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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.