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.