargain, considering the versatile veteran of the athletic-shoe world is damned near extinct. The other Academy locations probably stock the shoe as well, but the Forest store--which carries a wealth of affordable athletic gear, from bikes and free weights to swimsuits to hiking boots--is loaded with Converse All-Stars in all sizes and colors. We picked up some blue high-tops and off-white low-tops, just so we'd never run out. And we're going back tomorrow to get some more.
Oh, what fortunate shopaholics, we! We don't have to live in New York City or Los Angeles or Las Vegas to be able to visit venerable American retailers such as Macy's, which has a flagship store at Dallas Galleria, or logo-laden Gianni Versace, Gucci and Louis Vuitton. Best of all, we gluttonous purveyors of platinum plastic have two--count 'em, two--Tiffany & Co. stores. Jewelers abound in Dallas, and each seems to have found its niche. We like the dirt-cheap yet fabulous sterling silver at Sam Moon. We love the jewelry department at Stanley Korshak at the Crescent, which always has the best of the hip designers--Tina Chow comes to mind. We swoon at the mostly artist-made baubles and bangles at Mark & Larry's Stuff. Still, for the real deal, the romance, the ambience, the little blue box, we'll spend what little we have left over at Tiffany's. The store's reputation for quality diamonds, staff expertise, platinum and sterling is second to none. A small gift selection, including sterling baby gifts and frou-frou ceramics, offers exquisite stuff. The best bling is pricey, of course, but you have an amazing selection of surprisingly affordable sterling silver jewelry, including rings, at Tiffany's.
CD World must have a stack of these awards by now. But we'll gladly hand it over to someone new...just as soon as we can walk out of the store empty-handed or without at least three new stamps on our frequent shopper card. It's the place to go for cheap prices on all the new, popular stuff (The Vines, The Hives, anyone else worshiped by MTV and the staff of Rolling Stone) and for the no-one-likes-it-but-me records. It's also the only reliable source for used local music, with an inventory that includes entire catalogs by bands such as Bedhead, Baboon and Slobberbone, plus the new releases by bands such as The Deathray Davies and Macavity. The new and used CDs are even shelved together, allowing you to comparison shop as you comb the racks.
Been wanting to say to-hell-with-it-all and hit the open road on your Harley? Not a good idea until you've had the Motorcycle Safety Foundation-approved course taught by certified instructors Andy and Doll Long. For $145 you get three hours of classroom instruction on a Thursday evening, then an all-day Saturday and Sunday session in the parking lot of a nearby high school football stadium. "We go from, 'This is what a cycle looks like,' to balance and swerving," says Mrs. Long. Bikes and helmets are furnished, and the classes are held on all weekends except during the Christmas to New Year's holidays. You've got to be at least 15 to enroll. The oldest student taught thus far was a 92-year-old who said he thought being a biker would help him get chicks. (OK, I made up the part about getting chicks.) According to statistics provided by the Texas Department of Public Safety's Motorcycle Bureau, the skill level the course provides is equal to three years of riding experience. And, if you think an advanced course might be a good idea after a few months, it will last nine hours and set you back another $65. Classes are generally booked up two months in advance, so be patient.
The next time an occasion arises, order a basket of plants and blooms from this shop. Neither you nor your recipient will be disappointed. The arrangements offer the most expressive, lasting value for the money.
That learning can be fun is a good idea in theory, but it doesn't hold up when juxtaposed against a compulsory public school education. And there is something about the concept of an educational toy that seems less playful than a toy ought to be. But Learning Express does its best to dispel these notions, offering a wide array of toys that promote knowledge and still offer kids a rollicking good time. Whether it's the Math Shark or the Geosafari Laptop or a Wrist Rox Bracelet Kit, there is something for every age, gender and interest at Learning Express. Friendly, knowledgeable service cuts against its chain-store origins and that overwhelming feeling you get from a Toys R Us. If you are late for a birthday party and need something fast, not only can you find it here, but Learning Express will gift wrap it as well. That's why the place is a boon to those of us who are poorly organized and might not have been, if we would have only played with more educational toys in the first place.
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.
If you're an organic gardener, Texas-style, a trip to Cedar Hill will be time well spent. Looking for that perfect Abelmoschus moschatus (silk flower) or Rudeckia Herbstsonne (with giant lush leaves like you won't believe)? This is the place. And, if it's a backyard water garden or pond you're wanting to fill with plants, the folks here will tell you whether their lilies or Horsetail or maybe even a little Cork Screw Rush is what you need. They've also got the basics, from cedar mulch to herbs and helpful landscape designing. Even gardening guru Howard Garrett sings this place's praises.
While the rest of the world seems to love soccer almost to the point of obsession, we doubt that many people in Dallas would be able to identify the name Pelé or tell you when to catch the next World Cup. (And if we valued our status as Texans, we wouldn't dare say that we stayed up till wee hours to watch World Cup games but fell asleep during the Super Bowl.) So, for all you soccer subversives out there, Soccer Corner is a "football" mecca. They have all sorts of equipment for actual players--balls, clothing, protective gear--plus T-shirts and hats for those of us who couldn't make a goal if our life depended on it. If nothing else, being a soccer fan will add a little European flair to your life--especially if you buy the "Soccer Players Do It For 90 Minutes" bumper sticker.
If you've got Scottish blood and find yourself in dire need of the lowland "tuxedo" of your native land, all you need to do is call Barbara and Charlene McGowan and schedule a visit to their in-home shop in Arlington. Their kilts, commissioned from a kilt-maker in Scotland, are the real deal and come with all the accessories--the sporran (leather purse) and the sgian dhu (the small dagger traditionally worn in the sock). The entire outfit can run as high as $1,000, but who's counting? In business since '91, the McGowans annually hold a July 1 bash to commemorate Scotland's repeal of the ban against kilts back in 1782, serving up food from the homeland and a contest to determine which kilt-wearer has shown up with the best knees.
Even the chain grocery stores are stocking Boca burgers, Gardenburgers and other fake meat now. But those who want the good stuff--the filet mignon and caviar of the vegetarian world, if you will--can find the largest selection at the Veggie Garden restaurant stacked in freezer cases at the back of the dining room by the buffet. There's Tuno (the fake tuna that tastes like the real deal when mixed with Veganaise, the fake mayo, for Tuno salad sandwiches) and little chicken wings made from soy, with small wooden rods serving as bones. Trust us; they taste much better than they sound. These same fake meats are used in Veggie Garden's all-vegan buffet and menu dishes. Its sister restaurant, Suma's Veggie Cafe, has a small grocery section in its dining room as well.
We troll all over town for steals and like this place best because of the high quality of the resale items. The staff is pleasant, un-pushy. The atmosphere is clean. The prices are reasonable. Make sure to negotiate at the front desk, because they'll usually knock off 10 percent just because you had the nerve to barter.
Of the five Dallas locations and three in Denton County, this Lower Greenville store is the flagship, offering the entire gamut of the hard stuff as well as 1,500 brands of wine, ranging from the best produced by Texas wineries to imports from all over the world. If it's beer you're stopping in for, reserve some time to look over the 100 or more brands, ranging from domestic to imported to microbrew labels. Bottom line is that wine is the specialty of the house, proven by the fact that Goody purchasing director Dick Rick Jr. annually travels throughout Europe, South America and Australia to buy the best of the best.
This category is about quantity. Of the rows of chocolate Super Target sells, which include your standard Halloween-sized bags of Almond Joys, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Snickers bars and the like, there is one deal that will make your eyes pop out: Super Target, the bigger and more upscale version of regular Target, sells a Toblerone bar the size of a fire log for next to nothing. We're talking 14.1 ounces of pure Swiss-made, almond nougat chocolate ecstasy for $4.99. If the triangular-shaped treat isn't your taste, 3.05-ounce Lindt bars can be found for $1.79, and bigger still Cadbury bars, weighing in at a belt-busting 4.05 ounces, go for just $1.29.
The Ole Moon has some of the most inspired hand-crafted jewelry you're likely to find anywhere. Constructed of silver, gold and semiprecious stones, this collection of bewitching baubles, bangles and chains is designed by skilled artisans with a sharply focused eye toward distinctive display.
From the soft, soothing voices to the plush robes and slippers, scented foot mists and cups of herbal tea, everything in this quiet, peaceful spa is first-class. Offerings include a three-hour aromatherapy "double body treatment" featuring exfoliation, body wrap, scalp treatment and full-body massage, or go for the all-day, six-hour respite that compounds these pleasures with a facial, sports manicure and pedicure and a little spa cuisine for the appetite. Either way, this place dishes out
extreme pampering.
Remember the scene in Mallrats where Brodie and T.S. head to the "dirt mall" for a little spiritual cleansing and wind up having their fortunes told by a three-nippled Priscilla Barnes? Well, this place is a little like that; we've never actually visited this flea market's fortunetellers, and there are several, but we're taking it on faith one's gotta have something special up her, ahem, sleeve. If not, there's still plenty o' plenty to keep you occupied from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. Saturday and Sunday--when this joint is open, which means it must be special--from rows of "retailers" peddling "leather" apparel to the dude selling samurai swords (fun for the kids!) to the furniture outlet loaded with stuff we might actually buy, were this 1994. Our fave destination here is the guitar shop--prices so reasonable we bought a National steel and don't know how to play it--but we're also fond of just spending a day without spending a dollar, though the booth selling retro bumper stickers for stoners did get us to cough up a quarter. The dust here got us to cough up a lung.
While bringing home a brand-new kitty or pup is always joyous, the task of finding one usually requires grim trips through various shelters, in which brown and green eyes beckon, "Buy me or I die" from behind steel bars. Of course, the animals at the city's shelter and the SPCA are worthy of saving, but buying a pet there simply opens up a cell for yet another death row inmate. That's why Operation Kindness is the best alternative. It is a "no-kill" shelter, which means that its animals are safe, and, for every one that is bought, a new safe space is open for some other unlikely fella. But the best attribute of this nonprofit shelter is its management: A team of volunteers and employees follows strict policies in handling the animals and, more important, their future owners. Don't be surprised if you go there, only to be turned away because a background check revealed that your landlord doesn't allow cats.
Listen up, fatty, you've had a lifetime of hard work hefting longnecks and munching chicken-fried anything, so why not put that well-earned gut to a little use and try your hand at the Japanese art of sumo wrestling? (That is, if you can call two really big guys bumping bellies an art form. We would, at least to the wrestlers' faces.) Thanks to this game-rental company, even svelte folk can get in on the action. Texas Sumo provides padded vinyl fat suits--complete with helmets with top-knots--mats and referees for pretend sumo bouts, popular for birthday parties, corporate gatherings and the occasional church group. (Must come in handy for settling those thorny doctrinal debates.) The company also rents a wide array of inflatable carnival games, climbing walls and such (see
www.texassumo.com). But for our money, bumbling around in fat suits promises the most fun--just perfect for that big formal wedding reception.
The folks at Zeus have taken issue with our fondness (OK, fetish) for Titan Comics; see only the short piece on its bossman, Jeremy Shorr, to confirm their suspicions. But, see, we love Titan for the comics; it's a fanboy's paradise, a wet dream for those whose erotic fantasies find Power Girl going at it with Black Cat, and meeeeee-ow. Zeus isn't that kind of place, and it just took us awhile to get past that; it's the dork's privilege, if not birthright, to be a little...nitpicky. Actually, we love Zeus, especially come Christmastime or whenever a friend's birthday rolls around; we hang out with people who like comics- and movie-related action figures and board games, and Zeus has plenty, alongside the latest issues of Alias and Detective Comics. We've dropped plenty of coin here on old toys, too--that Captain Kirk doll we had when we were 12, for instance, which now sells for a week's salary (worth every penny...and $20 bill).
Open to the public, this enthusiastic group of mystery readers gathers on the third Sunday of each month (3 p.m. to 5 p.m.) to explore every creepy nook and cranny of the mystery genre. There are visiting authors, book reviewers, collectors, forensic experts and literary agents who drop in to share their expertise and love for a good mystery. The group has been gathering for 10 years and doesn't appear to be anywhere near running out of whodunits to discuss. Admission is free.
They come in more sizes, colors and hairstyles than your average Deep Ellum clubber. Some even sleep in their own custom-designed, hand-woven silk hammocks. Plus, you can teach them to fetch crickets--available by request.
Remind us again: What exactly makes Dallas the "buckle" of the Bible Belt? Granted, when it comes to vice we're no New Orleans--our food isn't nearly that good--but when you consider the availability of nudie bars, porn shops and illicit slots here, it ain't exactly Vatican City either. Case in point: Dallas-based Mutuals.com Inc. this summer launched its Vice Fund (www.vicefund.com), a mutual fund devoted to investing exclusively in tobacco, alcohol, gaming and defense stocks--i.e., the growth industries. We can't speak to the wisdom of their investment strategy, but their honesty, at least, is refreshing.
We begrudgingly part with our secret: When we're headed out to a party and don't have time to cook, we stop by Whole Foods, race to the deli, grab a large container of traditional hummus, book it over to the bakery, snatch a large loaf of rustic Italian bread and head for the checkout line. For $10, you get a classier version of potato chips and French onion dip and something less expected than tortilla chips and salsa. Even when we've splurged for the large sizes, we still have never made it back to the car with leftovers. Unless you count smudges of chickpea in the corner of the bowl and a few crumbs in the bag leftovers.
Skip the chains and find something unique for your young'un. They have both educational and the just-plain-fun variety of playthings at the museum's colorful store. If you take the tykes, you'll have to steer them clear of the fine blown glass and objets d'art. But you might even inject a little culture into their pea-sized brains at the same time as supplying their expensive toy habits. And isn't that nicer than Barbieland or Gameboy speak?
It may not have all the amenities of the Big Bs (Borders and Barnes & Noble), but if you parents can defer your double espresso cravings until you get to Starbucks, there's a little shop around the corner that can service your children's literary needs without the faux community atmosphere of one of the book chains. The shop's mom and pop, Jennifer and Will Anglin, know their merchandise, promote local kid writers and entertainers and do much in-store programming such as puppet shows, kid camps and author visits. Although it is truly "of the community"--Lakewood--its stellar reputation has spread throughout the city.
If you've ever found the perfect bracelet, but it just wasn't the right color, or a pair of earrings that matched the new dress you bought, but they weren't the right style, then you know how frustrating jewelry-buying can be. But at Beading Dreams, no such problems exist. Here, you choose the color. You choose the style. You even choose how much each particular piece of jewelry will cost. And you make it yourself. So you not only get a one-of-a-kind piece of jewelry, but you get the sense of accomplishment that you created it with your own hands. But if your particular hands are more like two left feet, don't worry; Beading Dreams offers classes on everything from basic jewelry-making to stringing on silk to advanced wire wrapping and forming. Classes change with the seasons, though, so call or go by to get a complete schedule.
Chain stores are a lot like chain-smoking. They are as addictive as hell. That's why it's great to celebrate an independently owned establishment that has found success and is not the Gap. Carrying tried-and-true clothing lines like Flapdoodles as well as funky, pint-sized versions of clothes mom and dad wear, this North Dallas business does amazing business with its end-of-the-season sales, which reduce the price of its merchandise by as much as 75 percent. Its partner store--The Biz--has found a niche in pre-teen girls, those Britney Spears wannabes who must look cool but lack the body mass to fit into grown-up sizes.
The Internet has revolutionized the way we communicate, allowing us to keep in up-to-the-minute contact with friends, family and associates around the globe. The only downside to all the instant chatter is its lack of intimacy. For those who still enjoy the old-fashioned art of writing by hand, a good pen makes the experience all the more pleasurable. In Dallas, Penwright is the best place to find a quality pen. Of course, Penwright sells the Rolex of pens--Mont Blanc, but informed pen connoisseurs appreciate the store for its wide selection of elite brands, which include Waterman, Parker, Delta and Stipula.
What makes this Preston Center location a veritable institution for children's walking wear are soft-sell salespeople, a snazzy selection and all the lollipops you can grab as a reward for good behavior. That's your kid's, not yours. A small play area with toys and TV can entertain those extra children who have been momentarily put on hold. Or plan for a kid haircut with Ginger et al., before or after the actual shopping. Be prepared to wait on weekends and back-to-school days.
There are plenty of reasons to shop at this grocery store, not the least of which are the fresh tortillas for which regulars line up from dawn till dusk. But we come back here for all kinds of reasons: the fresh tomatillas (we make a superior home-cooked salsa; you can't have any), the various Mexican ingredients for which Stephen Pyles pines (he doesn't use brown sugar, only canella), that authentic vibe of a store where whitey's too dumb to tread. And we love a place where you can buy an accordion from the merchants up front; we went shopping one day for a little mole sauce and came home sounding like Flaco Jimenez without the talent.
While some big-name designers are finding it's now cool to shop--and be sold--at Target, don't expect to see fashions by folks like Judith Lieber, Stuart Weitzman, Cole Haan, Chanel, Gucci or Prada being racked up near the snack bar anytime soon. Yet you can still find great prices on classy clothing at this North Dallas consignment shop, which specializes in designer and "better label" wear, much of it coming from closets in Park Cities and North Dallas homes. This 4,500-square-foot shop offers sellers a 50-50 split and season-long consignments, while buyers can choose from a wide variety of new and like-new clothing and save even more with frequent sales. (Whenever Foley's has one of its "Red Apple" sales, Clothes Circuit runs a competing "Yellow Banana" sale, with additional 20 percent markdowns on clothing.) On the Web at www.clothescircuit.com.
Let's say little Junior just won't sit still for that pricey photo session you've arranged with Gittings. Let's say you decide to give it one more try and you drop into Kiddie Kandids, where walk-ins are always welcome. Junior is wowed into stillness by one of their many backdrops and props--an oversized flowerpot, a neighborhood fence and a bevy of beach balls. And the photographer begins clicking away, not on some large format camera that will require negatives and contact sheets. But on a digital camera, which flashes its photos on a large computer screen so you can select the first one that works before little Junior breaks down with his third tantrum since breakfast. There is no sitting fee, and in only an hour you have a quality portrait, a gift for any occasion. Now if you can only figure out what the hell to do with little Junior the rest of the day.
"Our philosophy is to build a home that's going to age like a fine wine," says Vintage Contemporaries' Jeff Fairey, who recently spoke from the comfortable interior of his latest project: a gorgeous Spanish Eclectic home, complete with clay tile roof, that's located in the M Streets but could fit right in on Lakewood Boulevard, alongside the 1920s homes built by noted Dallas architect C.D. Hutsell. As the company name implies, Fairey specializes in new homes made to look old. To accomplish that, Fairey does not cut corners on the materials or build blowouts that loom over the neighbors. Instead, he reduces the size of his homes and finishes them out with expert craftsmanship we thought had become a thing of the past. "We make our smaller spaces a lot more grand."
Imagine being a child again, only with money of your own. No more allowance; no more begging Mom for a dollar. No more promising to go to bed on time, do the dishes, take out the trash...Now just whip out the credit card and start filling your adult-sized arms with everything you wanted as a child. Froggie's 5 & 10 has super bouncing rubber balls, yo-yos, gliders, finger puppets, funky keychains, glow-in-the-dark stars and toothpick-dispensing birds. It also fills the needs of grown-up pranksters with hand buzzers and whoopee cushions and collectors of classic TV items with bobbing-head dolls, metal lunch boxes, T-shirts, cookie jars and mouse pads. And you can eat yourself sick with wax candy lips, Nik-L-Nips (wax soda bottles filled with fruity liquid), Necco wafers and candy bracelets, necklaces and cigarettes. There are also racks and baskets full of Pez dispensers. Froggie's counterpart, Tadpoles, has books, games and toys to suit first-time kids, too.
Part of the Bishop Arts District's Renaissance, this pleasant shop carries a wide range of gift items and objects from local artists. Among the constants are personal care items from the Thymes Collection and scented candles from Ergo and Votivo. Co-owner Michael Harrity says he has "without a doubt the strongest candle collection in Dallas." About 70 percent of the market's inventory is unique items, many from local artists, including furniture, paintings, pottery, turned wood bowls, handmade jewelry and metal sculpture. Prices range from about $10 to more than $150. Gift wrapping is free. Because the shop serves a wide geographic area, it has a wide price range that in recent years has been trending upward with the revitalization of the neighborhood.
We've had plenty of arguments about whether or not Zeus is the best comics store in town, and we still think if you've never read a comic book before or haven't since you were a kid, this is the best place to start. Owner Richard Neal and the staff don't sit around engaging in impenetrable fanboy discussions, like who was the better Green Lantern: Hal Jordan or Kyle Rayner? (Dude, Hal Jordan. Come on.) They might have an opinion, but they know the Marvel zombies and fans of their Distinguished Competition will come in anyway, so it's best to cater to the people who've never stepped inside a comics store. Maybe the people who just saw Ghost World at the Inwood and want to read the Daniel Clowes comic it was based on, or the people who saw the yanked Spider-Man trailer and want to read about the wall-crawling superhero they forgot they loved as a kid. Part of catering to that audience means stocking their store with bright and shiny baubles that remind you of being a kid, sometimes literally. Not only does Zeus traffic in new action figures--which have more points of articulation than most humans--they also have plenty of the original toys you remember from childhood. An old Aquaman doll? Got it. Ronald McDonald, the Hamburglar, Mayor McCheese and the rest of the McDonaldland gang? Got those, too. It's like going on eBay without having to outbid someone. They've got it all, new and old, from comic book to Star Wars characters to WWF superstars to an entire wall of Barbie dolls for the ladies. If you want it, they probably have it. And on the slim chance they don't, Neal probably remembers it and will reminisce with you as a consolation prize. Come for the toys, stay for the comics. You'll be glad you did.
This bookstore on the first floor of the main Dallas public library is like a perpetual yard sale. You never can tell what books you might find, but they're guaranteed to be cheap. You can walk out the door with an audiotape, a couple of hardcover books and some paperbacks for less than 10 bucks. At these prices, the time spent looking for something interesting is worth it.
As we anticipate Halloween, the fond memories of years past come flooding back--those days of pinning a black bath towel around our shoulders, wedging two pointy candy corn under our top lip and chasing our younger sibling with the forbidding chant, "I vant to suck your blood!" in the best Transylvanian accent we could muster. Now, as an adult, the times we thirst for human blood are rare. Yet, on some level, it would still be fun to have fangs. Enter Pamela Sedmak, owner of Fangtastic Fangs. For $125, she will hand-carve a set of fangs custom-fitted to your mouth. In the past 10 years, Sedmak has made hundreds of fangs for actors and Halloween costumes, but most of her clients are just "normal people." (Once vampirish dental prostheses are involved, "normal" becomes a very subjective term.) The fangs are incredibly realistic and durable--she's had her pair for 12 years--but she doesn't recommend eating ("OK, maybe a Jell-O shot") or trying to open beer cans with them. Plus, if Anne Rice likes them, how can we argue?
Handbooks, mouth books, bum books. Crossroads Market and Bookstore has sex manuals of every type. And they're just there on the shelf, not behind a counter or hidden beyond a velvet curtain. Just there by the cookbooks and romance novels and magazines and various knickknacks and greeting cards. But accessibility is only part of the issue. No one will look at you funny if you browse. Sure, you may giggle and blush to the shade of red found on the rainbow flags all around Cedar Springs, but no one will care. Not even the cashier, the woman standing in line to buy pie at the cafe or the guy using the Internet. Not that we would know, of course.
Awhile back, we got it into our heads that we would enjoy a small pond in our back yard. Maybe a modest waterfall. A couple of fish. Surely, we figured, even a klutz like us could handle a simple project like that. Well, we were wrong. Weeks later, after multiple trips to Home Depot, we were enjoying a black, fetid bog that produced all the mosquitoes we ever could have hoped for. So we found our way to Creative Water Gardens, and, for a couple of hundred dollars, they held our hands (both of them) and set us straight. Not only do they offer the largest selection of koi in the area, from a simple $5.99 version to a 3-year-old costing $2,000; not only do they have the widest selection of aquatic plants, 250 varieties at last count; not only do they carry all the pumps and filtration gadgetry and chemicals and food we needed; but they also have a resident kitty cat who rubs against our leg every time we visit. (Please note: The kitty is as yet unnamed. Suggestions are welcome.)
If you're looking for a way to get on Bowser's good side, this is the place to call. Co-owners Braden Tripp, a former chef, and Jonathan Pickens have a list of freshly made goodies that will have your pet slobbering more than usual. The menu has everything from Bow Wow Bagels ($4 a dozen) to Paw Paw's Old Fashioned Oat Meal Cookies ($5 per dozen) to Canine Cheese Sticks ($6 per dozen). None of the treats contains preservatives, artificial flavoring or color, and they're not all hot out of the oven. They'll even deliver frosty Pupsicles (with peanut butter and bananas) for the pooch who's been in the sun all day.
Bridget Barfield was a teacher for many years but quit her job over frustration with her administrators. Eventually, she found herself at one of those career counseling services that uses a personality test to recommend what course in life for which one is best suited. The test said she should sell shoes. And that is how Heart and Sole came to be. It is the only all-Birkenstock store in town. Barfield opened the store with her daughter Brooke a little more than a year ago. We are very particular about our favorite, hard-to-find model of Birkenstock. Heart and Sole carries it, along with about 400 other styles.
This 1.5 million-square-foot mall near D-FW has everything anybody could possibly want in the way of escaping the weather and wasting time. The 5-year-old mall is one of the largest in Texas and offers a bunch of stuff to do besides shopping. The mall has a 30-screen theater, restaurants and a GameWorks that has a bar. If you get bored with the mall, a Bass Pro Shops Outdoor World is right across the parking lot. There you will see all manner of outdoorsmen and outdoorswomen who make a pilgrimage to this fishing mecca. Also, when you get bored, play "Guess Which Shopper is From Oklahoma." That's always fun.
A few months back, the fine owners of Zeus Comics and Collectibles in Turtle Creek Village took umbrage at our insistence that Titan Comics is "the only comics shop that matters." Hey, we can see why they'd be a little unhappy--you don't advertise in a paper expecting it to label your establishment a moot point--but hear us out. Now, Zeus is a fine place to buy brand-new (or close to it) comics, and it's an excellent store for those in search of action figures, high-priced Barbie dolls and other geek errata (count us in on all of it). It's a dilettante's paradise, actually. But the hard-core collector--the fetishist who still lives with Mom or the fanboy with a wife and mortgage--spends his days and long green over at Titan, tucked away in a predominantly Spanish-speaking shopping center across from Bachman Lake. Jeremy Shorr and his knowledgeable girl wonders (as always, it's refreshing to find women behind the counter in a comic-book shop) preside over a store filled with nothing
but comics, many of which date back to the Silver Age and beyond (Shorr recently began purging the action figures at bargain prices). Titan's got what the purist craves: a staggering smorgasbord of boxes filled with bagged-and-boarded back issues, a wall of trade hardbacks and paperbacks, cases crammed with history books about the oft-maligned medium and
two walls papered with new and current issues. It doesn't discriminate between DC, Marvel and, oh, Fantagraphics: You can find Chris Ware's hypnotically clever work mixed in among the latest Marvel (ironically named)
Ultimate title, and you'll find old Neil Adams'
Green Lantern-Green Arrows alongside Kevin Smith's recent take on the subject. Fact is, we're thinking of moving in...or applying for a job when this journalism thing doesn't pan out. It's the dork's home away from home, and we couldn't be more delighted to pay some of the rent.
Yes, get a pet...and love it, and care for it, and KEEP it! In doing the research for this tender category, we were privy to far too many animals abandoned in moves or given away because they cost too much to feed (what?). And, of course, there's the unfortunate "he was cute when he was young, but now he's grown and, well, not so much." We advise never to utter those words near us. That's why we adopted our little babe (turned over for no apparent reason) at the Animal Adoption Center. It's a nonprofit, no-kill shelter, and it's in dire straits. For providing such amazing service and surviving for years on donations and the aid of volunteers, they've been "awarded" the daunting task of raising $50,000 or being forced to close. That sucks, because they care. For the adoption fee, the center has arrangements with vets in the area for complimentary spaying and neutering, and all animals are up-to-date on shots. Five years later, we're still grateful to the center for providing us with such an amazing companion, and he's grateful to them for making sure he lived to see adoption.
If you thought Whole Foods had a unique selection of soap, you haven't seen anything. Established in 1752, Caswell-Massey is, as it claims, "America's oldest chemists and perfumers," and now Dallas residents can shop at one of its newest locations. Need soap? They've got a skin-tingling array of domestic and imported soaps made of everything from oatmeal to lavender and beyond. The store also sells a wide array of other pampering products, including body oils, shampoos and crèmes. Unlike many toiletry stores, which tend to focus on her needs, Caswell-Massey carries a wide selection of men's products, including sandalwood and almond-scented shaving creams. They go perfectly with the house's very own silver-tipped badger shave brush. Remember those?
At some point, almost all of the big mall computer stores decided they couldn't afford to hire salespeople who actually know anything. Micro Center is the exception: Prices are competitive, but Micro Center also puts smart salespeople on the floor. Their own line of computers is usually a good buy, and the shelves almost always offer a fuller line of choices, from peripherals to software, than what you will find anywhere else. Another miracle: When the salespeople don't know the difference, they say, "I don't know the difference."
One weekend last spring, we were riding our bicycle around White Rock Lake with our faithful wife and our sometimes faithful toddler son when we chanced to see a well-made sign standing in the grass, along the lake's shore. The sign read, "Free Advice." Near it sat two men in comfortable lawn chairs. Between them, on the ground, was spread a blanket. We stopped, thinking it was some sort of performance art. Turns out, Roderick MacElwain and Neal Caldwell have been doing this most Sunday mornings, weather permitting, since 1996. And it is not performance art. MacElwain and Caldwell are gainfully employed, somewhat eccentric, very thoughtful fellows who enjoy giving advice on subjects from plumbing to marriage to large-animal veterinary medicine (all fields, by the way, in which they do have experience). We and our wife that weekend wound up posing a question that can be summarized as, "What should we do with our lives?" We were not disappointed with the advice we received.
Let's say you've found a cherry 1946 Martin 6 horsepower boat motor in your grandfather's garage, but the rope-pull starter mechanism is broken. You know what most boat shops around Dallas are going to tell you? Tie a rope to it and use it for an anchor. But Barber Boats on Harry Hines is old-style, meaning they actually know how to fix stuff. Boat motors shouldn't be like computers: The answer shouldn't always be to throw it away and get a new one. At Barber it's not like that.
Perusing the racks, you may find the occasional space where a video once had a home but is now long gone. In its place stands a card berating the thief, with identification if possible. On their Web site, along with new arrivals and special event info, owner Ben Moore features a shoplifter of the week. Needless to say, in person or on the Net, the descriptions are never flattering and always entertaining. We love the ones complete with photos. While you're there, check out a cult flick or Mark Ryden's latest book.
It may be time to retire this category for one simple reason: No one comes close to matching GameStop's selection of new and used video games and hardware. That's why this Grapevine-based company, with more than 1,300 stores nationally, is a perennial winner in Best of Dallas. The clerks know their merchandise; the prices, while not greatly discounted, are reasonable; and we doubt that it's possible to drive more than a few miles in Dallas without being near one of the chain's locations. But why do we love it so? Here's why: We wandered in looking for a copy of the coveted Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic on the day it was released. "Have you preordered a copy?" the clerk asked. "No," we said, lip trembling, tears welling in our childlike, 41-year-old eyes. No problem. He felt our pain and reached under the counter to find us a reserve copy. The guys at GameStop? They know your joneses, fellow gamers, and they sympathize.
We aren't picky about where we get our hay or our burlap sacks. We'll buy our pot-bellied pig chow from any Tom, Dick or Harry who stocks the stuff. But fox urine is an entirely different matter. We won't buy it from just anyone--mainly because just anyone doesn't carry it. Fox urine is one of those commodities that can only be found on the shelves of stores run by women with names like Dodie, which happens to be the name of the woman who runs the Mesquite Feed & General Store. Dodie is not a city girl. If you ask her, she will be pleased as pie to explain why you might need fox urine. Bless your heart.
Once again, the key ingredient to a good bookstore is its selection. And the selection of used books (not to mention software and music) at Half Price Books is far and wide. In fact, its store on East Northwest Highway in Dallas is so big, this book lover's companion recently made the mistake of taking a trip into the store's "paranormal" section and wound up vanishing into thin air. It took a good hour for her to reappear with body intact, book in hand and, after checkout, bank account still padded.
Comic-book auctions have become quite a lucrative market in recent years, and the king of this particular hill is Dallas' Heritage Comics Auctions. For example: Last year, when Nicolas Cage decided to sell off his entire comic-book collection--which contained such prize books as Action Comics No. 1 (the first appearance of Superman) and All-Star Comics No. 3 (the debut of the Justice Society of America, the first superhero team)--he went with Heritage. Spider-Man/X-Men/Fantastic Four co-creator Stan Lee also tapped the auction house when he wanted to sell off a sizable chunk of his (obviously) extensive assortment of books. Though Heritage still deals primarily in rare coins, the comic trade made the company more than $10 million since it began dealing in funny books in 2001--and that was before they helped Cage sell his collection. If you've got a big wallet rubbing up against a set of Incredible Hulk Underoos, look no further. Oh, and the second-best place? Mark Cuban's house.
Jim DeNoyer isn't the original live-action Fan Man. Think of him as playing Dean Cain to the George Reeves who started the business back in the late '70s. DeNoyer didn't don the tights and cape until 1994, when he bought the business. Now The Fan Man carries more than 400 antique, restored and reproduction fans in his modest Lakewood shop. A reproduced 1912 Gyro fan goes for $2,500. A restored 1930s-era metal-blade desk fan might run $300. And The Fan Man is one of the few people in the entire country to whom you want to bring your old-fashioned fan for restoration. He is truly a man of steel.
Dial-up service is fast becoming antique, but Texas.Net's $20-a-month home service is the best cheap and reliable Internet access we know of. The 9-year-old Austin-based outfit is a boutique among giants, but the big guys could learn a thing or two from them about service. In five years we've never had access or billing problems, and the e-mail is as reliable as it comes. Perhaps the best part is the e-mail address you get on their system:
yourstrulytexas.net. Nobody will think you hail from Philadelphia with an address like that. It's Lone Star all the way.
This little blue house turned Mexican import store also consists of a neighboring garden shed full of hidden, hanging piñatas of many a color, shape and size. Sarita's fills custom orders when provided a photo and given at least two weeks' notice. So if you've been wondering how to get your hands on, say, a George W. Bush piñata for your next big birthday bash, now you know where to go.
Still the best video rental joint in Dallas, no one compares to Premiere Video--which is what makes it, duh, premier. The staff is knowledgeable and helpful, the store is easy to browse, and there's a good chance they have the hard-to-find video for which you've been jonesing ever since that artsy dude at the office embarrassed you by saying, "Oh, my, you've never seen
blankety blank?" While chain rental stores mostly trade in current releases and let their back catalog languish, Premiere is fully stocked in a plethora of genres including film noir, Hitchcock thrillers and BBC drama series. Interested in Brigitte Bardot's lesser-known films? Busy exploring Willem Dafoe's oeuvre? It's all there. The store is rapidly building its DVD collection as well.
So we needed some leather cleaner. Nearly $100 later, we left Elliott's with things we needed and things we didn't and were once again assured that this is probably the best hardware store on the planet. Not to be sexist, but the male buying impulse is so well identified and satisfied here that even the cookware looks good. Of course, the formula is simple. High-quality goods are well displayed and backed up by a knowledgeable sales staff. Sure, this is the perennial pick. But to send you anywhere else for the sake of novelty would be untrue to the double-blind-test, peer-review standards we employ in these matters.
No matter how hard we bemoan the loss of the mom-and-pop hardware store, no matter how inept we are at handymanshipness ourselves, no matter how much we would like reality to be different, let's face it: Elliott's rules--certainly in this category, anyway, as it has for years. The big boys like Lowe's and Home Depot feel so, how shall we say this, Wal-Mart-ish and just don't tape-measure up when it comes to sales, service and such. Nowhere can you find more interesting stuff, nowhere is that stuff as easy to access, nowhere can you find more knowledgeable help--or any help at all, for that matter. The folks at Elliott's do their best to make home improvement more than just a rerun of a so-so TV sitcom.
Sure, you can buy one of those hardware-store chain saws that are light and dainty and easy to start. But what's the point? Would you buy a hybrid-electric Harley? You need a big damn chain saw. Loud! You need one of them orange helmets with a visor. You need chain saw chaps. In fact, if you get the orange helmet and the chaps, you might not even need the saw! So don't go to the hardware store. Go to Gassett, where the real lumberjacks and lumberjills go. They got Stihl (pronounced "Steel," by the way). They got Echo. The real stuff. Don't be a chain saw wannabe. Be real! Get Stihl!
You can find the same thrill you got by freeze-framing Mark Wahlberg's prosthetic reveal at the end of the Boogie Nights video along the card racks at Nuvo. Really. Such titillating schlong photography you have never seen, and even Nuvo's long-standing reputation as a happy bastion for gay men in Dallas' colorful Oak Lawn area can't keep the straight women out. It's fun to watch the hetero gals crowd the (presumably) homo guys in front of the full-color, full-frontal nudity cards-for-any-occasion. Nuvo features other cards, too--many with meditative, philosophical and funny sentiments--but we've never found such a selection of naughty bits. And we've looked long and hard. We were just trying to see if the models were wearing falsies. Still looking. Jury's out. Hung jury.
There's nothing like coming home to that furry little child that's just fine with eating off the floor and relieving himself in public. That look of appreciation and little mew or woof of love is worth all the money in the world--and sometimes the loyal pet owner will pay just that to keep creatures great and small in good health. Employers, however, don't often give time off for an animal's doctor appointment like they do for human children, so it helps to find a place with accessible hours in addition to fair prices. Not to mention, Hillside has a plethora of vets on staff to treat family members ranging from the average baby kitty to the not-so-average hedgehog. The clinic provides prescriptions, carriers, food, accessories and boarding--hot diggity dog!
Whether you're a pro or just a weekend hobbyist who loves the eau de toilette of freshly cut grass blended with two-cycle engine emissions, Casey's has the goods--even those heavy-duty back-mounted leaf blowers that look like flamethrowers (Die, leaf pile! Die!). Casey's has all the brands that draw lawn grunts--Toro, Honda, Echo, Snapper, Stihl, Shindaiwa, Lawn Boy--and offers pickup and delivery service. Plus the staff is polite, knowledgeable and accommodating, which isn't easy when your head is humming with a two-cycle weed whacker buzz all day.
Didn't you ever want to dig a hole in the back yard, put some water lilies in it, put some fish in it, sit around and look at it? Well, you should, man. What's the matter with you? Nowadays everybody sells the basic equipment, even Home Depot, but most of the people who sell it have no idea how to do it. The people at Water Gardens Galore originally got into the business by servicing existing ponds. They really know their stuff, and they can tell you how to avoid the pitfalls, such as mosquitoes. (You buy little mosquito-eaters, and it's no sweat after that.) There's a little bit of an art to it, and they can tell you what it is. Live in an apartment? You can do a balcony pond. Really. Time to move? Heave-ho over the edge. It's part of the natural cycle.
You want a TC bare-bones system, Amptron MB, AMD Duron 1.2 gig-hz processor, ATX case, 250-watt power system, 256 Mb of ram, Sis Video and Sis Sound, Sis Network 10/100 mhz plus Sis Modem 56K V90, serial, parallel, USB and PS2 ports with a 15-inch monitor for $520? No, wait. Maybe you want a Toshiba notebook with Intel P-120 mhz processor, 48 megs of ram, a 1.4 gig hard drive, 6x CD rom, SVGA Video with Sis sound, 28.8 modem, serial and parallel ports with MS Windows 98 for $199. This stuff is used, but that's better than the only other way you'll ever see these prices, which is out of a bad person's car trunk. Tran Computer is good, and it makes good on its guarantees. You need it now and you need it cheap: See Tran.
We know someone--the name begins with "M" and rhymes with "brother"--who still doesn't own a DVD player. She claims she never will but defends her right to complain that no one carries videocassettes anymore. Lucky for her (and her technophobe brethren), there is one last sanctuary. Movie Trading Company still carries VHS tapes, and used ones are only $5.99. But if you buy four--say,
Dirty Dancing,
Memphis Belle,
Road House and
Autumn in New York--then they're five bucks apiece. There are rows upon rows, because, really, what 15 people don't need an almost-new copy of
Teen Wolf? Let's just hope this oasis in the desert of DVDs doesn't dry up. Mom might have to learn to work another scary small appliance.
This chic urban pampering asylum done up in shades of swimming-pool blue offers a full menu of delicious traditional treatments like stone therapy massage, anti-aging facials and skin-rejuvenation treatments, in a soothingly comfortable atmosphere. But it goes beyond the ordinary, with laser hair-removal procedures, and Botox treatments and collagen injections administered by a board-certified plastic surgeon. Aqua also offers massages, manicures and pedicures and therapeutic facial mud fights. (Just kidding about the last one.)
This place is much more esoteric than it is bookstore. All kinds of herbs and oils with healing and other powers abound. So do votive candles adorned with saints to pray to and things to wish for. Burning a dark green lucky candle adorned with dice, horseshoes and numbers could help a believer win the lottery, for example. Saying the corre diablo corre prayer on the back of a black, burning run devil run candle helps keep evil at bay. And burning a dark blue Saint Dymphna candle while praying to the "youthful martyr of purity" can help console and give strength to those suffering from "nervous disorders, mental anguish or addictions." If you need to break or cast a hex, the appropriate candles line the shelves here as well.
An evil-eye talisman is a Turkish charm that is supposed to bring luck and ward off those who wish to do you harm--both concepts we can get on board with. Plus, they look really cute on a gold chain or possibly a silver bracelet. Yes, we're superstitious, but not at the expense of fashion. In any case, the best place to go for the evil eye is Another Time & Place, on the trendy Knox-Henderson strip (a second location opened in Plano earlier this year). They've got evil eyes for every occasion and every person. Besides jewelry, there are evil-eye key chains, magnets, coin purses, door hangers and more. So, really, there's no excuse not to protect yourself. But that's not all. Another Time & Place is the trinket-shopper's crack house. The stuff's always there, and you can never get enough. But for some reason, we're always drawn to the good-luck charms; you know, like mini-Buddhas and three-legged pigs...OK, fine, make fun if you wish, but you might as well break a bunch of mirrors and stand under a ladder.
Mark Sonna and Larry Groseclose opened their Deep Ellum hipster gift store seven years ago and just this summer opened a second location downtown. The new store is a lot like the old store, except there are posh neighbors like Neiman-Marcus and the Adolphus Hotel, and a vintage atmosphere in the restored 1913 Woolworth Building. Both locations feature kitsch, artist-designed jewelry, retro toys such as pet rocks, sea monkeys and paint-by-number sets and funky home furnishings, but what we like best are the wall-to-wall greeting cards. Mark & Larry's carries more than 30 of the best lines--Nobleworks, which are funny; Fotofolio also--and hard-to-find handmade cards, many from England. British artists create one-of-a-kind, elaborate cards for the English Card Company and Vigo. Mark & Larry's carries frames to fit the card works of art--very cool idea, particularly if you pay more than $10 for a card.
No other place satisfies kids and the inner child in their parents quite the way Zeus does, with a wide-ranging inventory containing everything from mint-condition artifacts meant to be kept behind glass to newer, cheaper stuff meant to be banged around inside a toy box. Stuffed animals, action figures, Barbies, movie tie-ins, board games, bobbleheads, even the McDonaldland Gang--they've got it all and then some.
Other stores are too bright, clean and well-kempt to look like Championship Vinyl, the record store John Cusack owned in
High Fidelity. But AWOL has that slightly disheveled, dank, grungy feel of home...for music nerds, at least. It also has Cusack character Rob's sense of categorization. How many genres of punk are there? We're sure there's more each time. There's also usually more junk, too. AWOL is one of the few places where you can pick up that out-of-print Fugazi album and a vintage radio missing a knob and a plug. Ah, just like home.
America loves the hairless. Hair removal has taken the place of the manicure as a status symbol and has made its way onto many a Dallas woman's schedule. We think it might be a touch excessive and masochistic to use an Epilady, and Nad's has been road-tested by several staffers here, and we got no satisfaction. So we turn to the experts, Ms. Hunter in particular, for a considerably more pleasant hair-removal experience. She uses the latest technology (IPL Photo Rejuvenation), makes you feel comfortable (even when you're not so clothed) and has catlike swiftness. She also does more than hair removal, offering microdermabrasion, facials and anti-aging skin care. Hairless, wrinkle-free and spic-n-span pores sound fine to us; at least the nonsurgical methods won't make your ears meet in the long run.
We would never, ever pick a best head shop. Drugs are bad, m'kay? What we come here for are the plentiful gag T-shirts, the comic bumper stickers, the incense. Not that we ever have a call to burn incense. What? You say they have water pipes, too? Hmmm. We thought all those fancy, colored glass sculptures were lamps. Sure are purty. Might have to pick up one of those some day.
Metro Retro is like a flashback. A good one--typewriters, Formica tables, vintage rags, Centipede board games and the best in midcentury Christmas décor when the season's right. Looking at something that may need a little cleanup? Owner Andrea Jennings can probably offer a few tips on re-covering or chrome polishing. She knows her stock better than any other owners specializing in Donna Reed-era collectibles (although Metro Retro does offer other selections from various decades). Walk in and ask. If they've got it, you'll love it. If they don't have it, don't worry, because you'll probably find something better waiting on the shelf. Want an example? We went trolling for a birthday present, looking for a specific action figure. What we got was something better, a figure that was indeed active: a Redd Foxx bobble-head doll. Oh, yeah.
Unfortunately, there remains an assumption, in this world struggling toward equality for all, that the ladies aren't as schooled on the secret world beneath the hood of an automobile. Sometimes, a mechanic here and there will try to finagle an unnecessary repair or two based on such assumptions. We believe such practices are a crock. The Zuhdi folk are all about our desire for fair car repairs and estimates, too. They don't mess around with tidbits and add-ons, they do the work in an incredibly timely manner and they are more than reasonable in price. We salute you, Zuhdi, for your nonprejudiced customer service and your quality of work for men and women alike.
The news was bad. Some faulty wiring had caused a fire that put Mister Tuxedo temporarily out of business in July. But nothing could stop the unflappable Harold Bell, owner, proprietor and grand master of the witty comeback, from reopening as soon as the smoke cleared. He secured a new space close to the old one and has plans of returning to the original storefront as soon as it can be repaired. What Mister Tuxedo offers are quality goods and dependable service. Unlike chain-store rentals, there is never any fear that you might come up a stud short, or that your cummerbund will reveal an unsightly guacamole stain from the previous renter. Whether it's a wedding, bar mitzvah, high school prom or spring formal for the SMU Greek set, Mister Tuxedo will continue to be the black-tie specialist in town--just as it's been for the past 40 years.
Truth is, it isn't new--and most of the books aren't. But for a new book-shopping experience, this is the place to try. "We're a nostalgic place," says Jim Parker, who owns the business with his wife, Dee. Remember reading Ernest Hemingway's In Our Time or Jack London's White Fang? You can find collectors' first editions, many of them signed by the author, along with autographed copies of favorites by Stephen King, Anne Rice, etc. The prices are a bit steep ($350 for a copy of Mark Twain's A Tramp Abroad), but browsing is encouraged and enjoyable.
Gorgeous terra-cotta pots from Italy and Greece, beautiful fired earth pots from Vietnam: Lemmon Avenue Pottery has always been a kind of mecca for the most discriminating potheads, potophiles, pot fans, or whatever you call them, in the entire Southwest.
This purveyor of chic duds and accessories for ladies and gents doesn't just dress an AARP associate in a vest and cap to mumble a "howdy" when you walk to the door. They follow up their greetings by asking if you might like a refreshing beverage to go with your shopping experience: a choice of Coke, Sprite or sparkling water in swift little bottles. We're waiting for them to discover those red Piper-Heidsieck minis. Champagne just makes hellos slide off the lips so much easier. It makes the shopping more dangerous, too.
We'd walked past it an untold number of times, never once stopping to look inside what appeared to be just another one of those annoying hippie stores that sells incense and plays crap music by Enya. The front windows of downtown's Musemart advertised "Organic Iced Lattes" and had some funky copper disc thing that obstructed the view of what we had originally thought to be either a 99-year-old yogi in downward dog or a gigantic rain stick. One day, though, while ignoring our duties back at the office, curiosity got the best of us, and we ventured inside. Our first impression of the place couldn't have been more off. The tiny shop, nestled between greasy spoons and a Korean beauty salon, is an absolute treasure trove of imported and rare art and lifestyle magazines, 50 cent snacks and a collection of vinyl records ranging from bluegrass to trip-hop, new wave to classical. We even came across an original LP of Elvis Costello's
My Aim is True. Not bad for a presumed annoying hippie store. Not bad at all.
This place closed recently, but we wanted to keep it in, because, well, quite honestly, no other bookstore in town so enchanted children. In addition to having a wonderful selection of books for the youngsters, owner Jennifer Anglin had the most customer-friendly place of business you're likely to ever encounter. The imaginative layout included a stage for such activities as the Polka Dot Theater where high school actors from Booker T. Washington regularly put on short plays and visiting authors read and discussed their books. Its demise is a sad day for tots who read.
Not only can you find every ointment, unguent, lotion, peel and organic skin- or hair-care concoction you'll need here, but the prices are usually lower than you can find at swankier spots. The really great thing is that there always seems to be a special going on. Whether it's a free this with your purchase or a free that done to you for coming in, we always feel pampered and prepared when we leave.
Take it from someone who recently had a very fruitless search for cool jeans: It's worth a trip to Jean Connection. Somehow, this shop on Northwest Highway manages to get the sweetest designer jeans before even the hipper-than-thou department stores. They know the trends before they reach the mainstream here, so if you're the kind who is serious about your denim, make the trip.
Emeralds to Coconuts, a hip little store with a funny name, offers women's fashions for young and old. While you won't necessarily find the latest trends here, you will find rack after rack of fun and stylish women's clothing, many of the items imported from faraway lands. Even the clearance rack at Emeralds to Coconuts has a lot to offer, such as a sequined rayon skirt from India remarkably priced at $18. And that's just one example. The incense-scented store also offers a variety of jewelry, accessories and gift items. But possibly the best part about shopping at Emeralds to Coconuts is the friendly service and welcoming atmosphere. No snotty salesgirls here. They even provide a complimentary gift bag and colored tissue paper for your gift items. And on one visit, there were free chocolates at the checkout counter. Could this shopping experience be any better?
Used to be this place had the market cornered--back before Borders stocked its walls with DVDs, back before Fry's ordered imports and sold them for cutout prices (maybe they just don't know what they have, but we do). With Movie Trading Company on the verge of selling out to Blockbuster--haven't heard otherwise, at least since we ran a news item on the proposed buyout--our love for this homegrown chain might diminish; we fear the corporate mentality, since we work for one ourselves. But till then, we love the MTC for three reasons: the nice-price used copies, which sell for several bucks cheaper than new discs; the neighborhood favorites section, always a blast at the Oak Lawn location; and the way you can rent before owning, without Blockbuster's late fees hanging over your head.
We love Good Records, with its yellow racks with colored light bulbs, in-store performances, magazine selection and barbecues, and we shop there a lot. But we're cheap bastards, and CD World appeals to this side of us. There are rows and rows of new and used--from Turbonegro to Justin Timberlake--and all the local music that's fit to print (and sometimes not) with cheap prices all around. Also, CD World is more likely to have something for those gotta-hear-it-now moments, and the knowledgeable staff will be happy--all right, maybe a little surly--to special-order it if you think the fever will stick. But don't expect live music, unless you count that guy who's singing along at one of the listening stations.
Like those outlet stores that sell overstocked shoes and underwear, only this store sells groceries. They offer great deals on name-brand food, from breakfast cereal to hot sauce. The store is still new and finding its way, so the stock is a little unpredictable. You probably couldn't do an entire grocery run here, but you can really save money on what you do find, all well within the expiration dates. Whole-bean coffee is half what it costs in regular supermarkets, for example.
We picked up an old friend at the airport recently. She married a high roller and moved from Dallas to Las Vegas. She's all tall and tan, strolling out of D-FW International Airport, sparkling with stunning silver jewelry, carrying a Louis Vuitton train case, with a Gucci bag hanging from her shoulder. "You look great!" we cried, then pointed to a particularly swell bangle bracelet on her right wrist. "Sam Moon, $7," she said, and she wouldn't start the evening's drinking or eating without a quick trip to Dallas' best import/knock-off store. Sam Moon recently moved to the new Sam Moon Center and filled up two big store-fronts with luggage, jewelry, purses and gift-y tchotchkes. We've never seen better--or cheaper--silver earrings, bracelets; better or cheaper watches; better or cheaper fake designer purses. We've never spent so much time and so little money for so much crap. Good crap.
Ask Robert anything. That's really all you need to know, but for the sake of being informative ourselves, we'll keep going. Pickerings will tell you what to plant and where, they'll design your flower bed and even plant it for you. They lay stones, landscape and guarantee their gorgeous assortment of plants. Need tools? Got 'em. Need decorative details? Got 'em. Need moral support because you suck at gardening and can even cause lucky bamboo to die? They'll give it to you. Pickerings has everything you need to get going in the garden, and you'll have a green thumb before you know it. But fair warning: They have a gift section that takes excessive willpower to get through without blowing your wad on a leaded stained-glass piece or an old metal horse feed bucket.
Because cigar smoking right now is about as hip as official Beanie Baby Club membership, you can actually get your hands on the best smokes from Don Diego, H. Upmann, Romeo y Julieta, Macanudo, Partagas, Hoyo de Monterrey and Punch without suffering from sticker shock. Montfort Cigars has a massive 600-square-foot walk-in humidor stocked with the best brands at terrific prices plus domestic and imported cigarettes and name-brand perfumes and colognes to stamp out the residual stogie stench pervading your clothes and hairpiece.
Vintage movie posters, placards and stills sit next to the latest-release materials in this quiet shop off Interstate 35. Stills and publicity shots are $4 for black-and-white and $5.50 for color, and poster prices run the gamut, offering an inexpensive way to build a shrine to the motion picture...or, in our case, the ultimate mystery man, Alfred Hitchcock. We found posters for
Vertigo, Rear Window, The Birds and others for (gasp!) less than $20. We also found the very rare and slightly expensive poster for
The Man Who Fell to Earth...totally worth some extra dollars for its pristine condition. The store offers some comics and a few collectibles, postcards and calendars and service from folks who know their film, and love it, too. They even helped us pick out Gary Cooper stuff to make into a scrapbook for our grandmother. They aren't devoted to only the mainstream and popular pictures in movie history. Think of an obscure film and, most likely, Remember When has something related to it. Now, who's the winner for Best Framing?
We'll never go digital; uploading JPGs to a hard drive is nowhere near as satisfying as going into a darkroom and losing yourself for hours in the magic of photo developing. Though Warehouse does offer prints and enlargements from digital files, the majority of products and services cater to film users. We can supply our 35mm, medium format and Polaroid cameras here with all the film we could ever want--we can even pick up a few cartridges of Super 8 for those retro home movies we love making. They also carry accessories, papers, chemicals and other nifty items like liquid emulsion, which allows you to make any surface--a brick, a plate, a cardboard box--into a photographic surface. All in all, you could outfit a modest photo studio and darkroom in one trip to Warehouse. So, whether you aspire to be the next Penn/Avedon/Leibovitz, or just enjoy shooting rolls of your dog in full military uniform, Warehouse Photographic has the hookup.
One might assume that calling a footwear store by a name like "Boot City" is a tall tale akin to the one about Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox. But Cavender's has more pairs of boots than some Texas towns have feet to fill them. The stock ranges from basic leather ropers, work boots and lace-ups to the high-end labels such as Lucchese, Tony Lama and Harley-Davidson. And the stock of exotic materials reads more like an endangered species list than an inventory account, with entries for elephant, kangaroo, gator, ostrich, rattlesnake, caiman, iguana, crocodile and European goat. With a wide range of styles and sizes to fit kids, women and men, Cavender's has boots to fit any pair of feet. Except, of course, Paul Bunyan's.
Two dozen roses for 20 bucks is a helluva deal these days, but somehow this no-frills operation manages it. Most of the time. Prices go up on Valentine's Day, Mother's Day and other occasions, but bargains are still available for most birthdays and anniversaries as well as those crucial "apology occasions" that often precede makeup sex. Your Florist opened in 1995 in a converted garage two blocks from its new expanded location. According to staffer Lisa Hill, the store is open 365 days a year and imports most of its stock daily from Holland, South America and California. Hill says the clientele for the bargain roses includes a cross section of the public, "from kids and blue-collar workers to some of the richest, cheapest people in Highland Park." For some crazy reason, the shop is also a mainstay for scavenger hunts. Hill reports that "about twice a month, people show up in limos to pick up a rose and a clue to their next destination."
The doctor has the cure for your symptoms. Whether you're in the doghouse or just wanna be someone's dog, Dr. Delphinium has a prescription for you. And, seriously, if you drop $150 on one of the larger designs, you'd better get some action either way. From fresh red roses in classic vases to contemporary exotic blends in tall glass cylinders and every space in between, this floral-design studio can fit any occasion. There are even dried flower arrangements, door wreaths and plant baskets. Just don't ask for the fern, carnation and baby's breath combo. Trust us. That's like putting a Band-Aid on a bullet wound. Spring for the Birds of Paradise instead.
Hey, these hepcats win every year, so you should know the drill by now. Rob will grant all your rockabilly, pompadour and buzz-cut needs. If you're in a band, go here. If you're ugly, go here. If you're not sure if you're in a band or ugly, you are high, so go here. You won't know the difference, but the ladies will. Rob does magic with female mops as well.
Pez is no longer just that cheap toy with the stale candy you buy to keep the kids quiet in the supermarket. There are TV-show-character Pez, stuffed-animal Pez, automobile Pez, holiday Pez, mini-Pez and more. And at Froggie's, you can fill your Pez habit with Pez T-shirts, Pez magnets and Pez buttons, including a line of items sporting the phrase, "You're not famous until they put your head on a Pez dispenser." There's even a personal collection of Pez dispensers behind the counter.
The ladies know how important a good eyebrow waxing is and that some people are better at it than others. But after the first episode of
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy ran, the hetero dudes realized that it's a good idea to get rid of the monobrow look. For $10, the good people at CSSS will give you a top-notch waxing without making you feel as though you're in some stuck-up Uptown spa. If you're raising an eyebrow at us, stop it. We know what's good for you. Go and have your hair ripped off and tell us how good it feels, how good you look.
Actually, "Best Pan-sexual Erotica (leather and gadgets)" would be a more accurate label for Shades of Grey, a fetishist's dream of a store even though it sacrifices snazzy décor in favor of clutter--the better to stock more stuff to titillate you with, my dear. Find racks and racks of sexy leather clothes--some vinyl, too--for men and women. The selection is the best, and custom leatherwork is available also. The store staff is friendly and more knowledgeable than we are about fetish-oriented apparati. We didn't realize, for example, that you could buy a gizmo that hooks to your shower head for full colonic cleansing and that cleanliness might not be your sole motivation. Shades of Grey has a good variety of body jewelry and is proud of its multisexual orientation. There's a small satellite store inside the Dallas Eagle, our city's highly regarded men's leather fetish bar off Inwood Road.
Our favorite Emeralds to Coconuts find is a dainty beaded bracelet. We liked it so much we went back for more to rebead into other objects. Each bead has a face painted on it, and, as in real life, each face is different and is supposed to reflect a different personality and emotion. Unlike real life, all of them are really pretty. Stupid superficial bracelets. But if you like your faces not so perfect, Emeralds to Coconuts also carries masks to hang on your wall. Next time you're accused of being two-faced, just say, "If you only knew."
Clothes confound us. We be husky, and it is not easy to find nice clothes that make a husky man look good, unless you pay ridiculous prices. Then a friend told us about Todd Shevlin, who, since 1995, has owned, in a gentle fashion, the fashion store known as Gently Owned Men's Consignery, in Far North Dallas. (He recently opened a second store in Oak Lawn.) We arrived in flip-flops and a Green Lantern T-shirt and left in a $500 pair of slacks that cost us $99. Then we realized why the rich always look so nice. (Fabric that makes our huge ass disappear is magic, and magic pants are worth every cent.) Gentle owner Shevlin says he offers "the finest in men's resale...all our stuff is less than 2 years old, and it's in great, excellent or mint condition." GOMC sells and buys everything but underwear and socks; it even carries new inventory at 30 to 50 percent off retail. They carry everything from Armani to Hugo Boss. (We nabbed a new-inventory, Italian-made suit for about $400.) If you want to sell your slick duds, all consignment contracts are 90-day deals; the sale is split 50-50. You can use your profits to buy some nice threads from Todd. See how that works?
Run by two Italian-American guys, third-generation owners; their mama makes the meatballs in the back. They make their own Italian sausage--hot, mild or how you like it. The wine selection is all Italian, all good and two bucks cheaper per bottle than the high-rent places. Every Italian condiment you can think of. People don't just come here from Plano. They don't just come here from Tyler. They come from as far away as Oklahoma City! You know why? Because they're New Yorkers, from Brooklyn and the Bronx, in particular, and they are starved for a grubby little joint with worn-out fixtures, homeless people out front and really, really great Italian groceries.
When you hit your early to mid-30s, there are constant reminders that you're not 21 anymore. These include, but are not limited to, your waistline, your hairline, your preference for talk radio, your tendency to be offended by behavior you used to find hysterical and your reluctance to order more than six tacos at Taco Bell. But if you really want to feel AARP-ed out, creaky-kneed and cantankerously old, try shopping at Urban Outfitters. First of all, the sizes are all wrong. If you wear a medium, buy an XL there, because the kids are way skinny these days and like their clothes form-fitting. Also, be prepared to be mocked if you try to update your wardrobe and, say, you buy the male Capri pants because they look hip to you. Your poker buddies will not understand. Third, just take a look around. Not one of the girls and boys you see plunking down platinum cards looks older than 14, yet every one of them could buy and sell your ass.
Western Warehouse has everything you'd expect: boots, hats, belts and belt buckles, jeans, boots, those collarless shirts Garth Brooks favored for a while and the loud, starched-stiff shirts loved by Brooks and Dunn. But it also has tiny Wranglers for mini-cowboys and cowgirls, tank tops and slogan tees for teen rodeo queens, Western-style tuxedo jackets and those polyester pants the indie-rock boys wear with their Converses. Not to mention the racks and racks of jeans and one of the largest selections of Levis, with stacks of styles and colors in dozens of sizes. The store--a warehouse in stature not just name--suits more styles than Billy Bob's casual. Even we found a shirt (with piping and pearl snaps, no less), which was about as likely as LeAnn Rimes recording an album to outsell Blue.
OK, so it's more than "health food," but then that just shouldn't count against it. Our weekend ritual now consists of: Wake up at 8:30 (a.m., that is), throw on some shorts (our own, someone else's, whatever), get into the car and get to Central Market before the doors part at 9, thus allowing in the millions (OK, dozens) who line up to take control of the 50,000-square-foot store before it's overrun with the heathens. We'll admit it: We're foodies, though we so loathe the term (don't even know what it means, actually); we're addicts, freaks, junkies for what the H-E-B folks are pushing. We'll spend an hour that turns into two, an afternoon that turns into a weekend in this place, and still we'll never uncover all it has to offer; we return for what we need, never stopping to ponder there are millions of items we don't need but merely crave (say, the tub of roasted garlic cloves for sale in the to-go area; man, our breath stinks this weekend). Some suggestions: the fresh Southwestern tortillas just off the grill, the black-pepper-marinated olives, the smoked cheddar cheeses, the French hams in the deli area, the Russian rye breads, the prosciutto-and-pepper baguette, the Australian beer, the star fruit, the dried peppers that sell for $50 a pound (all you need is but a few cents' worth), the champagne grapes, the live oysters and clams, the breakfast sausage, the...mmmmmmm, sausage. For once, an ad campaign lives up to its claims: Tom Thumb and Whole Foods are grocery stores; this is heaven, paradise, nirvana. And did we mention the cooking classes, the guest chefs (Naked and otherwise), the tours, the private meeting rooms, the On the Run fun that makes Eatzi's look like, well, Marty's? No? We meant to, but our mouths were stuffed with blue crab claws and tapenade; sorry 'bout that.
The price of fashion takes its toll in many ways other than the slimming of that designer pocketbook of yours. "Chic" eternally revolves and recycles in a vicious, cannibalistic circle, and the constant struggle to remain in The Now seems all but insurmountable when everything ends up being (or actually strives to be)
so five-minutes-ago. Short of taking a not-so-scenic thrift-store tour of North Texas--one that's decidedly more famine than feast--the options for the frugal fashionista have been limited, but the chain known as Buffalo Exchange succeeds in both remaking and remodeling even the most discriminating wardrobes. Set up in much the same way as a used record or book shop, BE specializes in the buy/sell/trade of threads that have worn out their welcome, without the hassle of sifting through shop-class ashtrays and incomplete
Sesame Street puzzles. Be it the latest trends in street wear, a reinforcement of the tried and true or the funkiest of vintage statements, the clean Greenville Avenue outlet has a consistently organized and shifting stock, and it's quickly become an essential weekend stop.
If you can't afford that summer getaway you've been dreaming about and are weary of grilling chicken and burgers, plan something different after a visit to a grocery that takes you to another world. You can shop for everything from pork ears to chicken feet, pickled cabbage to duck eggs. The seafood selection is remarkable (tilapia, milkfish, China grouper and squid). Might want to take home some Wei-Chaun dumplings for the right appetizer and plan to spend time looking over the wide variety of exotic spices (ever try dried lily flower?) and teas. Talk about fun shopping. They're open daily from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m.
To call David Broussard an artist in no way overstates the obvious. Just look around his shop high atop Central Expressway, adjoining the Premier Club. He is a sculptor who prefers working in steel, and his artwork--much of it encompassing religious themes--adorns the shop walls. He plays a spirited bass guitar and writes his own songs, the latest of which can be heard on the headsets he will gladly apply before or after shampooing. His haircuts are as skilled as his art: precise, well-designed and well-executed. Although he works on men, women flock to his scissors, and he will trim the children of his customers for the asking. They sense they are safe in his hands, although they are not quite sure what large metallic crosses and stars of David are doing in a hair salon.
If you want to buy garden tools that will last, Smith & Hawken has what you need. Of course, you'll need to bring a lot of money, but the investment will provide perennial returns. The Uptown store carries everything a gardener needs, from hand rakes and soil scoops to bulb planters and precision weeders. Forget what you planted last spring? No problem. Smith & Hawken also sells zinc plant markers, among other hard-to-find accessories. When you're done toiling in the fields, nothing relaxes quite like the store's wide selection of fine teak chairs and chaises.
During a serious costume crisis, we visited the Dallas Costume Shoppe. We got great help and quite a bit of kitty lovin'. Skutr, a beautiful mix who looks part siamese and part short-haired Himalayan, greeted us at the door with a meow and a stretch. He accompanied us on our wig hunt, cutting figure eights through our legs and pawing for a scratch of the ears. The human assistance was quick and thorough, solving our costume woes, but it was Skutr who made us wish we had 10 more characters to dress, just so we could spend the day with the soft little affection-giver. Skutr is a master of promotions, making us determined to call again on the feline-friendly costume shop.
With the holidays quickly approaching (by which we mean our birthday), you might wanna stop by the Ridge--the self-proclaimed "home décor and craft marketplace," which just sends a tingle up the spines of men everywhere--to load up on immortal wreaths and other flowers made of silk and synthetic material. From pottery to potpourri, from party goods to pictures and posters (for frames and, yes, you sad souls without family photos to fill them), from candles to curtains, this chain store has generous amounts of decently priced crap to make any dorm room or any mansion feel like Martha Stewart went hog-wild while blindfolded. And we mean that as a compliment: When we're not tricking up our house with the latest Todd Oldham trinket from Target, we're at Garden Ridge, wondering how we spent $124 on candles that smell like roses and feet.
Put those hands up for the team of experts that can mend them like no one else. Doctors David Zehr, Arnold DiBella and Paul Rosco Ellis III compose said team, and it seems there's nothing they can't hand-le (sorry about that, but we just had to). These talented doctors/surgeons tackle trauma, sports injuries, pinched nerves, wrist injuries, vascular and nerve injuries, amputations, tumors and arthritis. And we thought we did a lot in a day. The special thing about these guys (Dr. DiBella is truly outstanding in this area) is that they explain things to patients until they understand. There's no quick diagnosis and exit, leaving the nurse to take over. The doctors take the time to show models, diagrams and demonstrations of injuries and are completely up front about what it will take to fix the problem. With parts as important to daily life as hands, that frankness and understanding are invaluable.
Usually, in Best of Dallas, we tell you where to find the good deals. But sometimes we just gotta tell you, look, these folks are the best, but it's gonna cost you. Pay it. It's worth it. That's the case with Silks Abloom. They're not the cheapest in town--far from it. But if you want a distinctive, stunning faux flower arrangement or greenery for your house, it's hard to do better than these folks. So don't blame us when you get the credit card bill, but do give us credit when your purchase earns you ooohs and aaahs.
Even drunk, we would never ever belt out a rendition of Tom Jones' "Delilah" in public. (What we do in the privacy of our own shower is none of your business.) But it's nice to know that if we wanted to (and to be honest, we sorta do), we could thrill--or induce vomiting among--the lovely birds in an audience. All we would need is a stop at this Valley View mall shop, which sells and rents karaoke machines, mixing boards and microphones, along with the largest selection of karaoke-ready songs in Texas--somewhere between 70,000 and 100,000 titles. They even provide DJs and setups for parties, wedding receptions and, we suppose, really rockin' wakes. If you think that karaoke died sometime about the era of the first Bush administration, check out the store's Web site at www.spotlightonkaraoke.com to see the huge variety of equipment available. Someone, somewhere is into this, so there may yet be hope for our lounge-act dreams.
Rumor has it our couch came from the set of Good Morning, Texas, and, yeah, it took awhile to get those Sams stains out; someone really should Scotchguard that dude. But, nonetheless, it was one hell of a bargain--something like $300, when it would have cost us $1,000, more or less (more, likely). And we picked it, and the rest of our house's furnishings, up at the Gabberts outlet on Furniture Row near LBJ Freeway and Midway Road. This place is a mecca for high-quality merch at low, low prices--leather couches at pennies on the dollar (OK, quarters on the dollar, but whatever), recliners so cheap you can rest a little easier, armoires you can afford without knocking over an armored car. Some of this stuff deserves to be dirt cheap--some looks as though it came from the Bradys' house in 1971--but even then, better retro "kitsch" than au courant broke, we say. Nice selection of rugs, too, as well as other stuff with which to stuff your house. Or apartment. Or trailer home. Or underpass.
Gotta love the work shirt. More specifically, we love the random name patches that adorn the work shirt. Vintage or new, the shirt should fit, but that's all we really require of it. It is, after all, all in the name. Petey, Mike, Renaldo, Tito, Leroy, Jessie, Martha. We found all of those and more at the little hole in the wall called Hollywood Five & Dime, located a few doors down from Bar of Soap on Parry Avenue. We've used them for place settings, party favors, gag gifts and on our clothing. While there, check out the teen pulp memorabilia, vintage-style sundresses and creeper shoes. The store holds enticements for those into tiki, rockabilly and punk (we still want those Sex Pistols magnets). But back to the patch. If you were born with a name you've struggled to hide for years, stop by Hollywood and pick out a new one to test out. After all, a seam ripper is a lot cheaper than a legal fee for the mutation of your moniker.
This one is as easy as it gets, since it appeals to the smallest subgroup out there: gays and lesbians who read comic books. Not too many people cater to that particular market. But Richard and the rest of the crew at Zeus not only do just that, they do it in style, with regular get-togethers at neighboring Mexican restaurant Ciudad for rainbow-flag readers. Both places work fine on their own (Zeus is one of the best comics shops in town, especially for people just getting into reading them; Ciudad's food is flip-out fantastic), but they're even better together.
We're scared of many things, such as mosquitoes (West Nile!), snakes (poison!) and monkeys (the Marburg monkey virus, which for some reason we fear more than its well-known sister virus, Ebola!). We're also queasy about the sun and its link to skin cancer, which is why we are pasty and have no luck with the ladies. That's why we plan to visit Planet Tan and do what our good friend did: get misted. For the person who needs to be caramelized, Planet Tan can apply the UV-free Mist-On Tan product. It gives you a sweet golden-brown tone for up to a week, which is all the time we need to find a soul mate. The procedure is complete in less time than it takes to disrobe, so if you've got a big event coming up, or if you just need to even out your own tan, stop by a day or two before you need to wear that revealing outfit and do what we light-fearing folk do: Buy yourself some good looks.
We heard about one mom who was so desperate to cut her 2-year-old's hair that she took the scissors to him while he was asleep. Given that she wasn't a trained professional, and it was dark, and half the kid's hair was under his head pressed against the mattress, the result wasn't so great. We're not sure what happened after that, but someone saw a woman with a hair-impaired toddler buying knit caps at Baby Gap. Too bad she hadn't heard of Kids Kutz, started by two single moms who knew a thing or two about desperation themselves. Jackie Ricks, a licensed cosmetologist, and Martha Rehfeldt, a licensed barber/stylist, found themselves out of work in 1998 when Dallas' Little Things went out of business and their children's hair gig there was gone forever. Necessity being the mother of invention, Ricks and Rehfeldt opened their own place. Even if your kiddo isn't afraid of the haircut experience, there is still the "wriggle" factor to consider. Ricks and Rehfeldt put their moms' ingenuity to work with their scissors skills, providing elephant and tiger chairs for their small clients, and movies. "We instinctively feel the kids out," Rehfeldt says, "and decide how best to approach each one. We see the brave and boisterous, and the shy and scared. We've never had a bad experience yet." Word-of-mouth gets Kids Kutz most of its clients, and even some of PBS'
Barney kids get coiffed there. Rehfeldt says the trend among 6- to 10-year-olds is the Harry Potter cut for boys, and the Olsen twins for girls. Kids Kutz has a regular chair for harried moms and dads who make the trip to Euless for the kids but need a quick trim while they're there.
You won't find batteries, phone cards and store-brand toothbrushes lining the counters of Restoration Hardware. The stuff you will find isn't that necessary, but it is cuter and much more expensive. Around the cash registers are tubs and hangers full of gadgets, widgets and other unneeded items you'll decide to take home while waiting to check out, such as magnets made from milk jar lids and old dice and key-chain magnifying glasses and compasses.
We know you think of it as a women's shoe store, but hear us out. We recently held a garage sale. One couple made $300-plus. We saw this couple the next day. We asked them what they were going to do with their money. "We've already been to DSW Show Warehouse!" they exclaimed. Now, women who know their designer labels and who frequent this foot haven already know how great the place is, but they have super deals for men, too. Sure, you can go get your Kenneth Coles at department-store prices, but DSW is legendary for its top-name brands at below-reasonable prices. If you've got some found money, or even if you've got some cash you should spend on the water bill, consider making the trip to Lewisville. You'll go head over heels.
The grocer carries all sorts of imported fresh and canned goods suited to the discerning cook of all sorts of Middle Eastern fare. That's right, all sorta good stuff for all sorta people. Which, admit it, is shocking. Not only is the bread the freshest, softest, tastiest Middle Eastern breadlike stuff you're likely to find (chain grocery store pita pocket bread need not apply), but the loaves are full size, just like they are in Lebanon. The store sells ingredients for old standards like hummus and rare spices suited to more exotic Middle Eastern dishes, Middle Eastern candy, chewing gum and even really good pickles imported from Lebanon. We would take the time to learn the names of these items, but we're too busy scarfing.
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...)
This store in the Lakewood shopping area has everything one needs to get vintage looks for a multitude of eras. There are plates like June Cleaver would have used to serve fresh-baked cookies to Wally and the Beav, lace-up go-go boots like Laverne and Shirley might have tried and sofas like Richie Cunningham and the gang would have sat on while getting chick advice from The Fonz. Then there's the actual TV memorabilia such as metal lunch boxes bearing the cartoon or photograph likenesses of small-screen stars and items such as models of The Monkees' souped-up convertible. In addition, glass cases hold smaller and more valuable items such as Beatlemania buttons and mint-condition toys. Then there's the stuff TV never showed: vintage "adult" novelties.
Men shop for shoes the opposite of women: the most shoes possible from the fewest possible stores. To get it all done in one stop go straight to Nordstrom at the Galleria. The sandal selection alone is daunting--including Mephisto and Ecco--but the Oxfords go on forever: Nordstrom's store brand, Tommy Bahama, Kenneth Cole Reaction, Cole Haan, Allen-Edmonds and many more. This is it, this is everything.
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.
Say you're, oh, 28 years old, and you still love you some comic books. Your wife? She's never read them, but she likes Barbie dolls. That's how you get her into Zeus Comics, where even the straightest man will be fairly dazzled by the selection of Barbies at the back of the store. That's how we did it, at least. Once there, she discovered the greatness (and, well, geekiness) that is the comic book, and now she wants to go more than we do. Especially since her favorite character, Spider-Man, is all over the place and Zeus is all over it, with more Spidey-related items than a Stan Lee garage sale. That's just for a start: They have everything you want, and plenty of things you didn't know you needed. You're gonna need an entire afternoon. While you're there, ask the staff the name of the cop character in McDonaldland. No, not Mayor McCheese. And get back to us, because it's been killing us.
What with the competition of Amazon.com, peddling books out of retail outlets is becoming a risky business. That explains the arrival of pricey coffee drinks, greeting cards and various doodads that most bookstores now hawk. But for those literary types who still enjoy perusing the aisles in person, Borders offers the widest selection of books in town. That's it. End of story.
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 small spiritual/jewelry store offers an affordable selection of therapeutic quartz pyramids. If feeling ill, soak a clear one in a glass of water overnight and drink the water in the morning. Do the same with a blue pyramid if feeling tense and a red pyramid if looking for love. For financial prosperity, pray or meditate in the presence of the clear pyramid with little coins inside.
There they were, back when they were still a headline-making couple. Gwyneth Paltrow, dressed in yoga-class togs, and Luke Wilson, squinty and gorgeous, pushing a shopping cart a deux around the aisles just like regular folk. What'd they buy? We peeked. Chips, cookies, imported beer. Real stuff. He paid. He carried the bags to the SUV. She beamed at him with that thousand-watt smile. And not a paparazzo in sight. Golly. Cool or what? Few days later, same Whole Foods Market. Singer-actress Erykah Badu, doing some shopping, notices a shelf of painted lunch boxes. The designs strike her as a tad racist. She marches up to the front desk and lets the manager know her objections. She draws a small crowd, who support her tiny tirade. Ah, the plum little dramas one stumbles upon when all one needs is a pound of organic prunes.
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.
We keep trying out other shops, but we always find ourselves back at Southwest Gallery when we have an important framing project. The reason is simple: The work they do is impeccable. From your end, the most difficult thing about framing is deciding what frame to choose. That's the second area where Southwest Gallery shines: Its staff offers excellent direction in helping you navigate the store's wide selection of frames, making suggestions based on what works best for the art rather than what makes them the most money.
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?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. You Linux users and hard-core Wintel folk are muttering obscenities about what a bunch of techno-idiots we are. You computer studs demand a store that sells the raw materials needed to etch your own circuit boards with your own hands. This store is in a
mall for God's sake. You need raw computing
power. So what if your machines look like an icebox, though not quite as sexy? Who cares? A large part of the population--those who don't think jumpsuits, white socks with sandals and ZZ Top beards are smokin'--that's who. Style counts, and the Apple Store at Willow Bend mall is the house of style for personal computers. Drenched in blond woods, white walls and mod lighting, the store is a grown-up playground stocked with the latest, hippest iPods, gooseneck iMacs, digital cameras and clear, molded plastic surround-sound speakers. Think
The Jetsons, as directed by Ridley Scott. Sure, you won't find all the parts you need to build your own computer from scratch, and maybe the Apples won't play all the latest games, but what would you rather be, cool or functional?
Say, for instance, you are on your way to visit someone in the hospital, you must get there before visiting hours are over and you need a gift. (Not that we've ever procrastinated in such a way.) Get thee to Urban Flowers. Not only are the arrangements absolutely stunning, but the arrangements can be created according to your budget and still be absolutely stunning. The shop also offers unique handmade cards and assorted gifts and the best service you can ask for. The owner even offers that you can call on your way there and tell him what you need and he'll have it ready and waiting.
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.
For discount shoppers, the sign on the front of 75% Off Books probably says all it needs to say: Nothing Over $5. And it's no lie, no come-on that's proved false once you get inside. Everything in this place is 75 to 90 percent off the original price, and nothing costs more than $5. The books are all new, too, so there's no yellowed pages or musty smells wafting about. 75% Off Books buys its stock mostly as truckloads of assorted books from publishers. They're either overstock, samples left over from trade shows or books that have been slightly damaged in shipping. So it's not the place to go when you're looking for a specific title, but if you have the time, scour the tables at 75% Off Books; you might discover an armload of gems you didn't even know you needed. The store is also an excellent choice for parents and teachers. Each of the Dallas-area locations has up to 500 titles for children and young adults, and they both accept school district purchase orders. New titles arrive every week, so if you don't find anything on your first visit, keep looking; a second go-round might make all the difference.
Hang out in the metro music-scene nightlife long enough, and you'll realize one thing. It
feels like there's just as many struggling musicians in the city as there are peeps in China's army. "Feel" is the key word, word. Where is the coolest place shaggy-haired melody makers can find some cash flow to go along with sudden inspiration? We're assuming a gig at Guitar Center. There's nowhere else drummers get a head at cost and guitarists may play with more bodies than fingers know what to do with. For musicians cool enough to embrace a setting full of instruments as a way to maintain a lifestyle, Guitar Center is a home away from home. Guess that applies to those other musicians, too, plucking away in offices full of every instrument known to mankind besides the musical ones. Or for people new to instruments who just have an urge to play one. OK, we admit it, Guitar Center is for everyone. "Stairway to Heaven" riffs or unknown musical masterpieces, they'll let you play; maybe you'll like it enough to pay, and since the folks answering your questions know a thing or two about the craft, you're in good hands.
These two family-run stores share the same small Oak Cliff space. Wedding and quinceañeras (15th-birthday celebration) dresses line one side, cowboy boots and hats the other. Needless to say, the quality of customer service is much higher here than in a giant, impersonal department store.
So you think you want a purebred pup, something warm and snuggly that reminds you of Christmas. Well, think again. The majority of puppies are given away or abandoned within the first year of pet ownership. They require more time, effort, love and scooped poop than their new owners are willing to give. That's where rescue organizations like Golden Retriever Rescue of North Texas come in. GRRN takes strays, throwaways and giveaways--goldens only--and offers them a safe haven, a foster home where their needs--medical and emotional--can be assessed. The volunteer organization then rigorously screens future owners so that a dog that has survived one mistake won't have to be subjected to another. In 2001, GRRN rescued 160 dogs, but the new owners also find a home as well. The organization becomes a virtual online community, offering advice, guidance and expertise that enhance the chance its placements will succeed.
Pair O'Dice is our best because we trust them with our own bodies. It's almost the official tattoo parlor of the Observer staff. We go here; we bring our friends. We tell strangers to come here when we find them gawking at us in line at the grocery store. Get the hint? Come here. To us, trust is a key element in tattooing. You're paying someone to permanently scar your body. And the folks at Pair O'Dice can do that. Lots of other people can, too. But here you'll feel at home, always have a say in what they're doing and never feel intimidated. If you look nervous, you'll get teased...and possibly placed in a headlock. No, really, it helps. In addition to the artistry of Richard Stell, Deb Brody, Josh Robinson, J.P. Morin and Casey Cokrlic, there is also plenty of wacky stuff on the walls and loud tunes on the stereo to keep you distracted.
Big, bright, sparkly clean, lots of pumps, with beautiful cashiers and friendly service, yada yada--that's not why this is the best pit stop. It's the best for one simple reason: The owner is oddly obsessed with selling the coldest, cheapest beer in Dallas. The beer is already chilled to 36 degrees. As Best of Dallas was going to press, Lakewood Mobil was undergoing major reconstruction to create a special "ice-cave" at the back, where the beer will be chilled to 26 degrees--still liquid, but the bottles might freeze to your fingers. They sell all the hard-to-get cigarettes--Esmir Stingers, Kents, Dunhills--and they have a pretty decent wine selection, too. Not bad for a Mobil, eh?
The last time somebody told us to "Bring gloves and a good attitude, be sweet and we'll help you," we were trying out a trendy sex therapist near Parkland hospital. When Orr-Reed CEO John Hargrove says it, he means something completely different. Since 1946, Orr-Reed has been in the demolition business, tearing away cabinets, moldings, mantel pieces and cornices from some of the formerly finest old homes in North Texas. They schlep it all back and stack it up and sell it from their 5-acre site near downtown. Hargrove says they have everything, and they don't charge antique-store prices, because they don't really spend a lot of time cleaning up the stuff or sorting it. Hence, the gloves and the good-hunting attitude; and, hence, the bargains. Orr-Reed reclaims old heart pine and other hardwood lumbers some customers use to build furniture or create hardwood floors. Hargrove says they do custom-fabrication work, too; but we just like the architectural junk and the thrill of the hunt.
If you are just looking to brighten up the house, or a routine stay-at-home meal, there's nothing wrong with picking up flowers at your local supermarket. Nowadays, even Minyard sells some bouquets that'll bring a little sunshine indoors without breaking the pocketbook. But if you are throwing a dinner party or, more stressful yet, trying to impress a date, the arrangements designed at Village Garden & Gallery will guarantee success. This store, located in the new West Village shopping center, goes far beyond the standard dozen roses in a cheap glass vase to creating true works of floral art, exotically arranged in unique pots and vases.
Truth is, the term "belly dancing" is a bit of a misnomer. The traditional dance moves actually give the knees and lower back a workout, not the abdominals. Just ask the lovely ladies you'll find at Egypt World, which houses a diverse supply of belly-dancing gear. In addition to the rookie purchases of silky veils and hip sashes covered in bells or small metal coins, there are also dresses, pants (think
I Dream of Jeannie), skirts, bra tops and a wide range of things that go jingle-jingle-jingle when you go shake-shake-shake, including belts, bracelets, anklets and headpieces.
Top-quality dealers all over the country ship their best wares to Ralph Willard's wonderfully eclectic Tower Antique Show. In its ninth year, the Tower show typically offers authentic antiques (no copies allowed) from 50 to 300 years old. Expect lots of decorative and garden stuff, maybe a fifth of the furniture primitive, a fifth ultra-sophisticated, the rest somewhere in between. Everything in this show is interesting just to look at, let alone buy. It's so much fun, the Tower Antique Show is even a good date. Call for next show date and times.
The rule is don't go to a stylist with bad hair. We say don't trust a piercer who doesn't have any piercings. That's definitely not a problem at Skin & Bones, but that's not the only reason to choose this place. It's clean. The prices are fair. And even if the piercing artists aren't sporting the style you want, they can tell you about it or possibly even show you on the gray foam rubber models of body parts. Never seen a female genital piercing? Well, here's the place to see one without having to tip a dancer or feeling (too) embarrassed. It's right there in the case near the candy-colored navel rings and large-gauge ear jewelry.
Deep down, in some part of our aging brain, the old person we're rapidly becoming shakes his head and wonders, "What is this world coming to when teen-agers feel they need a spa?" Of course, in some other part not quite so deep, we're humming "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" and thinking this is just a fine idea. Apparently, so do the youngsters themselves. This spacious spa in a Plano shopping center offers a full salon, makeovers, makeup instruction and massages, all geared to the target audience of Seventeen magazine, which has a licensing agreement for the name. (The Plano location is the first of 36 planned.) Why would a young person need a facial or massage? Acne, for one, we suppose, but teens also face an inordinate amount of stress, hence the popularity of massages. The spa also offers services to boys, though, by gum, in our day no self-respecting boy...oh, never mind. We're old. If you're not, and you have a sense of style or need help in how to apply glitter makeup, this might be the place for you. They also offer nifty gift cards.
When faced with finding a new hairstylist, panic undoubtedly ensues. The hair is, after all, a key detail in one's look and personal style. More than a year ago, Roman filled in when our regular stylist was out. He fashioned a seductive, flirty 'do that we coveted. But when our pocketbook was padded enough to allow for a little pampering, we couldn't find him at the old salon. We called everyone we knew who could have information, searched the Web and finally resorted to driving in the general area where one tip placed him. Yes, he's
that good. After years of botched haircuts, there were only two people we allowed to come within feet of our hair, and with one now retired, Roman's our guy. Get a cut and color (say goodbye to irritating multiple appointments) in a comfy space from a stylist who makes each customer feel like the only customer. His credentials include photo shoots with Kristin Davis and models of the highest caliber...and we feel like one after he's worked his magic. Guys: One male staffer said Roman worked wonders on his unruly hair, too.
Whatever your video needs, Premiere will, 99 times out of 100, be able to fill them. Want something vintage and foreign, something out-of-print, something not even available yet? Call Premiere. Want something brand-new with Ashton Kutcher? Call Premiere. (But why would you even want to watch such a thing?) Want something from Europe or Asia that hasn't even been released in the States yet or only hit theaters recently--like, oh, 28 Days Later with that alternate ending? Really, call Premiere. Premiere has everything and then some, including those multiregion DVD players, for rent or purchase, that allow you to watch copies of BBC shows you've never heard of and Thai movies you'll never know about unless you ask the staff to suggest something new and cool. So let there be no misunderstanding: Call Premiere.
This tiny shop on the trendy Knox-Henderson strip is bursting with vintage and costume items (both old and new) at not-too-shabby prices. One staffer assembled an entire '80s outfit here--from Cyndi Lauper's tutu to Madonna-style fingerless gloves--in less than an hour. We were also impressed by a cap made entirely of flattened Coke cans and a glow-in-the-dark rosary. But they don't limit themselves to just clothing, shoes and accessories; other notable finds include a Kodak Brownie camera and nude women painted on black velvet. Every corner of the store is crammed with vintage goodies, including the walls and ceilings, so it may take a little patience, but there are treasures to be had. Remarkably, proprietors Debbie and Leslie seem to keep the entire inventory in their heads--useful when you just can't find that perfect mod halter-top.
The Labyrinth, located appropriately on Bell Street, is also next to Shake-Rag, the highest-priced musical junk store that exists in the South. So when you pull up to the quaint purple house decked out in wind chimes, don't hold the eyesore next door against them. You may enter to buy incense for your, um, extracurricular activities, or maybe you need some homemade bath salts for a Sunday soak. Regardless, Mary Jane will greet you with an honest smile when she asks your name. Come around enough times, and she won't allow your departure without a hug. OK, you're not the "getting hugged" type, or "being spiritual" type, or "connecting to the higher planes" type. For those readers
who are into the hokey-pokey hocus pocus (we know you're out there), this is the place to get all kinds of goods, including books, candles, stones, herbs, salts and, of course, the best darn incense.
It's depressing to note how the classic Slinky spring toy has degenerated into a column of plastic rings: Plastic just doesn't scale stairs or chase cats as well as shiny metal. Relive your Slinky jubilations at Froggie's. They stock a Slinky cornucopia including the original Slinky, the Super Slinky, Slinky Jr. and the Slinky Dog from Toy Story. Froggie's even has a Slinky watch that, with a touch of a button, plays the Slinky jingle while a Slinky walks across the watch face. And don't think Slinkys represent the entire pinnacle of must-have novelties. Because Froggie's also stocks Andy Warhol dolls dressed in leather jackets and Campbell Soup T-shirts and a Spam puzzle that comes in a can. No watch that plays the Monty Python Spam song, though. Yet.
When a friend is getting married, the hassles abound, especially for the women. First, there's the hideous bridesmaid dress that costs way too much. Then there are the dyeable shoes to match the hideous dress you will never wear again. And then it's bridal showers and engagement brunches and bridesmaids luncheons, and the list goes on. But there is one part of the wedding extravaganza that's fun for all: the bachelorette party. And Just For Play has what you need to get this party started. There's all kinds of fun stuff, from tame to raunchy, depending on how crazy your particular bride friend is willing to get. And in case you missed the lingerie shower, Just For Play has plenty of that, too. Their Playboy line offers a variety of lingerie items that are cute, fun and sexy all at the same time. Oh, yeah, Just For Play probably has stuff for bachelor parties, too. But don't strippers usually bring their own supplies?
Ever wonder what happened to those rockin' concert T-shirts your older brother/cool uncle/baby sitter wore? We're talking Styx, Journey, KISS, Foreigner, Pink Floyd. Well, they're at Pandemonium in near-mint condition. Hell, even your little sister's New Kids on the Block and Tommy Page shirts are here, though it would take some balls--or a very refined sense of irony--to walk out the door with those. One day there will be a Nelson concert T-shirt circa
After the Rain. That is, just as soon as we give up hope on marrying Gunnar. Or was it Matthew?
Aha! Thought we'd left 'em out, didn't you? We know, we know: No duh. This has long been Dallas', well, premier video store, known citywide among cinephiles for its awesome collection not only of new movies but foreign films, out-of-print classics and other gems you're unlikely to find anywhere else. But Heather, Sam and all the other kool kids at PV have given us a new reason to love this place, as if that's possible. For less than a couple of hundred bucks, you can go to Premiere and buy an all-region DVD player--nifty if you're into buying DVDs outside the States. Or renting them. See, Premiere now stocks discs from all over the world--some titles of which haven't even been released here, in stores or, for that matter, theaters. We were tempted to keep this a secret--we want that copy of, oh, Y Tu Mamá También all for ourselves--but we love this place and these people so much we're willing to spill the beans.
Whether you get yours rimmed with muscle-bound hunks or Vargas girls; trimmed in granite or wood; garnished with leaf reliefs or rhinestone studs; Near and Far has the frames that will make your snapshots pop.
Industrial designer Raymond Loewy believed that "good design keeps the user happy, the manufacturer in the black and the aesthete unoffended." We believe Design Within Reach must have embraced this same maxim when it gathered together some of the best modern home décor and started opening studio locations on both coasts. Known to many fans only by its catalog, DWR's Dallas studio, which opened in February, is the first location in flyover country. We've gone through life dreaming about the Le Corbusier chaise longue, and now we can recline on it. We've seen a million Eames knockoffs, but now we can smell and caress the real deal. Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, Jean Prouvé, George Nelson--if these names are sweet on your tongue, Design Within Reach will be your candy store.
The best-dressed new-millennium baby is as likely to wear a solid black, Metallica-logo-emblazoned romper one day as he is to wear a Swedish jester's cap and clogs from chichi baby direct-mail retailer Hanna Anderson. Baby style is all over the place, and we like that. The best selection and fairly decent pricing of cool baby clothes and linens is at a nearly newborn store in Lakewood. Susan O'Neill opened her Bebe Grande last year, with inspired selections of unique, artful baby clothing from 0-24 months, and by the time you read this, she'll have added more toddler togs in the 2T-3T-4T range. Simply irresistible are O'Neill's savvy instincts to buy and sell all the best French stuff--Catamini, Les Bebes de Tardis, Petit Bateau--and unique imports such as her line of hand-embroidered South African-made tiny outfits from Gordonsbury. Bebe Grande has a good selection of nursery bedding, good toys such as Lamaze and Manhattan and offers new releases of classic children's books. It's a cozy shop, overall, with baby pastel walls and décor, which you may notice on the way to the sale rack.
It's pretty much guaranteed that when you first visit "the Pig," you'll immediately make a plan to introduce the shop to someone else. The sign says "Home, Garden, Gifts, Stationery," and while all those things are there, what it really should say is, "We have a gift for most anyone." Co-owners (and sisters) Mona Kanther and Laura Robbins have stocked their store with an impressive variety. They offer bath goodies such as the Bella line; garden statues, arches, fencing embellishments and planters; a room full of very sweet baby things; our favorite Circle E candles that burn forever; and handcrafted jewelry, some of which is made by local artists. Stationery? Got it. Unusual bird feeders? Got 'em. Outlandish prices? Nope, don't got 'em. So the lowdown is basically this: Their stuff is awesome, there's something for every style and we've never seen better prices.
A pink stove? Sixties divan? Dukes of Hazzard lunch box? Vintage adult gag gifts? Watercolor painting of amputee friends? We found all of the above at Metro Retro. And you thought your grandmother had great stuff...if given the opportunity and the funds, we could furnish an entire abode with the random findings that are Metro Retro. A tip: Make several trips around the floor; you won't find that perfect item on the first time around. Another tip: Ask for help or just chat with Laura and Andrea. If you can't find that perfect Bionic Woman doll or spinning ashtray circa 1954, they'll keep an eye out and let you know. Make it a regularly scheduled destination and the shop won't let you down. When you happen upon a gem, you'll know. Let's just say we bought that painting and we're saving up for the divan.
Suits? Who wears suits? Everyone we know is in something casual, and this venerable department store has one of the widest casual selections around. The Polo and Tommy sections are huge, and the hipper Guess and Lucky Brand areas are big enough to satisfy. Even the house brand, Daniel Cremieux, with its slightly European designs and quality fabrics, is worth checking out. As for shoes, they carry those cool Cole Haan/Nike Air jobs and a bunch of European walking brands that will have you bopping out to your car on some pretty cool cakes.
We never walk out of Lula B's without something. We may find it in a booth near the doors; we may find it in the back corner with all the farmhouse-looking kitchen gadgets. It could be a 1950s aluminum pitcher with a Bakelite handle, or it could be an
E.T. night-light. But it's there, and only many, many minutes of walking slowly and craning your neck into the cramped booths will find it. Sure, you could save some time on eBay or by shopping at a department store for stuff you actually need. But this is like a safari, and a safari without effort is just a zoo.
Contrary to what you might think, these critters don't fight crime, terrorize Tokyo in Godzilla movies or wreak havoc with computer networks. Instead, these large beetle larvae satisfy the cravings of pets, including large birds, small primates and reptiles such as the Texas box turtle. They also make swell fishing bait for those of us who cling to the dream of pulling a wall trophy out of White Rock Lake. Super worms are high in crude protein, and reptiles are especially attracted to their "thrashing" activity, making them as much fun to catch as they are to eat. And at World of Pets, these fat feisty little brown critters are just a buck a dozen. They'll even throw in a piece of nutritious egg crate at no extra charge. But keep a lid on this, before some flamboyant chefs start using them in their niçoise salads.
Whether you were born a woman or paid thousands of dollars to become one, Electrique Boutique has shoes in your size. Likewise, whether you need new kicks for dancing to jazz at the Samba Room or to Kid Rock tunes onstage at Baby Dolls, this store can hook you up. You'll find SMU girls trying on platform sandals with beaded straps sitting next to drag queens squishing their tootsies into thigh-high, five-inch, red patent leather boots. At Electrique Boutique, you can break a new trend or pick up some heels that would break a lesser woman's ankles. Just know that if you ask for thongs, you're not going to be handed a pair of rubber flip-flops.
This little puppy has survived the Petco invasion and is doing just fine, thank you, mostly because of the array of treats and specialty foods, combined with good service and other benefits (like top-notch dog grooming), you can find here. If you're not in East Dallas, it's a bit of a jaunt, but your widdle puppy wuppy is worf it, ain't he, ain't he now, good boy, good boy, yes you are, yes you are...
What? How can the Dallas Observer give Best Video Store to Blockbuster, that evil, excessive-late-fee-charging corporate Godzilla? Simple. For one thing, convenience counts, and we don't have to explain why this company edges out its competitors on that note. Sure, Premiere Video, which has owned this award since 1907, has a better, more eclectic selection. But not everyone lives off Mockingbird Lane, we have to remind ourselves, and convenience does count. While it may be true that Blockbuster recently fought off complaints about its late-fee policy, at least you can still rent videos that don't have to be returned the next day. And you have to give the Dallas-based company credit for evolving: Although the store still focuses on the latest blockbusters, its new releases now include a much broader selection of independent films. If you missed that Spanish thriller that was recently playing at the Angelika, chances are good you can now rent it at Blockbuster.
Tucked away in a little shop next to the Hong Kong Market, P.J.'s Salon isn't hip or swanky, and it isn't expensive or pretentious, either. They won't offer you white wine and cheese, but they will give you a good haircut that's cheap and fast. And if you need more than a haircut, P.J.'s can also give you perms, colors and highlights. Don't be afraid to bring in pictures of your desired styles, either. You may not leave with J. Lo's booty or Britney's belly, but you can have their hair. Fave stylist Ming has been known to work wonders. And another plus: Next door there's a pretty decent Asian restaurant that's used to salon traffic. So if you get the munchies while you're waiting for that perm solution to kick in or for your dark brown locks to go blond, give this place a try. They won't care about the plastic cap on your head or the 45 foil pieces protruding from your scalp.
Nothing's too good for our newborn, which is why we're willing to spend a small fortune on small clothes that'll be good for a short amount of time--a few weeks, maybe a couple of months if we're lucky. This Lakewood store is the place to shop for those who want to pamper their Pampers-wearer: The racks are lined with beautiful import clothing (Petit Bateau, especially, which costs a fortune but lasts forever, or until Junior can hold his head up unassisted), the shelves are stacked with blankets so soft and sumptuous you'll fight the kiddo for 'em and the walls are decorated with the kinds of accessories and knickknacks you read about in those British baby magazines in which Damon Albarn and David Beckham are always pictured looking like the coolest dads that side of the Atlantic. Mostly we shop here so one day we can tell our boy, "We bought all your clothes at Bebe Grand, and look at the thanks we got." Guilt, it's priceless.
In college, we'd lock ourselves in the journalism department's darkroom, crank up the classic rock station and print black-and-white photos until the wee hours of the morning. While the other students were doing beer bongs, we were inhaling the sweet aroma of developer, toner and Photo-Flo. Nowadays, the cost of setting up a personal darkroom--and the recurring nightmare of our dog plundering the boxes of photo papers--is prohibitive. That's why we were glad to hear about Dallas Darkroom, a photo studio and darkroom that's open to the public. You can drop by to print some photos or develop a roll of B&W, or you can call to reserve the photo studio and lighting equipment (all at hourly rates). The staff also offers classes for beginners and advanced photography students.
Do they have the best prices, the best selection, the best trade-ins? We're too busy hunting down baddies in Max Payne to take the time for a survey. We just shop here. A lot. Why? Discounts and variety are part of the reason, but what we like best is the fact that the clerks are players, too. Want to know which of the latest half-dozen NFL games deserves your 50 bucks? Ask the guy behind the counter. Chances are he's played most of them, and when you're checking couch cushions for change to feed your gaming jones, that kind of firsthand advice is invaluable. They also stock new, used and refurbished consoles and a slew of accessories at their 90-plus metroplex stores, as well as DVDs, including the occasional rare anime feature. Become a member of their Game Informer club and earn another 10 percent discount over already marked-down prices. You might just save enough to buy the jumbo bag of Chee-tos.
Not since Annie Sprinkle and Tim Miller graced the stage at Kitchen Dog Theater has there been such an outpouring of LOVE for the bedroom behaviors of all sorts of alternative lifestyles. New Fine Arts East has the best a big city can offer in gay-porn videos, DVDs, magazines, lubes, toys, costumes and games. Look carefully for single servings of "video-head cleaner."
Not sure how so many brand-new, still-shrinkwrapped, kick-ass discs end up in the "used" bin at CD Source. And guess what? We don't really care. Even with Universal's recent decision to drop CD prices, you can't beat getting a $9 copy of the latest, say, Mary J. Blige disc the same week it's out. You can't. Seriously. Don't even try. Wait, what're you doing? What'd we just say? Don't make us get out of this chair. It won't be pretty.
This cool little hole-in-the-wall in the Bishop Arts District in Oak Cliff sells quality cigars, vintage smoking accoutrements and what has to be the most complete selection of rare and select drinkable (as opposed to collectible) soda pop on the planet. Their brand list of cold drinks is waaay too long to repeat here, but it includes A&W Root Beer in rare longneck bottles, A.J. Stephens Root Beer and Birch Beer, Baron's Boot Hill Sassparilla, Big Red in the 10-ounce original heavy glass bottles, Blenheim Red Hot Ginger Ale, Frostie Blue Cream, Henry Weinhard's Orange & Cream and Vernors Ginger Ale in longneck glass. Did we mention Moxie Original Cola Elixir? And dozens and dozens more. It ain't cheap, but if it's the taste you crave, Ifs Ands & Butts is the deal.
Don't want to take our word on it? Fine, then take
Allure magazine's, which recently named colorist J.T. Osgood one of the best colorists around. This is no surprise, as this tony, 'spensive (but worth it) salon in Snider Plaza has long been known as one of the best of its kind in town. As well,
The Dallas Morning News'
Alan Peppard recently named Bruce Osgood one of the 10 best-dressed men in Dallas. So you get to see that, too.
We have a friend who has tried out all the dating services. She is professional, mid-30s and has had a varied degree of success with each. Most of the time the dates turn out OK, sometimes not so much. But she and others we've talked to have nothing but good things to say about the hard-asses at It's Just Lunch. The service, which helps set up professionals on low-risk dates (lunch or early drinks after work, never dinner), does a lot of prescreening, which helps them know who needs to be matched up with whom. When you're payin' to find a mate, the least you can ask of the folks is to thoroughly grill the meat you might eat.
Taking a high school hockey team into the Players Bench is asking for trouble. As their eyes go wide and they take in their surroundings, it's likely that a few might begin to drool, and after a few seconds, all pretense of decorum is abandoned. Players race through the store trying on every piece of equipment that isn't stapled to a display dummy, and that's a lot of equipment to get thrown around. Players Bench, one of the largest hockey-equipment retailers in the Dallas area, can outfit entire teams in helmets, gloves, pants, jock straps...well, maybe not those, but the point is they have a plethora of equipment in different colors, sizes and brands. You want the new Easton Synergy? Forget the expensive rink pro shops and take a trip to Richardson to get the best equipment on the market for a great price.
Sure, there are places with more selection and places with cheaper prices. But for charm, service, and originality, this corner mainstay in East Dallas deserves some credit. Specializing in organics, it has a great selection of herbs and perennials, plus all the natural fertilizers and pest controls you need to unplug from the chemical factory . Many of its garden accessories are locally made, including its great heavyweight cedar arbors and trellises.
We always coveted the clothing machine on
The Jetsons. You know, the one they could step into and it would put clothes on them that fit, and they could even change the color and design. Here's something that comes close. At Casa Loco, you can make your own T-shirts. Go to the store, choose a color, choose the correct size and then choose an iron-on design, and a staff member will press it right then and there. So, if you ever wanted a yellow Mr. T shirt or a lavender one with the
Planet of the Apes logo, here's your chance. Or just go with Elvis Costello or David Bowie. They look good with every color.
Following another marathon of TLC's essential
Trading Spaces, we've continually found ourselves full of enthusiasm and...not much else while nursing a grand homeowner "vision." It's the kind of scheme that works perfectly within the old gray matter, but if it were to be realistically applied, a catastrophe of
Fawlty Towers proportions inevitably would occur. Quality programming or no, Lesson No. 1 is "Don't get delusions of grandeur from a reality show." Still, if
While You Were Out has you as wrapped-up as it does us, then proceed directly to our best of choice at hand and visit the kind employees of Lakewood Hardware. To the casual eye, this store looks just like any other of its ilk: Well-lit, adequate room and efficient displays rule the day. Still, it's the expert knowledge and advice from the staff that make a trip somewhat off the beaten path worthwhile. Yes, we know that homemade gazebo complete with Francis Bacon-inspired gargoyles will look fabulous in your back yard, but please, talk logistics with the folks at Lakewood Hardware first.
Whenever the runway fashions turn back to the looks of Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn, while the others are running to NorthPark for reproductions created with rayon and machine-made lace, go instead to Ahab Bowen. This is where the originals come to live again. The small rooms in the old house where the store is located have vintage dresses in a variety of colors and sizes, and beneath them are shoes of the same era. Everything is of high quality. No ripped seams or moth holes here. Hats, jackets, cardigans, purses, earrings and necklaces can be found (though some of the accessories are repros). There's even men's clothing, but it's more James Dean than Cary Grant.
You don't actually get charged for the dust. It comes free, a gift with purchase, you could say. We like to think it makes our finds even more authentic. Not only did some kid transport his bologna sandwiches in this
Fall Guy lunch box, someone else's dust is still on it. It's history, man. But to look inside Millennium is to understand. It's one big room on a corner in Expo Park, and it's crammed with stuff. Paintings of butterflies and kids with huge eyes are stacked against couches covered with serving trays holding ashtrays, snow globes and other knickknacks. It's a pack rat's heaven and an obsessive-compulsive's nightmare. We bet
Antiques Roadshow would love it as much as we do.
Not only does Plano Cycling & Fitness have the brands--Felt, Trek, Specialized, Cannondale--it's equipped with a knowledgeable staff dedicated to a perfect marriage between body and spoked wheel. Plus the service staff is trained and certified to work on all makes and models, not just the ones the shop hawks. And Plano Cycling supports the sport, sponsoring the Plano Athletic Cycling Club as well as various races and events throughout North Texas.
Most doctors rush through the obligatory two-minute head-nodding, note-scribbling, no-eye-contact exam before turning patients over to a nurse practitioner for treatment. And then they berate you for the few little things that bring meaning and substance to an otherwise miserable existence. You know, drinking, smoking, sexual escapades and big hunks of nearly raw red meat. Well, Dr. Lyla Blake-Gumbs won't let you off the hook for life-threatening habits either. She does, however, spend time with each patient, listening to their stories, making eye contact, asking questions and the like. It's the kind of thing that makes other doctors look ineffective, and if her unique approach to health-care delivery ever reaches the American Medical Association, they'll likely send goons out to lean on her a little, help her see the error of her ways. Until then, she's the closest thing in the Dallas area to a good old-fashioned country doctor.
Retro sportswear is what the fashionable are sporting these days, but it can be expensive keeping up with what NBA lottery picks and bling-blinging rappers are wearing. Not everyone can drop a few hundred on a 1970s-era Dr. J replica jersey. If you've got a spare $20, however, you can jump on the bandwagon, thanks to Classic Sports Logos, the 3-year-old brainchild of SMU alum Chris Anderson. Through its Web site, the local company sells T-shirts bearing the logos of defunct teams from defunct leagues (American Basketball Association, United States Football League, World Team Tennis and more), each one sweeter than the next. Just browsing the site, we salivated over at least a dozen tees, so maybe you'll end up breaking the bank anyway. Consider yourself warned and possibly better-dressed.
Your house is going to hell and you can't even find your handbasket, whatever that is. The gate to the fence won't close, the garbage disposal won't dispose of anything and your back bedroom could use a serious coat of paint. George Miller is without doubt the guy for you. He is a pest-exterminating, ceiling-fan-installing, door-jamb-adjusting, light-fixture-replacing, house-paint-applying, gizmo/gadget-fixing jack-of-all-trades. A kind-hearted soul, he will attempt to fit you into his busy schedule if he possibly can. If you must be at work when he is scheduled to arrive, rest assured you will be able to trust him with your home and your possessions. If only you felt the same way about the cable guy.
For three years, we were
this close to buying patio furniture from Target; the stuff was cheap but not cheap-looking, good enough. But not quite good enough: We stalled long enough to wind up at Sunnyland, which we heard was expensive but worth the price--and not so exorbitant if you scoured the discounted section hidden away in the back, where prices are slashed like tires in a bad neighborhood. The selection is pretty impressive, and so are the prices; these guys are proud of their patio furniture. We almost walked out and cursed ourselves for not shopping at Target after all, which has since ditched the furniture for its back-to-school section, till we stumbled across the oddball stuff kept on the side--the cedar swings and gliders, say, and the other handmade wooden products that look more at home on a rancher's front porch than a suburban back porch. Our salesman added it up, and after giving us 15 percent off (not an irregular custom here), we realized we could deck out our deck at a not-unreasonable price and make it look a little different from the usual four-chairs-and-a-table--more
Giant than
Queer Eye for the Straight Guy in the end, but we're still giddy as schoolboys.
The workers behind the counter don't throw the fish around, and you can't see any blue water, except in snapshots on the wall, but the tidy little market has an excellent selection and outstanding customer service. While grocery-store fish-counter personnel always seem to say everything is fresh and never frozen and then recommend the stiff trout with milk-covered eyes, the workers at TJ's educate you on how to tell if fish is fresh and offer good recommendations. The goods are flown in daily. The Maine lobster was as tasty as the owner promised, and the store's smoked salmon could go up against any found in an American Indian gift shop in the Pacific Northwest.
Rent generally is not the happiest check to leave our tight wallets, but there is one leasing company that makes us glad each month. Since their signs have been cropping up more and more in Dallas neighborhoods, rental units owned by the family business have seen improvements in façades, tenants and amenities. Maintenance calls are returned almost immediately (which, in our experience, is unheard of), and the owners themselves follow up on the work. Shady characters are few and far between in the complexes, and the single girl can reside in a Turner property feeling as safe as one can near Lower Greenville and the like.
Cool is hardly good enough to describe the 16th- to 19th-century antiquarian prints and rare maps you will find at Beaux Arts. The prints are of botanicals, natural history and architecture and can really class the place up (more so than the college posters). The gallery sells huge maps of Texas and elsewhere from the 18th and 19th centuries. Some of the maps show old borders and railroad routes. They will also frame the prints. Prices vary widely, but some prints are surprisingly affordable.
Cotton Island offers enough glitz, goof and glam to make up for the ferocious Snider Plaza parking. It's a fun store, and at first glance, one might think it's all too young and flirty. The boutique is young and flirty, but it also offers a great selection of wardrobe staples such as Michael Stars shells, Mavi jeans and Baked Beads earrings. It's one of those places where customers should try on before they write off the look as too immature. Some of the pieces (mesh tops by Just in Time, for instance) look fantastic coupled with a power suit and heels, and a vintage-wash denim skirt could replace that suit skirt and liven up a sales meeting without going too Carrie Bradshaw. The shop also offers dorm-room décor, an expanse of seasonal shoes (brands such as Rocket Dog, Puma and more) and some seriously fabulous gaudy-chic jewelry. Moms: Take your daughters--and we want to see both of you in the dressing room.
Face it: You've been addicted to customizing every corner of your life ever since you installed aftermarket neon tire valve cap lights on your Olds Delta 88. Now you can customize your own body fluids, too, with body lotions, bath oils, massage creams, bath sprays and shower gels--among other toiletry oozes and goops--tailor-made to your specifications. Choose from more than 100 fragrances and virtually any color your eyes can detect--even neon green to match those spinning tire cap lights.
Walk into the white-on-white wonder that is The Apple Store, and be forewarned: You
will buy something. It will be sleek. It will be silver or white. It will be so effin' cool you'll want to take pictures of it and hang them in your hallway. It will have an "i" in front of its name (iPod, iMac), but if you are trying to justify the expense to your spouse, best to change that up a bit. ("No, honey, I got it for both of us. It's a wePod.") Now, you can tell yourself that you're too practical to pay top-of-the-line prices for computers and their accessories. Sure, you can. We did the same thing. Oh, have you seen our Titanium PowerBook?
This must be hard times for independent retailers of high-end fashion, particularly when clothes can be marked down for next to nothing at chain stores such as the Gap, knockoffs make function secondary to form and folks just don't have the bucks to shell out for designer labels. How Harry DeMarco (H.D. himself) weathers the economic storm is a testament to his good design sense, entrepreneurial instincts and indomitable personality, which makes shopping at H.D.'s feel more like schmoozing with a close friend. No uptown suits are sold here, just cutting-edge shirts, sweaters, shoes, pants and jeans. For decades, Harry and his true love, Vicky, who runs the nearly adjacent H.D.'s for women, have built up a devoted customer base and brought Europe back to Dallas for the hip and hip hopefuls. And they have done it with the kind of high style that will charm the pants right off you. Or right on you.
There was a time--before most of us at the
Observer were born--when it wasn't enough for a gas station to sell gas. It needed a little something extra: a petting zoo, a reptile display or (a favorite from that trip to the Grand Canyon back in 1966) a full set of 20-foot-tall
Flintstones characters complete with an oversized replica of Fred's log car. Decades later, the spirit of the roadside attraction is alive and well downtown at Fuel City, where they've moved in a herd of genuine Texas longhorn cattle, a fake pump jack and some nice cactuses native to parts nowhere close to here. Country music on the loudspeakers and a Ponderosa-style store/taco stand only enhance the mood. For the big kids, there's a handy drive-up beer window with a killer selection. Gas, beer and cows--now that's some fine Lone Star living.
The fashions never get stale at Arden B at the Dallas Galleria. Styles are typically geared toward women ages 18 to 40. The wide variety of looks--and competitive prices--make this the perfect place to shop for formal and casual occasions.
DSW has various locations, but the Preston Road store is our fave, with its rock-star boots, clunky clogs, dainty sandals and even some Kenneth Cole dress shoes for the guys. Name brands abound, and with the self-serve setup, there's no guilt from sending salespeople back and forth to the stock room. What's more, the whole experience offers a sense of bonding with other shoe fanatics. Not once have we been to DSW and not asked a total stranger, or been asked by one, "What do you think of these?" The clearance section beats all (except maybe Nordstrom Rack) with an array of sizes and styles to satisfy every member of your shoe-shopping squadron. Shoppers swarm on weekends, so if you take sanity with your shopping, go on a weekday or weekend evening. The true shoe whore values the waist-high displays for quick scanning and the plethora of mirrors for the necessary one-legged examination. Don't be surprised (the clerk won't be) when you head to the checkout with four-plus pairs of kick-ass
Sex and the City-worthy kicks.
These days, when animal rights are being elevated to the level of human rights, shouldn't you take every step to ensure that your pets are treated with the dignity they deserve? If you don't have the time to give them that dignity because you are out of town, too busy at work or otherwise engaged, the surrogate mom of Probable Claws, Betty Jo Hoxie, is there to meet all the emotional and physical needs of your pets. This "bonded pet-care specialist" will pet-sit little Fluffy at your home or hers; she will make a play date for a walk in the park, permit her a much-needed potty break or just give her some human face time in her own back yard. Besides dogs, Probable Claws also services the needs (including poop scooping) of cats, fish, fowl, rodents and snakes. And they do it in such a nonjudgmental way, you never feel guilty for not being there yourself.
We're not certain what constitutes health food these days, but this growing national chain was here first, and some of us are eternally grateful. Good fresh produce, bins of raw grains, organic everything and one of the nicest selections of natural soaps--including a cheap and serviceable store brand--and scented candles mean we haven't surrendered completely to last year's winner: newcomer Central Market. As serial coffee drinkers, we're always impressed with the bean selection, and at least one nonflavored variety is usually on sale. No doubt a little competition will make these guys a bit better.
Fair quotes. Nice, quick work. No false salesmanship. What more could you ask for in your vehicle's time of need? They actually did a little repair on our jalopy--a bashed mirror and a dent--while we waited in a nearby Exposition Park coffee shop. An advice-giving relative once said you can judge an auto body shop by its cleanliness and the kinds of cars it services. Our Honda was one of the few cars on the lot retailing for less than 30 grand. And the shop is spotless. Owner Alex Gonzalez set up in this up-and-coming neighborhood back in the dark days of 1991. Chances are he's the guy you'll meet when you drive up.
It's tough to choose a chain over a mom-and-pop store, but for selection of children's books, Barnes & Noble is tops. Any book the store doesn't have on its shelf, it can get pretty darn quickly. They've got all the classic stories and even the latest favorites. When asked about a copy of a certain popular children's book series, one independent bookstore operator said it could be several weeks or longer before any arrived. Barnes & Noble had several copies in stock, and its kids corner seemed to have as many titles as the specialty stores do.
Don't know about you, but discount liquor stores don't mean a thing when cheapo Wild Turkey's the best they can stuff in a bag. It's all about selection, baby, and this warehouse-sized Deep Ellum liquor paradise has just about every brand of booze you can imagine--from the inexpensive hooch to the vintage Dom you can touch but never actually afford. And since the place buys in bulk--seems to, anyway--the prices remain lowlowlow, which means you can make your Maker's Mark without emptying the wallet and even try some exotica titles without feeling like you went to Vegas and got busted on fifth street. The beer selection's awfully chill as well--literally and otherwise--with an entire wall-sized fridge stocked with bottles and sixers and cases of brew from all across the state, country and world.
Used CD marts abound in Dallas, and merchants ranging from Wherehouse Music to CD Warehouse to Half Price Books have selections of used product. But where do the most fervent music lovers go to locate their much-desired discs? We point to CD Source in the Old Town Shopping Center, which boasts excellent selections of jazz, folk, blues, Latin, and other genres as well as good old rock and roll. CD Source seems to defy the cardinal rule of used CD shops, which is that people trade in crap they don't want, making for crappy selection and plenty of copies of Live's Throwing Copper.
This lovely store sells all sorts of unusual items for the garden and home. We saw some angel sculptures and large-scale urns that would make almost any outdoor setting look classical. It also carries a nice assortment of iron works and other small collectibles for home exteriors.
Piled in the row of glass display cases are thongs for every occasion and to match every mood. Workday thongs in black teem from the case alongside lacy and satiny bits in lavender, cobalt, peach, or lime for color coordinating with super slinky dresses and skirts. When the time is right, pick from the fierce jungle prints or the sleek black and red numbers, or maybe one in pink lace with little bows for a very good bad girl.
Blockbuster Video locations sprout up like so many mushrooms at nearly every Dallas intersection. But where, oh where, to go for all things urban, African, and hip? We recommend Alternative Videos in Fair Park, where you can pick from a range of selections, from Thelonious Monk videos to the
Roots miniseries boxed set and a huge array of classic '70s blaxploitation flicks. The store is cluttered and can barely hold three people, but it has the most variety when it comes to the African-American persuasion. Open Friday and Saturdays only, 12 p.m.-6 p.m.
Fiesta and Danals offer bigger, brighter Mexican stores, of course, but Supermercado Mexico is still mecca to people who like their markets small and messy and who need to see their tortillas being baked. Cow heads can be found here, in season, along with an excellent collection of prayer candles, some of which tend to veer off in the direction of certain ancient West African gods associated with voodoo. This is definitely not Tom Thumb, which is why you may like it.
It pains us to write about this subject. For the last three years, every "Best of Dallas" winner in this category, as soon as it receives this accolade, has had its service go from exemplary to downright unpredictable. It's almost as if some sort of curse is attached. With this in mind, we want to state that we wish no ill on Dee & Hattie Cleaners. We wish them well for all the personal and friendly service they have provided their customers. We wish them success for the fine quality of dry cleaning they provide. Most of all, we wish that they can continue to get the mustard stains out of our shirts.
It has probably happened to all of us. You need a present
fast for someone you barely know--cousin's fiancé, boss' teenage son, better half's Aunt Mable. Gift certificates and checks stuck in nondescript greeting cards are out. They're too impersonal. Flavored body oils are a touch too personal--unless you're way friendly. Talulah in Lakewood has great, inexpensive stuff that says, "Hey, I put some thought into fulfilling what is, in reality, an imposition." The store carries specialty bath and body care items in a variety of scents and styles, from Blue Q's Ultra Fancy Dirty Girl to more manly scents packaged in plaid flannel sacks. From the whimsical (dashboard hula girls and boys) to the more conservative (baskets, candleholders, and original art), everything can be gift-wrapped. Talulah even stocks greeting cards for all occasions.
The guys at Enterprise rock: free soda when you walk in, nice people, and they deal. Granted, renting a car is usually not a pleasant experience, especially because the majority of cars are rented when your car is in the shop. And if your car is in the shop for a prolonged period of time, it's because you were in an accident. These guys understand. Here's a sample conversation:
YOU: "Hey, I was in a wreck, and I need a rental car. But I'm also under 25 and really don't want to spend an extra $20/day just because I'm younger."
THEM: "No problem. These things happen. We've got a full-size car for $36/day."
YOU: "F@#k! I only wanted an economy size and $36/day is too F@#$%n pricey."
THEM: " All right. Check this out. We'll rent you the full size at the economy price of $23/day, and you get unlimited miles. Now how you like them apples?"
YOU: "I likes."
The folks at Rent-A-Wreck understand that the primary need of a customer is to obtain reliable transportation. This is a no-frills auto rental shop, but that doesn't mean the cars are inferior, despite the unfortunate name. We loved the midsized automobile that we rented for a week at a price far lower than at one of the national chain stores. Next time you need a car between auto shop visits, save a few dollars and check them out.
The people who sell their CDs to this store either have fickle tastes or really love their CD burners, because it's easy to score used copies of new albums here. The selection runs the gamut from small, local labels to major-label releases with healthy doses of independent releases and imports available too. The selection is better than most, and so are the prices. Depending on the number of copies in stock and how long they've been sitting around, a used CD runs from $2 to $9. That means you'll save enough on that used 'N Sync CD to grab their Japanese import with the additional tracks.
OK, so the stock on hand doesn't match up with the warehouse chains, but owner Donna Cressman and her staff make up for it with friendly service and by offering useful critiques of books
they've actually read. The selection of hardbacks and paperbacks is good, and if they don't have the particular title you're looking for, they'll quickly order it and give you a call when it arrives. The salespeople obviously love books and are quick to tack a note on the shelves offering a personal review of something they're eager to recommend. It's one of those hospitable stops that visiting authors, touring to beat the drum for their latest tomes, love to see on their schedules. It also sells a good selection of magazines, national and local, and greeting cards for every occasion.
In the late 1940s, Angus Wynne began building the Wynnewood community, the heart of which was the Wynnewood Village shopping center. By the early 1990s, this once very modern shopping center was an almost-abandoned hulk. In an almost miraculous rebirth it's again flourishing with stores that run the gamut, from Bobby's T-Shirts and Pan Africa Connection to Kroger and MacFrugals.
Don't stop driving until you find this hidden stone yard in Oak Cliff, snuggled against the Trinity River levee. Drive in and weigh your vehicle. Then wander the rows of stone to your heart's content, admiring rocks hauled from all over the United States. Even though it's near downtown, this is a lost bucolic corner of the city: You'll scare up some cottontails as you search. Load up what you want, weigh out, and pay up. They also deliver.
Healthy food can be hard to come by, but Whole Foods has no problem keeping a vast stock. From organic veggies to vitamin supplements, the granola munchers of Dallas have a place to call their own. The produce sections are large and the alternative vegetarian fare--tofu dogs and such--is more varied than what most non-healthy eaters would believe possible. A fun aisle contains books of varying worth, from holistic eating guides to vegetarian manifestos. The people at Whole Foods, by and large, look pretty fit and trim; perhaps the best endorsement of the natural food concept is their toned bodies. For those who are not so committed to health but want a light meal, the prepared food section is pricey but delicious.
Times have changed in the health-food business. Lost to the beef culture are the local health-conscious restaurants of old. Natura's, Eureka's, and Preston's have all succumbed to the Atkins diet and gone belly up. Low-fat now means chicken-fried steak without the gravy. Mega-health food stores with enclosed food courts rule the day. For those who like their carrot juice freshly chilled and their wheat grass freshly mowed, there is still Roy's in Preston Royal Shopping Center. This health-food store is small but hands-on, a holdover from the organic health food movement of the '60s when wheat germ was king. Knowledgeable devotees peddle a vast array of vitamins and supplements to keep you thinking that you are doing something, anything, to stay young. Try the protein plate if all else fails.
The SPCA of Texas has been around since 1938, so it's a sure bet you're dealing with a reputable group. Each month, the nonprofit organization handles an average of 1,200 animals. It has two locations, one in Dallas, another in McKinney, and you can adopt a pet at either place. The Dallas location can house more than 200 animals at a time, and the McKinney location can shelter another 80. That means there is a good selection of pets from which to choose. Dogs are $129, cats $99. The SPCA also provides information on numerous breed groups in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, and many of these groups have animals available for adoption or can refer you to a reputable breeder. The SPCA offers many offsite adoption programs.
Not all of us like to acknowledge that we've had to dip into the color wheel now and again, but when middle age starts creeping up and gray hairs become evident, the colorists at this shop know how to keep you away from the tell-tale orangey glow or the just-too-vivid blonds.
Vegas is all about fantasy, and Legend is the way to get there. (It's also the best way to go to Los Angeles, New York, and Washington, D.C.) For less than the price of a spur-of-the-moment ticket on any other airline, you'll be treated like a high roller from the time the valet takes your car at their private terminal until you're on board, wrapped in a roomy, luscious leather seat for the 9:45 p.m. flight. You'll be at the tables by 11:15 p.m. Even if you crap out, Legend will treat you like a high roller on the 1:05 a.m. flight back to Big D.
You must admit, it's clever, and you won't forget it or the location after glancing at it once.
Most of us see the inside of a florist when our anniversary rolls around, when it's a major holiday (and around our house, Arbor Day counts as a major holiday), or when we're in trouble with the old lady. Dr. Delphinium, located in those most impractical spot in town (where the Dallas North Tollway intersects with Lovers Lane, making it danged near impossible to back out into traffic), has flowers for all such occasions. The cold-storage room is filled with all manner of flora, and the rest of the store overflows with exotic arrangements (some, less than $50) made for any day of the week. The staff is patient and helpful ("Uh, how do you say 'I'm sorry I ran over the cat' for $25?"), so much so we've begun to visit the good Dr. when we're just in the mood. Fact is, you know how we can tell this is the best florist in town? On Valentine's Day or February 15, this place is packed to the stems. The Dr. is in.
This is the most wannabe Beverly Hills area ever. The mall's layout and composition scream Southern California, as do the stores: Banana Republic for him and her, Williams Sonoma, St. John's, Hermès Paris, Chanel, Prada. And what Los Angeles establishment would be complete without an Ann Taylor, Chanel, Starbucks, and Jamba Juice (health drinks)? The parking lot is like an auto show, so unless you have a bankroll to spend or a loked-out ride, do yourself a favor and go to Syms, a few miles west on Mockingbird.
Time Inc. stopped publishing
Life magazine in May, but nostalgia buffs still have a place to turn: Forestwood Antique Mall. Issues of the magazine going back to the 1940s are sold, many in excellent condition. Prices usually run around $15, depending on the issue. It's a small price to pay for a glimpse at some of the best magazine photography of this past century.
We went on a search for a gown at the request of a friend who was to attend a high-profile, black-tie function. (Yes, we're female.) Buying ladies formal wear in a city this size is not as easy as you might think; we won't elaborate on how disappointing and downright ugly this search got. We can, however, recommend the quality and styles of gowns that we found at Stanley Korshak. The dresses came in a variety of sizes and were beautiful. The point of this story? 1. Start your search for a gown early. 2. Start it at this store. 3. If you
aren't female, for God's sake, shave your back.
A discriminating friend recently walked into the Kroger at Cedar Springs in Oak Lawn. She had been lamenting the demise of Simon David stores with their wonderful selection of exotic items. (Unfortunately, the Tom Thumb replacements just don't have the same magic.) Imagine her surprise when she found that the flower selection at this simple store was larger than expected and fresh to boot. Thinking that this was a fluke, she came back a few more times and was not disappointed. It also carries a good selection of wine from respectable vineyards. (No Ripple or Boone's Farm Tickled Pink in sight.)
When it "absolutely, positively" has to get there, don't be so certain it's Federal Express or UPS that is going to get it (whatever it is) there first, not with the recent launch of NextJet. The Dallas-based, Internet-enabled start-up guarantees same-day (instead of overnight) service for those who need the fastest delivery going and are willing to pay for it. By using a business model that relies heavily on the Internet, the company books existing carriers for its shipments, and has no inventory of airplanes to warehouse and maintain. NextJet plans to cater more to business customers, but everyday consumers who want something in the last minute--caviar from Iran, Maui Wowie from Hawaii--can get the service by paying the fare.
Businesswomen on a budget frequent this women's clothing resale store with a vengeance. One of our shoppers recently found an excellent deal on an Ann Klein suit. The atmosphere and staff are friendly, and you can usually find most items at 50-80 percent off retail department store prices.
Medallion is a good neighborhood place to go for a cheap haircut and interesting conversation. You can even get keys cut here; the machine is near the door. Rugrats are also welcome, but so are SMU students, young men, old men, anybody with hair follicles. Old-fashioned barbershops are a dying breed, veritable endangered species in an era in which "stylists" shear both men and women. So, men with hair, we call on you to unite in support of your local barbershop. You have nothing to lose but your bangs.
We're tired of all the product placement at the mega-toy stores around town. We're mortified that Disney and Pixar are having their way with our 3-year-old. Buzz Lightyear and Pokémon and Tarzan and Bullwinkle and Babe are making us hanker for a concealed-weapon license. Escape the insanity of being a target market for Rugrats and enter the Lakeshore Learning Store, where toys have a purpose other than lining the coffers of global media conglomerates. Here is a vast array of learning toys and fun toys (
sans mass-media stuff) and knowledgeable sales people to help you strike the right balance between the two.
This shop actually has fine china in stock, not just a sample on the floor and a frustrating four-week wait. At $1,450 a plate, Flora Danica isn't for everyone, but it's nice to know you could run out and get a set in an emergency. At more reasonable prices are Wedgwood, Spode, Present Tense, and Richard Ginori, for the bride who wants everything.
Our family-room couch, a nifty if rather impractical wood-frame affair, sells for a couple thou in most catalogs; we bought it for less than half that...even though, or maybe because, it used to sit on the
Good Morning Texas set. (No truth to the rumor it's a former casting couch, though it has seen a lot of pussy lately--dude, our
cats sleep on it.) We bought the couch and pretty much everything else in our house at the Gabberts outlet on Furniture Row, off LBJ Freeway and Welch Road. Everything at Gabberts' bargain-bin warehouse is dimes on the dollar, though you shouldn't confuse "discount" with "crap": Most of the stuff here--from the leather couches to the dining-room tables to recliners--is top-of-the-line furniture the main store can no longer stock or sell. And they're willing to part with it for cheap, cheap, cheap. They'll deliver too, which is important when you're trying to fill and empty house with a little one-stop shopping.
To all those who swore off candles when TV news programs sensationalized the lead content of wicks several months ago: It's OK. Ergo's wicks are made of cotton. The wax is soy-based and food-grade so that the candles burn cleanly and evenly, which means they stay attractive while burning. The Dallas-based candle maker, which supplies several upscale retail stores, sells its discontinued fragrances and overstocked merchandise at its outlet on Motor Circle near Stemmons from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. every Saturday. Ergo's most popular scents, including Ch'i, Shanti, Duo, and Zen Temple, are available in a variety of sizes and containers. Choose from the aluminum travel cups to three-wick glass bubble jars at about 50 percent off retail prices.
Proprietors Robert Wilson and Matt Tully are looking for clients who want more than just a little off the top. They love doing out-of-town folks--Britney Spears' dancers came in for late-night drinks, hair coloring, and a cathartic bitch session--because, as Wilson says, "They won't be coming back, and I can really do my best work." This is not a threat from some kind of loose-cannon stylist, because he and Tully can take the plunge into "creative" without drowning in "tacky." Still, they often find that people looking for high-fashion cuts in Dallas skew to a conservative range of two or three looks. They make annual visits to hair shows and seminars with top cutters in Europe, and return itching to introduce the locals to something different. Sounds a little scary, until you sit down and talk with Wilson or Tully and realize that their brains contain a 1,000-page flip book of contemporary and classic cuts. It's not that they want to try something fresh for the sake of freshness alone--they won't make you the guinea pig for some
au courant Czech crackhead's new style goof--but they want to try something new for you. In other words, their first goal is a client's attractiveness. Let their restless imagination be your reward, and once you become a regular, ask them about the monthly Saturday night "hair events" they host in their Deep Ellum salon.
At Restoration Hardware, thumb-sized candle snuffers and a penguin-shaped cocktail shaker are necessities, not luxuries. The stores are also totally Wodehouse--the fine, polished wood furniture has the reserved elegance of Jeeves, while the tin toys and quirky high-dollar accessories are reminiscent of Bertie Wooster. There are recipe books containing only after-dinner drinks, and road-sign bingo cards, magnets made from milk bottle tops, and door-knockers suitable for Dracula's Transylvania spread. Then, lining the cash register areas are tubs and stacks of gadgets that you didn't even know you needed (canceled casino dice and a mini screwdriver key chain) and ones you're surprised you were able to live without (a car-trunk extender and a mouth-sized dentist's mirror).
Women (or anybody not into car repairs), pay attention: These guys won't rip you off. They're nice people who come through in clutch situations. First, they flip the towing bill for you and haul in your heap. Then they give you an estimate that is between $3,000 and $5,000 less than the dealership's estimate. If you don't like the price they quote you, they'll deal. Not to mention they do a great job repairing and rebuilding cars.
These sturdy oak half-barrels, still redolent of California cabernet, are generous enough to hold a water lily, a bog plant, and a couple of fish--and cost only $29. Finding out that your apartment's balcony isn't quite as sturdy as you thought costs a lot more.
This store has been here for 25 years, and you can't leave without buying a grill or something unwieldy you hadn't intended to purchase. The store has about 15,000 square feet of floor space, and the soft-spoken employees do a lot of work for their customers, including installing washers on faucets, pipe work, etc. They don't charge union rates, making their service cheaper than a plumber. They also install screen doors and know their stuff.
Thrift store stuff covered in lime green plants, mushrooms, and owls is just too
Brady Bunch. While Greg may have loved Carol's groovy style, having a house that resembles a cartoonish oak grove growing under a toxic dump is just so lame, man. Think hip--make that hep. Bright aluminum tumblers, shiny cocktail shakers, Tiki masks, martini glasses with colored stems and skewers with plastic olives on the tips, worn playing cards, and jazz club-style art and mirrors are
it, baby, and Cool Junk has it all. Though it's sometimes difficult to catch the store when it's open, finding one of those giant metal cigarette lighters that looks like an oil lamp is worth it. Watch friends try to pocket one and carry it home without a noticeable limp.
If you're looking for serious support, these little ladies have it. You don't just go grab a handful of bras and hope one fits. Oh no, before you even get to look at a bra, you're properly measured, advised on the best sort of support for you, and then allowed to try on the bras they select for you. Go with it, it works. If you're between sizes or a really odd fit, they'll alter them while you wait. Plus they have those cool gel bras for a poor girl's instant boob job.
If your Oriental rug is a treasure, if you think it might be a treasure, or even if you know it's definitely not a treasure, this is the place to bring it after it has been treated disrespectfully by cat, child, or roommate. Three generations of family owners, originally from the part of the world where your rug may have been woven, know just how to handle both treasures and knock-offs.
Draconian drug laws being what they are, "head shop" is perhaps an unhealthy term. That may explain why Pipe Dream's matchbooks describe the stores as selling "lifestyle accessories." That they do. A section of creative water bongs of various shapes and sizes (Grateful Dead bear heads, mushrooms) draws attention, but the good deals lie with the smaller pipes. Glass pipes are of a good quality and appealing to the eye. There is a good selection of T-shirts, posters, and bumper stickers--staples of all head shops. Another lesser-known plus is the selection of cigars and tobacco pipes sported at most store locations. Not that
all the products aren't intended for smoking tobacco...oh, never mind.
This top-notch clinic includes a pet adoption center for prospective pet owners. Their patient staff members have a great love for animals; all animals, from purebreds to mixed breeds, are treated like millionaire patients. Offering all services with a tremendous Aggie Howdy greeting, this animal clinic is a favorite with the East Dallas dog and cat set.
Along this strip, you will soon find brand-spanking new locations of Neiman Marcus, Dillard's, Target, and all the others. Apparently seizing on the opportunities available because of the high-priced housing going up all around this area, practically every retail operation in America seems to think it's necessary to have representation here. Since the roads are still under construction, the traffic is bumper-to-bumper. But from near the Dallas North Tollway on is a sight that makes it all worthwhile: a bronze and gold, larger-than-life size trio of mounted polo players--apparently a reference to the polo club nearby. Can America get any tackier?
Surrounded on every side by the urban grit of downtown Oak Cliff, this sophisticated little outdoor nursery, between Jefferson and 12th Streets, is a delightful surprise for people who stumble on it unexpectedly. Cleverly put together, with a neat little gift shop, this is a place to come and walk the aisles if for no other reason than to enjoy a half-hour vacation from the rest of Dallas.
Little feet grow faster than delinquent tax penalties, so it helps to have a place with lots of variety, colors, and styles of footwear plus terrific service. Stride Rite is not as cost-effective as burlap and twine, but at least with these shoes you won't find people from the government knocking on your door.
We're tempted to say, "Any place other than Fry's Electronics," but that's a cheap shot. (OK, not really: We once had a Fry's salesman talk us into a $2,000 computer that was out-of-date 13 minutes after we bought it. Then, when we got it home, it didn't work. When we brought it back, the salesman insisted there was nothing he could do for us, despite the fact it was
under warranty and a piece of crap. We vowed never to return, and he said only, "Fine.") And, yeah, fact is, the best place to buy a computer is probably online, from the likes of Gateway or Dell--or just buy yourself a Mac and save yourself all that trouble. But Best Buy has always done us right: The salespeople have some idea what they're talking about, and if they don't, they get someone who does (unlike another store...ya listening, fellas?). And fact is, Best Buy's one of the cheaper computer outlets in town: A monitor we were going to buy at...well, somewhere else, was $50 cheaper. Seriously--50 freakin' dollars. And we didn't have to drive to Garland, park in Rockwall, and wait in a line that backs up all the way to Wylie.
It's time to update that tired collection of half-empty bottles of Paco Raban and Grey Flannel. Get modern by going back so far in the past that it's new again with Neiman's exclusive collection of colognes from the 200-year-old Creed company of England. Or plant yourself firmly in the 21st century with a splash of Zaharoff. Big plus--the guys at the counter actually know every product they sell.
Flannery O'Connor was correct. A good man
is hard to find, but a good all-purpose handyman is almost impossible to find in a city the size of Dallas. It's almost a disservice to call Snider a handyman. He does so much more than that. He does interior and exterior painting and carpentry and specializes in plumbing. He can handle small professional repairs to large-scale remodeling jobs. He is the choice of several professional interior designers to help carry out their plans for clients. We were as impressed with the quality of a paint job that he did for a client as we were with the price that he charged for it. So the next time you think you can build a fence as well as Bob Vila, do yourself a favor and call Tommy. You can stave off dealing with your own hand-eye coordination troubles a little longer.
The hobby of creating one-of-a-kind scrapbooks has been growing in Dallas--among our friends, at least. To help with this new trend is Scrappy's. The store carries an excellent selection of scrapbooking necessities, including adhesive stickers, unusual papers, books, binders, and ideas galore. The Scrappy's staff is friendly and helpful.
Worried that a mechanized car wash is going to suck the paint off your new roadster? Afraid that some unthinking automaton is going to scrape instead of scour, whack instead of wax? Fear no more, friends. Forest is a hand-wash car wash, eschewing rolling machines and whipping brushes for humans with sponges (and at reasonable prices). This people-centric motif extends to the rest of the car wash as well. Grab a plastic chair, either indoors or out, and browse the magazine rack. Feeling a little tense--some road rage perhaps--there is always Massages by George, the man with the chair who will cleanse your body of its toxins while the washers do the same for your car.
Some men know how to dress well. Some men have significant others to help them dress well. For the other 80 percent of us, we have help from guys like David Mills. Mills has long been a treasured secret for shoppers at the men's department of Neiman Marcus at NorthPark Center. Ask him to find you a suit, and he can find it in less than 15 minutes. Ask him to put together a shirt and tie combination, and you'll be walking out with clothes that are elegant and uniquely flattering. His taste is impeccable. He's able to work with a variety of men's personal styles to assemble something that you find appealing. That's what makes him a favorite with many of the best-dressed men in Dallas.
While the video chains are trying to catch up to the DVD-renting business that other specialty and independent stores already have, Movie Trading Co. already is several steps ahead. Go into any location, pick up any new or used DVD, and rent it for a few bucks. Try out the special features and see if it's good enough to add to your proud and growing collection. If you like it, you can buy it for the regular price minus the rental fee. MTC also stocks catalog and specialty items.
It almost doesn't matter what kind of price break you can get elsewhere on the same suit. In the end, the only break that really counts is the one your cuff makes before it hits your shoe. The only people who know how to do that are real honest-to-goodness, pins-in-the-mouth tailors with cloth tape measures draped around their necks, preferably bald, with thick glasses and a pronounced stoop. That's what you get at Culwell & Sons. That's why it's worth it.
On our way to The Gap, we stopped in at Bachrach out of innocent curiosity. We never made it to the original retail destination, and bought two excellent short-sleeve button-down shirts, which we wear every week (we still need more shirts). Anyhow, Bachrach is one of those "European"-style places, but that doesn't mean you'll end up looking frou-frou if you go there. The clothes are sleek and lightweight and should be worn by people who have a high opinion of themselves. We've been working out lately and, fairly or not, have somehow fallen into that category. The staff is very helpful.
Cosmic Comics and Cards owner Mike Rubino has been a collector himself for 30 years and in business since 1980, so he understands his customers. His eclectic range of merchandise ranges from
Archie and Jughead to
The Girl from U.N.C.L.E. to modern day
X-Men, and back issues are easy to locate, neatly arranged by title and number. While his average customer is male, age 20-25, there's plenty for the kid collector to look over. Additionally, there's a wide assortment of trading cards (sports, non-sports), comic book hero/heroine figurines, and adventure games.
Most comic-book stores live up, or down, to the stereotype: the good ol' fanboy club, the fortress of solitude and attitude. Woe to the novice who walks in unaware of what awaits him (or her, and let's be serious); you're in for the stink-eye from the guy behind the counter, who can't believe you don't know about Preacher or Top 10. Titan Comics, which bills itself as "the store for ther serious collector," exists almost to disprove the cliche. It's owned by a woman (Cecilia Shorr, who started her first comic shop in Houston almost two decades ago), staffed by women and Cecilia's kindly husband, Jeremy, and filled not only with the latest DC and Marvel titles, but the oddball good stuff that disproves the notion comics are still for superheroes. With its wall of new stuff and boxes of old stuff, Titan has become our home away from home, at least until we restock our boxes with copies of World's Finest, Brave and the Bold and Daredevil--ya know, the ones our moms sold when we went to college.
Place your greasy nose smudge next to ours and marvel at the brass and colored glass lamps lining the window sill, along with black-and-white Hollywood photos and various other gorgeous art deco baubles. But unless several Benjamins are burning a hole in your pocket, stay outside. Inside lurk antiques buffed and shined to prime condition, including a carved bedroom set that could fill a ballroom and that dining room set we love so much, but it's twice the price of our car and just a few hundred less than our college education.
Two career families, already over-scheduled to the max with kids' activities, will find they can cross at least two items off their checklist if they visit the Stride-Rite Shoe Store in Preston Center. Not only can they select from a large variety of kids' shoes--from sandals to hiking boots--they can saunter into the back, where they'll get a decent, no-hassles kids' haircut. Yes, there are many juvenile haircutteries popping up around town, but they have so many toys, tapes, and play-spaces that kids get overstimulated, unable to keep their butts in the chair for very long. At Stride-Rite, Ginger is especially sought after by kids of all ages for her quick scissors, calm demeanor, and deft ability to keep squirming toddlers still by loading them down with lollipops.
At one time it was respectable to furnish an apartment piece-by-piece as the budget allowed. Now there's no need to be so patient. There are credit cards and discount stores with items sexier than their price tags. Unlike many outlet stores, Crate & Barrel doesn't have stock that recalls the stragglers left at the bar at last call. It has the odd-colored painted ceramics and bed skirts sans matching sheets, but those aren't the norm. Most shelves hold desirable items at bargain-basement prices. Besides the expected glassware, bar accessories, and dining supplies, the Crate & Barrel Outlet also has furniture for the whole house, linens for each room, and a plethora of magazine racks (does no one read anymore?).
Target, the most progressive of discount stores, has increased its toniness with several new lines of furniture, kitchenware, fancy dining room chairs (some with tony prices still intact), and the Michael Graves collection. The designer offers up slate-blue plastic, brushed aluminum, and honey-colored wood products with lines so sleek and graceful that even the pot scrubbers are a work of art. Target's also amassing enough high-quality drawer pulls and bathroom fixtures to make Restoration Hardware proud in a sensei-to-student sort of way.
You've got to hand it to Borders. Their deep catalog cannot be beaten; to do better you have to go to
Amazon.com, and do you really want to wait a week for a book you want to start reading tonight? Besides Borders also has nice little coffee shops and excellent magazine sections that highlight more than biker and weightlifting titles. They bring in local and regional voices for book readings. As a company, they also have a sorry history of union busting (well-educated clerks who read Marx are responsible), but our political sensibilities are usually soothed by the overall Borders shopping experience.
The plucky Wheeler family has chosen to go up against the Holy Trinity of Dallas' liquor stores-- Sigel's, Red Coleman, and Centennial--in the battle for your booze bucks, and they're doing a nifty job of it with little amenities such as easy chairs and handy reference books in an airy, spacious, light-filled store. Plus, they have nice little tastings on Saturday evenings.
When your budget is shy of enough zeros to call a contractor, check out the salvaged parts, and the few architectural gems, strewn about this junkyard: sinks and counters from the '80s in good-enough shape, lots of wrought-iron fencing, and the odd door and bathtub. Prices are reasonable.
This is not the biggest liquor store in Dallas, and it by no means has the best selection, but the bottom line is, you usually want to get in and out of a liquor store as quickly as possible for fear that someone you know might see you buying bottles of Boone's Farm. At the Centennial Liquor Store by The Village apartments, a favorite stop for hotties, you'll want to hang out and get some face time. Trust.
You can bet that the fiercest Easter bonnets began life here. The ground floor feels like the attic of an ancient, slightly haunted, dusty, dark Victorian house that's crammed to the ceiling with miles of fabric, tiny drawers full of trim, spangles, beads, and a flurry of feathers. Grab a ready-made hat form and let the Carmen Miranda in you come out.
With a hot match at five in the afternoon you learn at three that the old racket badly needs to be re-strung. Not a problem at Dallas' newest racket sports specialty store. In addition to top-of-the-line equipment and accessories, an on-staff master racket technician--for you weekend players that means he's USRSA-qualified, has strung more than 6,000 frames, and knows how to operate something called the Babolat Star 4 stringing machine. While you're waiting, check out the nutritional supplements center or test-drive a few rackets.
It's still a free country, in theory, and your right to own a firearm is still protected. In Texas, it's a cherished right. To exercise this right in Dallas, take a drive to First Call Firearms, where Jerry Carroll will buy, sell, or trade guns with amiability and institutional knowledge. In Texas, gun rights include being licensed to carry a concealed weapon, and First Call offers four-day-long licensing classes ($110) that include lunch at El Chico. The best deals can still be found at gun shows, but for that personal touch and friendly training, First Call is the first choice.
You can always recognize the married couples that don't have kids: They go to dinner and talk all night about their dogs and/or cats as though they're children. They take their animals to things like Dog Day Afternoon at Reverchon Park; they enroll their dog in the Dallas Dog and Disc club, taking great pride in their puppy's second-place finish in the competition (
and she's never even practiced!). We know, because that's us. See, we'd like to have kids, but they're just so demanding. Hey, if we gotta clean up the crap and spend all that money at the vet, at least we don't have to worry about Lily going on a first date or Groucho wrecking the car. (See how proud we are of our animals--we got their names in print.) Animals won't turn on you like children; their idea of revolt is chewing on a shoe, and big freakin' deal. But our Lily doesn't even do that, not since we took our 2-year-old Lab (when she was but a little puppy) to Nathan and Greg Shows at Best Behavior. After a mere three-week stay with this father-and-son team, our little Lily was sitting, staying, and heeling with the best of 'em; we were proud parents indeed. The Shows will not only train your animal, but they will offer refresher courses as well: Mom and/or Dad are expected to show up for class, since owning an animal is a family affair. The Shows boys will even board and train your dog when you're out of town, and they guarantee their work--but only if you do yours. If you don't, it's your loss. Maybe you don't like your shoes. Or your couch. Or your carpet...
Finding a movie for a slow evening at home is an art, not a science. Oftentimes you don't know exactly what you want, and it's better to just roll the dice with a blind rental--or not-so-blind. The staffers at Premiere Video know their stuff and are eager to let customers tap into their institutional knowledge to guide them to a film. Know your genre and give them examples of other movies that flicked your Bic and they'll produce a winner. Most video stores in town are light on strange-o flicks and camp, but Premiere seems to revel in the arcane. If you want to see a new release, head to a big chain. If you want a more unusual movie experience, try Premiere Video.
The new facilities should be operational later this month. Expectations are that this 30-horse stable should continue to provide thoroughly engaging and educational horseback sessions for novices and veterans alike, offering both Western and English styles. The young teachers at this place expend much energy on their group sessions--which start at $150--teaching their students how to ride, care for, and love their horses. Safety is paramount.
Imagine a world where BCBG rubs shoulders with My Michelle, where Calvin Klein stone-washed jeans still sit on the rack and where any variety of teal green men's blazers are yours for the picking. Although you probably can't leave the store for less than $100, you'll walk away with several bags-full. Everything is at least 75 percent off the retail price. Add holiday weekend sales and the savings skyrocket to nearly 90 percent. The selection varies by season, but great bargains are abundant. Pick up women's Ralph Lauren sweaters for $15 and men's RL dress shirts for $5. Most formal dresses are mostly under $40. You can even find Nine West leather boots for $19.98. Expect to stay the entire day, and wear comfortable shoes. You have a lot of ground to cover.
If you like primary colors, rickrack, and bloomers, then this boutique is the perfect stop. While your children will still wear what you buy (a trend that comes to a screeching halt sometime around the age of 8), it's important to exploit these precious years and garb the little darlings in outfits that look appropriately juvenile. At this shop, the clothes look like they are made for kids, not wannabe teenagers. Soon enough, your offspring will be pulling on your purse strings asking for a visit to the Gap or Old Navy so they can appear just like every other overly coddled prepubescent infesting the planet. Enjoy the duck prints and apple appliqués while you still can.
It's located deep in the heart of the gay area of Oak Lawn, and as the whole city/state/country knows, gay people have the best taste in footwear. Period. Sole Kitchen has the best of both worlds: sleek New York City fashions and those boisterous Los Angeles-type boots. The place itself is decorated very nicely, with a '50s motif. It also sells watches and jewelry.
If you're looking for a bit of the exotic, check out Aarti Jewelers. Located in Richardson, this jewelry store features 22-carat gold jewelry from Italy, Turkey, India, and Pakistan. Prices are reasonable and there's a wide range to choose from: rings, necklaces, bracelets, all with unique designs. Rings can be fitted on site.
While it's easy to find gift wrapping services during the Christmas season, good wrappers are a bit scarcer during the rest of the year. Papyrus fulfills this need year-round. The store carries a lovely selection of cards and elegant gift-wraps for a variety of tastes. They can wrap packages while you wait. Next time you need that last-minute birthday gift-wrapped, spend the extra 10 minutes getting it wrapped here. If they hate what you got them, at least they're sure to love the wrap job.
We all want to live in a home that meets our physical and aesthetic needs. Unfortunately, while some of us have talent for putting together stylish interiors, others are still living with the beer-stained plaid sofas from their college days. If the latter describes you, then Richard Schrade can help. Schrade has years of experience with art, antiques, and home accessories and has worked on many large-scale remodeling jobs. His real expertise lies with small-scale consultations. He can come to your home and, in an hour or two, show you ways to redisplay your furnishings and advise you on what to add or subtract to get your home closer to your ideal. (Sorry. That brew-soaked sofa probably won't make the cut.) His background with antiques and contemporary interiors makes him able to work on a variety of requests. His prices are also affordable to the masses.
First off, a personal coach is not the same as a personal trainer. A coach is more of a professional motivator. If you need someone to get you off your duff and help you make progress with your life, this is the man for the job. Gawel has been in this business long enough to tell when someone really wants to achieve their dreams, as opposed to when they're just dreaming. Many times, you may need a good push to get you on your road to personal success. Easy on the eyes and easy on the soul, Gawel can help you organize your life.
With the immigration laws being somewhat draconian when it comes to noncitizens--documented or otherwise--who have committed crimes in their immediate or distant past, a good immigration lawyer had better have a working knowledge of criminal law as well. Fernando Dubove is such an attorney. Not only does he give a damn about his clients, but at a reasonable price, he tries to educate the rest of the Bar about this specialized area of the law. His speeches at legal seminars and his availability to criminal lawyers who are trying to sift through the maze of INS regulations make him a valued legal asset.
This store has a lovely selection of European and American antiques and collectibles. In addition to all the cool loot that your mother would love, it also offers antique hunting tours to Italy that provide the unique opportunity to stay at the palace of an authentic Italian count. It's definitely not your economy tour of Europe, but the price is surprisingly reasonable. For old, affordable stuff with that "antique" look (as opposed to "cheap"), check it out.
Imagine walking into a party and finding you're wearing the same dress as someone else. Now imagine that, like Hanna-Barbera cartoon characters, you're stuck with those clothes
forever. For that matter, everyone else is too, so every time you leave your house, you see at least one other person wearing that outfit. That's what it must be like to have the same tattoo that every other schmoe who pointed at that design on the wall has. It's the barbed-wire ankle band, Looney Toons character, or shoulder-blade rose. It's
everywhere. Pair O'Dice makes its own designs and free- hands requested images, making sure their clients aren't stuck with the Old Navy of ink marks.
This is a good place to browse for magazines before your take-out pizza is ready at Mr. Gatti's (which is right down the street). It has an unbeatable selection of foreign and specialty magazines, but its real advantage over Borders and Barnes & Noble is its coupons, which, after buying 10 magazines, you can use to get one free. It also has a variety of foreign newspapers.
While other stores have aisles filled floor to ceiling with sweet carbonated beverages, Whole Foods market has lanes dedicated only to juice, Mother Nature's cola. Find peach, mango, raspberry, pineapple, coconut nectar, and every other juice man can squeeze from fruit and sell in jars and bottles. There are at least a dozen cranberry blends, including the Holy Grail of fruit beverages--100 percent pure cranberry juice, no sugar, no cocktail. Try finding that next to the shelves of Kool-Aid and Hi-C that other chain stores consider a juice department.
We were forced--we repeat, forced--to watch the wretched, saccharine
You've Got Mail the other night on HBO, and in light of that, we want to be clear about one thing: We've got no problem with big ol' bookstore chains. Love 'em. We want our latte with our magazines and our Oprah Book Club. But we also dig the smaller bookstores, the personal service, having Meg Ryan ask us, "Finding everything you need?" This is especially true when the munchkins are concerned, because so much of children's literature is complete doggie poo. Enchanted Forest Books for Children offers 45,000-plus titles, it has great story-time reading sessions, the staff is helpful, and they'll order books not in stock for you. Plus, if you leave craving a java fix, there's a Starbucks downstairs, so quit whining.
The name says it all. Located on the edge of Deep Ellum, this young store stocks local releases, the catalogs of several independent labels, and some major releases. (Don't expect to find Britney Spears albums, but Built to Spill and Billy Bragg/Wilco are on the top-selling lists.) The yellow wooden shelves with the colored light bulbs house well-kept rows of CDs marked with placards, making it even easier to find that CD you always meant to buy or that one your friend's brother's drummer recommended. Good Records also carries imports and does special orders. Plus, with several band members on staff (Tripping Daisy's--make that Polyphonic Spree's--Tim DeLaughter and Mark Pirro are two of the owners), staff recommendations are always one step ahead of everyone else.
The new Half Price Books location on Northwest Highway, across the street from their older, smaller location, is the mecca of cut-rate book buying. If you don't know what you want, you're bound to find 10 other books you didn't think of before. The music and arts sections are especially edifying, if not comprehensive, and they also boast a solid used-CD and LP inventory. If war is your thing, they have rows of Civil War and World War II books. You like mysteries? They've got tons of those. Political nonfiction your bag? It, too, has its own special section. A national company born in Dallas, Half Price Books should be commended for its strong continuing commitment here.
There are other four-minute $20 dates, but this is the only quickie you can tell your mom about. Only available on Sundays, a little metroplex flyover is a far more impressive date trick than another mimosa-heavy brunch.
It's pricey and there's generally a waiting list, but little Westminster, with its accredited early-childhood learning program, has been serving Dallas youngsters well for 35 years. It's a parent's dream, with small classes and a qualified staff that loves to teach, offering classes for children ages 12 months through kindergarten.
Beefaroni. Canned ravioli. Chunky Soup. These are the mainstays of the diet of the contemporary citizen on the go. Or at least the easy fixin's of the broke and lazy. The best place to pick up these indigestible treats is Fiesta Mart, home of the dollar-can-of-soup and Franco American clearance sales. Look for the routine three-for-a-dollar specials and "family size" aluminum cans the size of Tomahawk missile warheads. Don't forget to pick up some antacids on the way to the checkout counter.
These guys do it right
and fast. This is a quick turn-around stop that provides high-quality custom lab results that the real photographer demands. The staff is experienced, knowledgeable, and eager to help. They also do magic in the field of photograph restoration and repair.
Shelves lined with tins of olive oil, glass cases full of Turkish confection, racks to the ceiling crammed with Arabic-language videotapes, the scents and sounds of Istanbul all around you: This is the place (across the street from Whole Foods) to come if you have a serious hankering for the Middle East.
Even if you've never had the nerve to set foot in the pricey Galleria department store with the Seattle cachet, don't worry, you can now hightail it to The Rack. It's Nordstrom's on the cheap. The store gets daily shipments of goods that aren't moving quickly enough among the well-heeled crowd that haunts the department store, and the company offers them for us,
les miserables, to buy. Who's complaining? High-quality shoes, women's sports wear, dresses, men's clothes--it's all available here. One word of caution: Avoid weekend shopping days. The crowds can be off-putting.
Technology is often a good thing, but not always. Because so many Web sites are designed for obtaining airfares at a good price, we get confused navigating them. Sometimes the fares were not guaranteed, other times the Web site was too slow to book anything. Web sites of the major airlines were not any more user-friendly. That's why we were happy to call up a good, old-fashioned travel agency like The Travel Bureau and let them do all the leg work. The happy surprise was that they were able to obtain tickets for various destinations in the United States that were cheaper than anything we found on the Web.
Whether you're scouring for the best bougainvillea or bulbs, this store offers the highest quality. The regulars who go to this place know it's addictive. The staff is extremely well informed. The plants are gorgeous, thriving, and well kept. The prices are, unfortunately, steep, but, for a good fix, it's worth it.
Grab your Kate Spade and follow us to Harold's, which is updating its styles and colors to the latest fashion trends. The store even totes "vacation from panty hose" as its advertising slogan. Fall's bold prints, (faux) fur-trimmed vests, and beaded Capri pants have given Harold's a fresh, younger look. Check the sale racks for last season's bargains, or even better, visit the Harold's Outlet at the Hillsboro Factory Outlets. No one will know you got it half-price.
