Best Of Phoenix® 2001 Winners
Shopping & Services
Nestled into a tiny brick building in downtown Phoenix, Sage is a new vintage/antique/junk shop for the eclectic collector tired of scrounging through hope-to-get-lucky thrift shops. The store is actually an old house whose rooms are packed with a collection of curiosities that change weekly, each of them priced to move. Few items cost more than $300, and most are less than you would pay for a shirt and trousers at the mall. From velvet theater ropes and vintage dress forms to gorgeous antique furniture such as a railroad desk, a velvet chaise longue and a 1920s oak file cabinet, Sage has enough conversation pieces and one-of-a-kind items to make treasure-seeking friends jealous. We ogled a vault from a now-demolished Missouri bank that was once robbed by Jesse James, and bought a hundred-year-old "fix-up" mirror that's the envy of our junking pals.
Best Bike Shop
Tempe Bicycle
330 West University, Tempe
480-966-6896
Tempe Bicycle
330 West University, Tempe
480-966-6896
Best Bookstore -- New Title
Borders Books & Music
several Valley locations
Best Bookstore -- Used
Bookman's Used Books, Music and Software
1056 South Country Club, Mesa
480-835-0505
Best Secondhand Store
Buffalo Exchange
227 West University, Tempe
480-968-2557
730 East Missouri
602-532-0144
Best Video Rental Store
Blockbuster
several Valley locations
Best Haberdashery/Music Store
Charles Men's Clothes and Accessories
A few years ago, Charles Nolan quietly opened his shop in the basement of the venerable Luhrs Central Building across from Patriots Square downtown. He had a concept -- the hippest men's shop in town, and that was about it. Advertising budget? Hardly. Neon signs? Not in this lifetime. Word of mouth? You betcha. These days, Charles -- who doesn't even have a phone in his downtown haberdashery -- counts several Phoenix Suns as regular customers, and his clientele is growing by the month, eager to buy his primo Italian suits, his slick shirts, his excellent selection of ties. But Charles isn't just a clotheshorse. A major league jazz fan, he collects CDs, then sells them to his customers for a mere 10 bucks apiece. Finding this gem of a store isn't easy. But once you find Charles in Suite M, around the bend from Tony's Barber Shop, you're in for quite a sartorial treat.
The aromatic world that exists behind the plain-looking façades of this local chain stimulates all five senses, and possibly even your sixth. In what's best described as organized chaos, bins of exquisitely scented candles beckon you to dig and sniff and explore. The on-premises craftspeople work endlessly to turn out high-quality candles with new and unusual fragrances to suit every taste. Explore the nooks and crannies for an eclectic selection of candleholders and treasures brought back from the owner's frequent buying trips. And check out the shop's "container fill" program, which allows you to design your own creation for the price of the wax. Plan to shop early during the holidays, as lines have been known to form at the door of these popular gift-buying destinations.
Although lots of ladies only shop for a new swimsuit once a year, foxy Phoenician women consider bikinis a year-round wardrobe staple. This shop on North Scottsdale Road has the most fun, edgiest collection in town, ranging from modern-day Gidget florals to the barest Brazilian string bikinis, from brands like Body Glove and Bebe. It's hard to pick just one style when you have to choose among satiny blue leopard, neon flames or sparkly camouflage prints. The prices are reasonable enough to leave you with cash to buy a Hawaiian-pattern wrap and some sequined flip-flops, too. If you're feeling exhibitionist, you can even find something suitable for prancing around like one of the babes next door at Babes Cabaret -- a lace and rhinestone g-string with a pair of black patent platform stiletto mules, the classic frilly maid's costume or the naughty plaid schoolgirl mini-kilt, complete with matching plaid thong.
Who gets a rush out of visiting a fabric store? At SAS, the answer is anybody looking for the thrill of a good bargain, the delight of an unexpected find or simply to supercharge the creative juices. Stocked to the rafters with discounted merchandise, this labyrinthine shop is like a candy store for aspiring fashion designers. Dig through bolts of satins and silks, twills and tweeds of every hue. Let your mind wander as you consider 50 different types of lace. Then ogle the incredible assortment of trimmings. Boxes of vintage-look buttons, rolls of shiny ribbons and mesh, barrels full of straight-outta-the-'70s embroidered patches, and various zippers and snaps are there to hook you. We dare you to walk out of the store without a single new idea for a project.
Best Old Tools And New Telescopes
Photon Instruments and the St. James Bay Tool Company
This combination isn't likely to inspire a national chain anytime soon, yet it has the appeal of a toy-filled dream. Tucked inside an inconspicuous lab-like brick building, the wooden, glass-fronted cabinets give this place an Old World flavor that leaps from Galileo to This Old House. In one corner, old planes, chisels, saws, augers and plenty more are carefully displayed; in another are the beautifully cast and finished wood and metal planes in which St. James specializes. Across the store are those magical telescopes, including binoculars, for viewing the far away up close. If you want to talk optics, eyepieces, or the best way to see the next eclipse or that wobbling orb Mars, ask for Warren Kutok, Photon's owner, who's been scouring the heavens for more than 50 years.
Good thing for us that Simon Nisanov left his native Uzbekistan in the early '90s and landed here in the Valley -- we'd hate to have to travel to the former Soviet bloc country just to get a shave and a haircut. And we're pretty sure that we couldn't get one we liked as well from anyone other than Simon or one of his colleagues at this unassuming little shop stashed in a small plaza just behind an old IHOP. Simon and fellow ear-lowerers Arsen and Tatyana know their way around scissor and clipper cuts, beard trims, even straight-razor shaves, and the shop comes fully equipped with all the bells and whistles loved by those of us who prefer a good old-fashioned barber shop to any sort of salon. There's a wall rack stuffed with magazines, kitschy, outdoorsy wall art, corny joke plaques, a TV droning out brawling talk shows, and, of course, pictures of square-jawed models displaying coifs that you, too, can sport. So stop in for a trim. Simon and pals are true Legends of the Follicle.
Michelle Lombardi knows hair. She'll quickly assess yours and, in short order, can turn what might be a mop into a functional, optimally attractive 'do. Michelle offers cuts based on what looks best on you, not on her latest whim, and her always-flattering cuts grow out nicely, too. We know people who fly in from L.A. and San Francisco every few months just for one of Michelle's trim jobs (you know she's good if you can't find a better hairdresser in San Francisco). The added bonus? Unlike many of the people in her profession, Michelle is a charming, down-to-earth working mom who won't trouble you with grating gossip or ask you to be her personal therapist while she's snipping your split ends.
To be perfectly honest, we wouldn't say no to any spa, anywhere, any time.
But even in this rarefied category, there are places that stand out. Take your stressed and tired bones to the Phoenician's Centre for Well-Being (we had to shave points off their final score for the affected spelling, but they still win) and stay all day. Not only are the treatments excellent -- we recommend a "therapeutic" massage at $110 for 50 minutes, despite the ominous brochure warning that it's "not recommended for a first-time treatment" -- but the locker rooms are spacious and invite lolling and loitering. To splurge, try the Sanctuary package -- a body treatment (such as a wrap), a massage, a facial and a manicure/pedicure, at 50 minutes each, plus lunch, for $485, all gratuities included. Do not leave before spending, oh, a good half-hour in the "Swiss" shower. And take a nap in the Meditation Atrium. Sure, you could nap at home, but there's something about that tinkling fountain, the tropical foliage, the terry-cloth robe . . .
For such an unnecessary indulgence, a pedicure can be an awfully routine, ho-hum affair, more like a visit to the dentist that must be patiently endured than a delightful way to play hooky. If one is to spend money on such things, one should leave feeling pampered and a bit guilty. Carrie O'Hare clearly understands this. Her pedicures are like spa treatments, and bear little resemblance to the services provided by the many strip-mall nail factories around town. The lucky subject reclines nearly horizontally in a tilting chair, is given a heated neck pillow and bean bag to cover her eyes (or his -- Carrie does men's pedicures, as well). The lights are lowered, and the rest is, well, nap time -- unless you'd like to converse, because Carrie is lovely to chat with. But no small talk is required; just relax and look forward to great-looking, scrubbed, trimmed and paraffin-dipped toes.
Hair knows no shame. It's a wild and unruly creature that answers to no one and grows wherever it likes, without regard to appropriateness. Unwanted body hair has found a formidable (if gracious) foe in Jennifer Ann Tumolo. Jennifer waxes and tweezes anywhere you want, with a gentle hand and a firm technique, leaving behind a meticulously tended patch of smooth skin. With acute attention to detail, she adjusts both wax and waxing methods to accommodate changes in hair thickness and skin temperature. Thanks to her expert knowledge of skin care (facials are actually her specialty), even the most radical amount of hair removal has little effect on your freshly exposed epidermis. With reassuring words and a professional tableside manner, Jennifer makes body waxing a breeze.
Scottsdale galleries can be daunting for the beginning art collector. But under the direction of Kraig Foote, Art One offers the rest of us wonderful works that don't require either a second mortgage or a working knowledge of who's who in the art world. Representing local artists and students (mostly college students, although pieces by talented high school artists also make their way onto the walls), Art One offers some of the most striking and diverse visual art in the area. Even dyed-in-the-wool art collectors stop by this unusual gallery. And who knows when you'll snag a piece by a budding Matisse for a song.
There's no cooler place to be a nerd. A large computer section and a cafe serving espresso drinks cater to the techie crowd, though the wide selection of everything electric leaves no one empty-handed. Displays practically scream "Try me!" to shoppers searching for appliances, digital cameras, computers or musical instruments. A Fry's drone in a white shirt and tie can be found at every turn, and, with eight home theater and audio rooms to try the equipment, you'll always know what you're getting before you mosey up to the register. To get to a cashier, customers are herded through a maze of impulse-buy fun junk, like chocolate keyboards, 10,000 kinds of batteries, and bargain bins full of computer games. But nothing's as fun as the savings once you finally arrive at the cashier.
With big-deal bong brands such as Zong, Kaos, Chalice and Chong, this shop is a smooth smoker's paradise. Double-sided glass means high quality, and can mean high prices, too -- up to $200, but well worth it for a connoisseur. The shop also has less expensive and almost-as-cool water pipes in several media and an informative and friendly staff to show off the pageant of pipery. Of course, this trippy, 12-year-old trove sells more than pipes. Garments with stitched pockets for stashing keys and other "small personals" hang from treetop racks, alongside the usual whacked-out posters, tee shirts, tapestries and plastic-beaded curtains. To complete the mood, choose from an array of rock-star incense, like the Bob Marley Variety Pack or Grateful Dead rose-scented sticks. Don't miss the 11-hose hookah near the register -- an 11th-anniversary gift last year from famed batik artist and pipe designer Jerome Baker. Careful, though: Insinuating the use of illegal substances will get you a swift kick out the front door.
There's hardly an excuse not to make a day of it at Brass Armadillo, a 40,000-square-foot mall with a cozy diner on premises, plenty of research materials about antiques, and generous daily hours of 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Each of the mall's 600 booths and cases has a distinctive character, and you can gorge your appetite for antiques on items ranging from schlocky secondhand '40s dishware to mint-condition vintage furniture. Don't overlook the rows of glass cases, where you'll find pricey, 200-year-old costume jewelry alongside ratty (but still collectible!) Skipper dolls from the '80s. Prices are reasonable, and the pleasure of the hunt makes this worth turning into an Antique Mall rat.
As soon as that EPT test shows up red, your girlfriends gather with reams of advice: Ginger for morning sickness, Maalox for heartburn, bags of frozen vegetables for swollen ankles. As for stretch marks? There's no scientific prevention, but that doesn't stop our girlfriends from offering up remedies. We're particularly fond of one concoction, passed along by a girlfriend who earned her college tuition behind the counter at Lotions and Potions, one of the Valley's first bath and body shops. She suggested a four-ounce bottle of Lotions and Potions massage oil, mixed with a quarter-ounce of Vitamin E oil. Top it off with your choice from the shop's wide assortment of scents -- everything from strawberry to sandalwood. We can't guarantee it'll prevent stretch marks, but it sure feels great. And as any pregnant woman can tell you, that's a premium worth not passing up.
Last year, the term "BoBo" joined "yuppie" and "Gen Xer" on the shelf of social labels, with the publication of journalist David Brooks' book BoBos in Paradise. BoBo is short for "bourgeois bohemian" -- newly rich people who cling to less moneyed, hippie-esque traditions. You've seen them -- day traders in incense-smelly coffee houses, bankers in Birkenstocks, lawyers in used bookstores.
Home decorating is a great showcase for BoBo-ness, Brooks says. Go with expensive but beat up: chipped antique plates, banged-up coffee tables, batiked bedding. And one of Brooks' favorite examples of BoBo-dom -- the furniture/clothing store Anthropologie, formerly accessible to Arizonans only by catalogue or online -- has come to Scottdale's Kierland Commons, so you can finger the organza curtains and wrought-iron candlesticks in person. BoBo wanna-bes, beware: Anthropologie's goods are shabby in the best bohemian tradition, but the prices are strictly bourgeois.
Magazine junkies like us will go to great lengths to get a glossy fix. That's why Borders isn't just a pit stop but an essential destination for satisfying our craving for periodicals. Sheer variety fuels our shameless addiction. At Borders, we can plan our dream vacation, drool over sports cars, brush up on global affairs or preview Paris' prêt-à-porter, all while flipping through scores of titles. Magazines you can't find anywhere else in town are neatly stacked up next to more common selections. Need a little more time to decide? The Borders cafe is conveniently located adjacent to the mag section, so shoppers can leisurely enjoy an iced latte with their I-D.
Great Caesar's ghost! Did All About Books & Comics really win this category again? Hey, does Lois Lane have the hots for Superman?
A contender long before anyone ever heard of Spawn, Sandman or Witchblade, Alan and Marsha Giroux's fortress of funny books continues to be one-stop shopping headquarters for two generations of Valley comic-book geeks. In addition to thousands of comic titles (both new and used), the store stocks scads of related ephemera: sci-fi trading cards, James Bondabilia, monster-movie merchandise and, well, you get the idea.
Hey, what do you want us to do? Draw you a picture?
When the much-loved but cramped Book Gallery moved across the street to its new location last year, it was as if a handsome prince had been released from a familiar frog. And handsome is the perfect word to describe Book Gallery's new space, which looks like a classic library, without the stuffiness. The staffers are laid-back and friendly, and knowledgeable about virtually every volume on their shelves. Chairs and tables are arranged throughout, for the comfy perusal of merchandise ranging from beautifully preserved first editions and ancient signed hardcovers to more modern, but carefully chosen, coffee-table books. Rows of rich wood shelves with glass doors house the rarest and priciest volumes. Luckily, the store stays open late (10 a.m. to 7 p.m. Mondays through Saturdays, noon to 5 p.m. Sundays), but with virtually every item here a gem, there aren't enough hours in a lifetime to fully explore the treasures of this literary museum.
Memorabilia collecting is built on the sunny premise that yesteryear's omnipresent junk is today's rare gem. That premise implies that the junkier the item was in its own time, the more wondrous it is in the sweet glow of nostalgia. The fine people at Pop Culture Classics understand this. Where else are you liable to find an unopened can of Billy Beer, as powerful -- and rare -- a piece of '70s Americana as you can purchase, for $25? The arcana doesn't end there. Whether you're in need of KISS makeup kits, Chewbacca masks, Doctor Who comic books, UNICEF Barbie dolls or Charles Barkley action figures, this is your one-way ticket to trash heaven. Just don't try drinking that Billy Beer.
Toto, I don't think we're in Blockbuster anymore.
Actually, dogs and Kansas farm girls are two of the few fetishes you won't find on the video shelves of Castle, an XXX-rated Oz catering to every carnal whim this side of the sex-crimes ward. Straight, gay, bi, pre-op, post-op, even libidinous midgets -- if it's bigger, longer, harder and uncut, you'll find it here. Shaved Clam Slurp, anyone?
In addition to the gulp-inducing VHS and DVD inventory (several jillion titles, all for sale or rent), Castle's embarrassment of raunches also includes more pre- and post-show entertainment than you can shake a strap-on at. Who needs popcorn when you've got a lapful of edible panties, flavored love gels, and some of the weirdest-shaped rubber doodads outside of a Firestone recall center?
Used to be that this place called itself Castle Boutique; now it's slickly marketing itself as Castle Megastore. If it were up to us, we'd rename the place KYmart.
Best Place To Buy Something For The Person Who Has Everything
Scottsdale Center for the Arts Museum Store
The gift shop at Scottsdale Center for the Arts is so entertaining that shows and exhibits at the center sometimes seem like a distraction from shopping. High-concept designs for traditional household items (ashtrays, flower bowls, trivets) fill one side of the store, while a children's section in the back invites exploration from all ages (check out the wacky marionettes!). Novelty items (a beaded bookmark, a boxing nun hand puppet), jewelry, musical instruments and a vast collection of hard-to-find jazz and world music have kept us here 'til closing time, stocking up on holiday and birthday gifts for our they-own-everything friends. The staff is friendly, and there's something to fit every budget.
So what happened to the extra flared pants that didn't get snatched up in the rush when today's thirty- and fortysomethings were in high school? More than likely, they're on the racks at Plush Living, labeled "new old stock" because they still have the original tags on them. Plush specializes in Disco, Pimp, Hooker and all that is '70s Baaaad, though occasionally some great '50s and '60s threads turn up here, too. We find it hard to concentrate on shopping, because we really like chatting nonstop with Curtis Gannon and Amy Bowling, the shop's hip proprietors. But we tear ourselves away to check out the upstairs for fetchin' furniture, with the emphasis on Brady Bunch Mod and I Love Lucite. Austin Powers fans will be happy here, as will anyone with a hankering for his old high school wardrobe.
We were bereaved when our favorite cassette tape, an irreplaceable treasure, finally snapped. When we found no listings in the Yellow Pages for audiotape repair, we panicked. Our home repair job (which employed an old pencil and some Scotch tape) was a disaster and, just as we were about to cry, someone suggested Tom Brightwell. This one-man wonder, a retiree with a flair for fixing busted audiotapes, is a best-kept secret if we've ever overheard one. Tom's word-of-mouth, home-based business employs secret but sophisticated technology, and his fair-minded pricing includes the repair to your original plus a tidy back-up copy, just in case.
Best Canine Day Spa
It's a Ruff Life! Dog Daycare and Activity Center
This is the spot for Spot when you can't bear to leave him alone all day or you think he just needs a friend who will sniff his butt. The fact that this daytime-only facility is sparkling clean and odorless is a bonus that greets you at the door. The friendly staff provides a cage-free social opportunity for dogs (the dogs are screened for sociability first), and is serious about the nurturing and loving they dole out. Playrooms have durable tunnels and tug toys, and an outdoor playground includes a "facility" known as Potty Park. Inside, dog-friendly movies are shown in a room with couches, armchairs and beds (not to worry -- if Fido isn't allowed on the bed at home, he's not allowed on the bed at Ruff Life, either). Your pet receives a report card at the end of the day, detailing his behavior. A day (7 a.m. to 6 p.m.) costs $25, a six-hour half day is $17. Discounts are available to frequent visitors.
Best Place To Find An Apartment If You Have A Big Dog
Apartment Experts
Got a golden Lab that ought to wear a drool bucket? A German shepherd that eats couch cushions for fun? Finding an apartment when you have pets, especially dogs, can be taxing. But Tom Mastromatto's company, Apartment Experts, specializes in finding a place in the Valley (as well as in Tucson) that will welcome your precious pooch. He'll even find a home for your hard-to-place breeds such as pit bulls or rottweilers. The apartments pay Mastromatto a commission; the service is free to you and Fido.
Best Way To Feed Your Pet Without Getting Up Off The Recliner
The Pet Pantry
You've just settled onto the couch for a Charlie's Angels weekend marathon when you realize that Rover will be out of food before Farrah Fawcett's 12th swimsuit change. You could get off the couch, get dressed and fight traffic all the way to the local pet-food monolith. Or you could pick up the phone and call the Pet Pantry, wait a couple of days, and open your front door to find high-quality dog food waiting for you in a sturdy white bin. If you're in its delivery area, which includes all of central Phoenix, as well as Paradise Valley, Scottsdale, Cave Creek, Carefree and Fountain Hills, Pet Pantry will bring you canned food, kibble and treats for dogs and cats at prices generally comparable to what you'll find at brick-and-mortar stores. Now if it only delivered beer . . .
Best Place To Watch Your Dog Foam At The Mouth
The Dog Wash
Try washing a large dog in your bathroom tub, and you'll find yourself sitting up and begging for Gina Zoppa's self-service shop. The Dog Wash, which also does conventional grooming, provides all of the materials you need to make Rover clean again: brushing and drying tables, full-size raised tubs, and professional-quality spray nozzles that quickly rinse out one of the many shampoos offered. The management isn't stingy, and patrons are encouraged to rinse, lather and repeat. Following Fido's bath, a super-powered blow dryer disperses and removes all the loose hair and moisture that would otherwise end up on your sofa. The best part, aside from the unbelievably low price tag of $7, $10 or $12 depending on size, is that one of the friendly staff members will trim Spot's nails, gratis. And you get your fifth wash free.
Has your special someone been giving you that "why do you keep giving me these cheap roses that arrive wilted and die in a day" look lately? Community Florist can help you say "I love you" without also saying "I'm a cheap S.O.B." Its $10 roses are big, beautiful, and look like they cost about five times as much. The flowers are wrapped nicely in tissue, not stuffed into an ugly plastic sleeve, and come with a sincere admonition to "never cut the stems with a scissors." The owners are friendly and always seem delighted to discuss the characteristics of each blooming bud they sell. In other words, this isn't your average $9.99 florist. Check out Community Florist when you care enough to give the very best -- but don't want to pay for it.
Did you know that people breed lap goats? Goats that are small enough and so friendly that all they want to do is cuddle, follow you around like a puppy, and nibble at your feet? While we prefer to keep our livestock outdoors, we admit we're charmed by the darling critters at Darlyn Pygmies, a private ranch in Buckeye that breeds, trains, shows and sells pygmy goats. More than 70 goats live here, all pedigreed and registered with the National Pygmy Goat Association. Pygmies are naturally petite, standing between 16 and 23 inches tall. They like to talk, and sound pretty much like cats. They love to have things to stand on. Poop's not a problem -- think rabbit pellets. They don't eat much (ours won't even eat weeds, just alfalfa). And if you're zoned for dogs, a pygmy goat is fine, too. Don't plan on cheap, though. Although pet goats go for $50 to $250, a show goat can cost $500 to $1,000. Not a bargain, but for such a cute new friend, not a baaaad deal, either.
Go-Kat-Go, a time-warp of a department store, is the only retro shop around that will do time travel at your bidding. The husband-and-wife team who run this happening haven can fill your oddest vintage custom order from the '40s on up, often within weeks. We've asked them, just this year, to find very specific items -- from a clunky turquoise swag lamp to a huge plastic fern to the devilishly hard-to-find "Blue Lady" velvet painting -- and they've come through every time. As much as we like placing wacky special orders, shopping for nothing in particular is half the fun at Go-Kat-Go. Furniture, clothes, appliances -- it's all there, and realistically priced. Proprietors Chris Swanberg and Brandi Kvetko may be the only antique dealers in town who'll answer your request for a Patty Duke alarm clock with, "We just got that in!" We never, ever ask, "From where?"
Everybody knows it's the yoga teacher who makes the class, and Candace Rose is a knowledgeable, well-trained and genuinely peaceful instructor. More important, she's a teacher with a sense of humor. Unlike some yoga instructors, who forget that this is Phoenix, not Katmandu, Rose doesn't take herself too seriously. She cracks jokes throughout the class and keeps the spiritual lectures to a minimum. Rose has tailored her set to a North American audience, making the poses easy for the flexibly challenged and the environment relaxed enough for the spiritually insolvent. For anyone who's ever left a yoga class feeling cheated and a little flaky, Rose's $5 yoga hour is a down-to-earth alternative.
Best Way To Shop From Behind The Wheel
Bashas' Drive-Through Grocery
You've arrived at that interminable stretch of the calendar where the mercury has stalled above the 100-degree mark. The only chink in your scheme for never being away from air conditioning or shade for more than 90 seconds at a time is how to do your grocery shopping. All hail Eddie Basha, whose Bashas' at 40th Street and Thunderbird now offers drive-through grocery service. Simply phone in your order (fax and Internet orders are also available) by 10 a.m. for same-day pickup, drive your icy-cool Suburban up to a reserved cabana, and open your window just long enough to utter your name into a microphone. A few moments later, a friendly attendant will load your groceries into the back of your car. All coupons and club card savings apply to this luxurious service, which carries a nominal $4.95 service charge. For those of you who refuse to leave your house at all, delivery service is also available.
Among all the predictable contemporary bargains at this former Disabled American Veterans Thrift Shop, we've discovered cool vintage dresses, nasty '70s Spanish-Med wall hangings, a silver potted plastic tree, and even a pair of blond wood '50s end tables. On our last visit, we found some swinging two-tone wingtips. (So what if they were golf shoes! We just yanked the cleats out!) Cecilia, a wonderful lady with excellent makeup, will comment cheerfully on your selections as she rings them up, and she won't make you surrender your unpriced item "to the back room," where it will never be seen again. More good news for the thrift-minded: Every other Wednesday is half-off day, and seniors older than 60 get 30 percent off every Monday.
When it comes to catching fish, you want big. But for a bait shop, forget the Wal-Marts of the world -- small is good. And small has worked for 20 years for Richard La Porte and his father, Dick, who run Liar's Korner, a bait shop that can barely hold more than a half-dozen customers at a time. Liar's Korner is stocked with all things fishy: rods, reels, stringers and fishing licenses; crank baits, spinner baits, buzz baits and live bait; minnows, waterdogs and high-quality worms shipped in from New York. Fridays and Saturdays are usually crowded (Liar's Korner is on the way to four popular fishing lakes), but early in the week, you'll have the store to yourself. This old-time bait shop is simple and unpretentious, except for the trophies and stuffed fish covering the shop's walls. Most of the awards were won by the La Portes, but the father-son team would rather sell you what you need to catch the big one that got away.
Best Place To Outfit Your Inner Survivalist
Larada's Army Surplus Store
Housed in a bright yellow brick building with blue awnings lined with a long row of white stars, Larada's Army Surplus Store is hard to miss. But once inside, you'll find everything you need for disappearing into the woodwork -- or the woods. Larada's is filled with military gear and not-for-sale displays of military might such as bullets, holsters and non-firing rifles, but what it really sells is survival. Alongside the army fatigues, gas masks and caps emblazoned with every division of the armed forces are lanterns, knives, mess kits, freeze-dried food and boots for any terrain or weather. Upstairs is nothing but tents. While you pick out a parka, you can watch a videotape on the art of camouflage. Surviving a trip through the hodgepodge of gear (Larada's winds around an L-shaped shopping center) is a feat in itself. But once you do, you'll have what you need to survive anything.
Once upon a time, an excited youth with a new model airplane kit could visit any drugstore to purchase "hobby paint" right off the shelf. Today, thanks to social disintegration, such substances are kept under lock and key, lest they be stolen and used for nefarious purposes -- like paint-sniffing or marking buildings with gang insignia. But not at the Hobby Bench, where nostalgia rules. Where else might one find a model kit of the Bates Mansion from Psycho? Or that old standard "Visible Woman" model, with all her internal organs displayed? Neato miniatures and all the requisite railroad-enthusiasts stuff can be found here, along with a wealth of model cars, model-making supplies, and craft items. And yes, you can walk right on up to that big rainbow-hued rack of "hobby paints" and help yourself.
Chances are pretty good that you wouldn't know where to go to purchase a set of comedy bosoms or a papier-mché turd. Take note: Since 1947, Bert Easley's has provided our great state with all variations of rubber vomits, fake cigarettes (great on airplanes!), and phony squished cats. October is the best time to visit, when Halloween masks, reasonably priced life-size skeletons, and wonderfully sick-making foam-rubber body parts and polyethylene organs fill the shelves. Easley's also rents and sells a vast array of costumes year-round, and stocks more than 5,000 rentable costumes on premises. The shop carries a full range of stage makeup, and the counter help will gladly explain how to apply clown white, a fake bolt-in-the-head, or that zany chest-hair wig. Speaking of wigs, this place offers every style imaginable, all of them affordable and displayed for easy viewing. Try doing all your holiday shopping here, just once!
Best Place To Re-range Your Gas Stove
Appliance Service and Warehouse
This is absolutely the place to find that long-sought antique Tappan range the color of scrimshaw, or the O'Keefe and Merritt in its birthday suit of chrome and white enamel. The peeling paint and yellowed window of this gray storefront reveal the shop's devotion to vintage. Words like re-porcelain and re-chrome fall from the tongues of the knowledgeable workers like answers to your kitchen prayers. They'll recondition or fully restore the stove you have, or set you up with one to match the 19-something vintage of your house. You want to decontaminate a range, rejuvenate its "match-lite" ignition, or simply find or fix that lost or broken knob? They do it all. Doubters need only poke their heads in the back workroom, where the carcass of someone's old flame is almost always on the path to renewal.
Mountain and road bikers have long competed for attention, products and services at cycle shops. At Landis, salespeople won't choose sides; its philosophy is equality for all, whether you've got mud in your spokes or highway beer bottle shards in your tire.
This cover-both-sports philosophy won't confuse new bikers: Signs and a helpful staff make clear what each item is intended for. Salespeople can tell you exactly why one mountain bike breaks the bank at more than $2,000, while another sets you back only about $300. If you're female, they'll show you a line of bikes built for women. There are even baby-buggy bikes, so you can tote your tyke. Each of Landis' four stores offers bicycle repairs, and out-of-stock items are happily shipped from other locations. So get your bike, helmet, shoes, gloves or inner tube here, but take the feud outside -- on the pavement, or the dirt trail.
We've been in dressing rooms that have sent us screaming out of the store and straight to the nearest Yellow Pages in search of a plastic surgeon. It's curious that the millions of dollars spent by retailers on marketing research has not led them to this simple shopping truth: If you look ugly in the mirror, you won't buy the stuff you're trying on. (Here's our fancy marketing tip: Tone down the operating-room lighting and give people more than six inches between themselves and the mirror. That'll be a million dollars, please.) Neiman Marcus must have highly paid consultants, because its ladies' dressing rooms are like lovely studio apartments, with lighting suitable for a cocktail party. There's plenty of room to stand way, way back and squint your eyes at your reflection, if you're so inclined. If those mirrors don't make you look good, then you know you'll fare far worse under your office's fluorescent lighting. Buy accordingly.
Most dressing rooms leave us wondering why no one has bothered to mention our sagging chin and jaundiced complexion. Neiman Marcus, on the other hand, only sets the mood for some serious designer dud shopping. These dressing rooms are classically appointed and impeccably clean. An upholstered chair takes the place of the carpeted benches found in most other establishments. A mirrored wall allows you to view yourself head-to-toe without budging an inch, and a three-way mirror in the nearby and very private common area allows you to fully assess whatever assets you may have. What's more, Neiman's roomy compartments lock automatically, and an attentive but never bothersome clerk is always on hand to help you find the perfect fit.
How far do you run? How often do you run? What shoes are you using now? Are you flatfooted? Count on questions like these from the salespeople at Runner's Den. Selling you the right pair from the Den's vast selection is serious business to these clerks, most of whom are runners themselves. (One salesman has logged more than 100 marathons and teaches a community college class in marathon training.) These guys know the heartache (or leg-ache) that comes from shoe-related injuries, and don't want you to end up in, um, those shoes. They'll even make you do a test drive with an outdoor jog or a quick spin around the store. So runners, take your mark and lace your shoes.
Sure, we're slaves to fashion -- but not when it comes to our feet. Give us a pair of clogs or some close-toed Birkenstocks and we're delighted, style be damned!
Turns out, you can have both comfort and style. We were waltzing through life, happy in our brown clogs and our gray Birks, until we happened upon the selection at the Shoe Mill. The shop stocks a wide supply of the black, gray and brown basics, but we could take to the runways in leopard-spotted Danskos, flowered Dr. Martens boots, bright blue Simple sandals -- a rainbow of arch support.
The Shoe Mill has the best selection of comfortable shoes we've seen anywhere. The sandal-clad employees practice what they preach and offer knowledgeable assistance besides. We'd bet our bright red, closed-back Danskos on it!
A return policy at a thrift store? It's true. Savers has one and will issue store credit if you've made a fashion boo-boo. This comes in handy if you're costuming a kid's play, costuming a family, or costuming yourself and realized you should have gone to the dressing room after all, to make sure that spangly sweater set actually fit. Speaking of dressing rooms, here they're abundant and clean. Like the ads say, Savers really is "the thrift department store," and a lot of bargains can be had on its "Dollar Tuesdays" and ongoing half-off weekly color tag sales. This chain consistently shatters all "thrift shop" stereotypes: It doesn't reek; screaming kids are drowned out by piped-in "Everything Old Is New Again" Muzak; and -- because the friendly staff is forever restocking -- there's always something new (and old!) to find.
The clothes here aren't just old, they're insane. Wonderfully, utterly insane. Amiable proprietor Louis Merisola is quick to tell you why: His wife, Linda, is a show-biz wardrobe stylist who outfits actors for films and TV commercials. Which explains why you're likely to find more than one hot-pink marabou peignoir on display at this hip downtown boutique. In addition to new-issue, retro-look togs, Spine offers some incredible vintage items, like garish dinner jackets, shocking layered-chiffon capes, and the swankest period sleepwear and smoking jackets you'll find in town. Prices vary, but the time saved seeking a vulgar solid-gold-sequined trench coat or a Busby Berkeleyesque lamé-lapeled tuxedo is worth a couple of extra dimes.
For many crafty folks, bead parties have replaced paint-your-own-pottery as the creative outlet du jour. If you're looking for materials, head to Beads Galore International, Inc.
Tucked into a small industrial park, Beads Galore is easy to miss -- and easy to skip, you might think as you enter the cramped foyer and are asked to hand over your purse to a clerk as a security precaution. But step inside to a mesmerizing beader's paradise, with every color and touch from inexpensive glass to moderate crystal and ceramic to pricey semiprecious garnets, tourmaline and topaz. Beads Galore also has trappings such as trays and clamps to help you bead properly, and jewelers pliers, cutters, wire and clasps to turn your strands into bona fide jewelry. The friendly staff will assist befuddled beginners. Bead happy!
We've been to enough weddings to know that finding the perfect present for a bride and groom can be excruciating, far worse than buying an elusive Christmas gift for the "person who has everything." We've also seen the pained expressions of newlyweds as they unwrap some God-awful gift that they don't need or want. ("Oh, what a lovely set of crocheted doilies!") Crate & Barrel offers a fresh, modern take on household basics like dishes, linens, silverware and kitchen appliances -- cups and saucers fit for a French cafe, or a Japanese-inspired lamp to give the honeymooners a sexy bedroom glow. And couples can register for enough gorgeous matching furniture and accessories to outfit an entire house.
If such names as Knoll, Herman Miller and Thonet weaken your knees, this Scottsdale franchise of the Seattle store offers plenty of swank seats and remakes of classic modern furnishings to swoon on. It's all posh, with prices to match -- chairs can run you anywhere from $350 for a molded, laminated wood-and-steel one by Arne Jacobsen to $2,300 for Eero Saarinen's womb chair. Owner David Cline, a graduate of the design program at ASU, will feed you the tales behind the designs, like the fact that Charles and Ray Eames first began their patented process of molding compound curves in plywood to supply the Army with wooden splints during World War II. In fact, Cline can sell you one of those splints -- but we recommend something cozier, like the Eames lounge chair and ottoman. And Cline makes house calls, to help you decide which kind of design should go where.
You say your idea of home entertaining doesn't go any further than a keg, a large bag of Cheez Doodles, and a mop? Well, thanks for asking but, uh, we're busy that night. If, on the other hand, you shop at Party City, consider this an RSVP. Where else in town will you find everything (okay, so you will have to hit the liquor store, too) from invitations and tableware to canisters of helium and luau kits -- more than 30,000 party items in all, at discount prices, no less?
And even if you're one of those folks who thinks no social gathering is complete without a rubber mask of WWF honcho Vince McMahon, you're in luck here. But can we take a rain check on that invitation? On second thought, we're busy that night, too.
Let's be clear: The operative word here is hardware. Not gardening supplies, power tools, bathroom fixtures or wallpaper; there are stores that specialize in each of these. But when you really need honest-to-God hardware -- nuts, bolts, machine screws, ball bearings, nails and so on -- you could do no better than to go to Paradise True Value, with its impressive and thoughtful selection. The woman-owned (and mostly woman-staffed) establishment carries hardware in every possible size and material. (Try finding stainless hex cap screws at most places -- go ahead, try.) But the best part is that everything is in little drawers, just the way it should be, and you can buy as many or as few items as you need. The staff is extremely helpful and knowledgeable, but won't insult your intelligence if you know what you're doing and want to be left alone, either.
Nowadays, HTC owner Steve Haworth is better known as a "3-D Modification Artist," famous for epidermis-pushing experiments in extreme body modification such as subdermal implants and penis beads. But Haworth originally established his reputation as a pioneer of safe, sane and sterile piercing techniques. The instruments used at HTC were personally designed by Haworth to be less painful and more accurate, ensuring a relatively non-agonizing experience for your targeted navel, septum, nipple, or whatever. Though HTC tends to be a bit expensive compared to tattoo parlors that offer piercing as a side-order item, wise men opt for spending a little more when what they're paying for includes a guy pointing a sharp instrument in their direction. Think about it.
Plenty of print shops have color copiers out on the floor, but if you're looking for lifelike skin tones, Lena Flores will be happy to do your bidding. She's Alphagraphics' assistant manager and, when she isn't busy answering stupid questions ("Will your color copier make my black-and-white photos come out in color?"), she'll be delighted to assist you with your custom enlarging, photo Christmas card, or wedding invitation design. Lena has improved more than one commercial artist's portfolio with her skillful assistance, and proves that a fancy $40,000 color copy machine is only as good as its operator. Tired of being waited on by bored, surly college students at your neighborhood copy house? Lean on Lena.
Toys, dog accessories, books and novelty items fill this smartly appointed store, where our four-legged friends are always welcome to sniff barrels of bulk treats and sampler gift boxes. But it's Three Dog's baked goods that get your doggy drooling. They look so yummy, we want to taste them, too. The most endearing feature of Three Dog Bakery is the weekly Yappy Hour, in which man's best friends (many of whom arrive at this Biltmore shop stuffed into the Louis Vuitton handbags of society ladies) and their owners gather to swap stories, enjoy fresh-from-the-oven goodies, and listen to canine-themed comedians and speakers. Occasionally, a certified pet psychic is on hand to assist in better reading the inner workings of your dog's psyche -- although it won't take a professional to tell you what Rover's thinking: "I'll take a dozen rawhide chews to go!"
Best Remedy For "I'm Too Pooped To Cook"
Delicious Deliveries
Sure, most newspaper food sections will tell you that you can make a great meal in 10 minutes or less using what "everyone" already has in the kitchen. But we can't figure out how to make five-star fettuccine with leftover ketchup packets from our McDonald's Happy Meal. So we just let the experts do their thing: We call Delicious Deliveries, which has contracted with participating restaurants to deliver a fine meal, for menu prices, plus $4.49 per order within a four-mile radius of the restaurant, and tip. Just a few of the participating restaurants include Bamboo Club, Royal Barge Thai, Avanti's, Don and Charlie's, Jewel of the Crown, Malee's on Main, Mr. C's Chinese, Miracle Mile Deli and George and Dragon English Pub. With service like this, you'd have to be a ding-dong to fire up the stove. The only ding-dong we want is the sound of the doorbell.
It's hard to get good incense now that Jerry Garcia is gone and the Grateful Dead aren't touring. We used to pick up a year's supply of our favorite cones and sticks from Deadhead parking-lot vendors, but those days are over. Well, almost. We've found a swell, smelly stash at Hippie Gypsy, an upscale head shop busting at the seams with black-light posters and clove cigarettes and water pipes. Entire walls of this fragrant shop are devoted to displaying incense and sages, along with a vast array of paraphernalia for safe burning. The store's homemade incense is of superior quality, and the commercial versions aren't bad, either. (There's even a line called Liquid Blue Grateful Dead Incense with fragrances like "Campfire Jam" and "Fractal Steal Your Face.") And unlike the Dead show vendors, the clerks at Hippie Gypsy can actually make correct change and focus on their clientele without seeing double. Whoa, dude!
Best Little Plastic Stuff You Didn't Know You Needed
ABC Cakes, Decorating and Party Supplies
More fun than a Toys "R" Us, the often-bizarre aisles of ABC Cakes are our favorite place to find party favors, stocking stuffers and just plain goofy weirdness. They've got the full range of cake pans, decorative icing tips, and those papery things called glassines (they go between your cake and the big pink bakery boxes sold on the same rack). But ABC's "Toppers" aisle is the real icing on this proverbial cake. Here's a box full of little plastic African-American infants. There's a wee '50s barbecue. Look! A tiny zoo with little cages and trees. And a handful of Barbie-size champagne bottles! How about a "Sexy Doll," a little vinyl naked lady in a teeny teddy? (Or, if budget is a concern, opt for the "Mini Sexy Doll," also available in brunette.) Or a plaque bearing a hooded death mask and the legend, "I Only Came for the Cake!" We could neither fathom nor pass up a banner reading, "Caution! Wedding Cake Being Delivered!" Let them eat cake. We'll play with the toys!
Best Place To Buy A Shirt With The Name "Chet" Embroidered On It
Johnny's Used Work Uniforms
The sign says "Johnny's Used Work Uniforms," but we'll settle for "My Blue-Collar Heaven." A working stiff's dream haberdashery, this would-be New Wave warehouse is crammed to the rafters with industrial-style shirts, smocks, pants and jumpsuits, many emblazoned with "can-I-be-of-service-ma'am?" monikers like "Chet," "Billy Bob" and "Flo." All pants are $3, shirts are $2, and if your name doesn't happen to match up with anything on the rack, the store carries dozens of name tags that can be sewn on for an additional $1.75. Whether you're suiting up for your new gig at the gas station or greasy spoon, or just wondering what to wear to the Devo reunion, Johnny's has something with your name written all over it.
The name of Michelle Zekanis' shop may suggest architecture or interior decorating, but her appointment-only business is about creating fresh and silk flower arrangements for weddings large and small. Zekanis favors arrangements designed by the customer -- and within the customer's budget. Photo albums display flower-adorned ice sculptures, floating pool bouquets and elaborate flower arrangements that brides have designed themselves, right down to the length of each flower stem. The only thing Zekanis insists on is that you not throw the crowning piece of her work, the bridal bouquet, during the flower toss. She has a separate, smaller bouquet for that.
Imagine being a guest at an afternoon tea in the Hamptons, where your hosts happen to be a friendly, knowledgeable and accessible group of gardening professionals who are eager to share their love of flora. That's what a stroll through Berridge is like. It has all the traditional aspects of a well-stocked nursery: long flats bursting with annuals, herbs and vegetables, bare-root roses in season, native landscaping plants, succulents and indoor tropicals. But this carefully tended nursery at the base of Camelback Mountain also offers an unparalleled combination of charm and expertise. You'll find rare plants here, but no sniffy attitude: If you don't know a begonia from a bougainvillea, an affable staffer might point you to the miniature amphitheater, where a variety of demonstrations and lectures are hosted for both the novice and seasoned enthusiast. Berridge, established in 1938, gets a two green thumbs-up rating.
Best Place To Get Into A Lather
Bailiwicks Soap and Sundries
This relatively new addition to north Scottsdale is a quaint shop with a turn-of-the-century general store ambiance. Rows of self-serve bins display bath salts and beads, as well as potpourri and a whimsical line of bubble-bath confetti (a confetti that cleans up after itself -- what a concept!). Bailiwicks also carries a full line of perfumed and highly moisturizing soaps made from stuff like goat's milk and shea butter, as well as your standard glycerin and cocoa butter bars. There's even a line of bar soaps for your dog. Sample a rich selection of body products including scrubs, lotions and lip balms, then sign up to make your own. Bailiwicks offers a variety of classes in soap-making and home spa products, and will even arrange a private soap-sniffing party in your home.
No doubt there are many criteria that could be used to determine excellence in tire shops, but how about free tire repairs? While this particular Discount Tire outlet certainly charges for most of its services, the exceedingly cheerful and friendly staff has been known on many occasions to quickly patch tires without charging. This sort of gesture is sadly antiquated, given the current "customer is always wrong" service mentality. Also noteworthy is that, when all those Ford Explorers needed replacements for their Firestone death tires, this Discount Tire was the only place we found that a) did not mention a four-month waiting list and b) actually had the needed tires in stock. And to tread on a politically incorrect non-tire criterion for those who appreciate a good-looking guy: Virtually all the men who work here are handsome as heck. So you won't get tired of watching while you wait.
Super chefs like Julia Child and Jacques Pépin can't be wrong. If Sur La Table is good enough for their culinary contraption needs, then it's good enough for us. This is where the pros stop to shop, do demonstrations and share their secrets with regular home chefs like us.
We fill our baskets with bread machines, coffee mills, waffle makers, brioche pans and cookbooks. We're sold on cedar smoking planks, Majolica corn dishes, scales and sauciers. And treats tempt by the ton: specialty chocolates, coffees, teas, cookies, mustards and marinades.
Let's just put it on the table. It's the best.
Laundromats are typically best approached with blinders on: Don't look too closely at the floor; try to ignore your surroundings and your fellow launderers; don't subject your clean laundry to the folding tables and counters without disinfecting them first. Although doing laundry may never be a pleasure, Spin Cycle at least makes it possible to clean clothes without lowering one's hygienic standards. This is a squeaky-clean facility with bright signs marking double, triple and quadruple loaders. Folding tables are immaculate and plentiful, and several even have televisions built into them. Dryers are efficient and almost always available. The facility also offers Ms. Pac Man and a few other classic arcade games to amuse you while you wait for your duds to dry. There's even Internet access available at 10 cents a minute. If you're too caught up with all these amenities to be bothered with doing laundry, a reliable Fluff-and-Fold service is available on the premises.
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