Shopping & Services

Now that Phoenix has "made it," we're all searching for the little things to help round out our city's Mid-Century Modern aesthetic. And See Saw is here to deliver. Run by six young and talented designers and boasting two massive old-school letterpresses, See Saw is more than an Urban Outfitters-style paper factory. Its cards and calendars capture a clean, minimalist design that stands out in a very powerful but understated way. And it's a heavy hitter, to boot. Boasting a client list that includes the much missed Palatte restaurant and Mayor Phil Gordon, these designers are quickly establishing themselves as the people to go to in Phoenix for hip and unique cards, invitations, or branding. Their blog is pretty cool, too.

So you've run out of gouache and if you don't get some fast, your artistic muse will leave you. No worries. Head to Ash Avenue in Tempe and talk to the good people at Wet Paint. Whether you're in need of blue Prismacolor pencils to lay down the sketches for your next Web comic or bamboo brushes to practice Japanese calligraphy, you'll find Wet Paint well stocked. Also check out the posters and fliers near the store's entrance for events around town targeting art enthusiasts. As for that muse, it comes and goes, but maybe a few peeks at the art mags on display at Wet Paint will give you a jolt of inspiration.

Painters have it easy when it comes to sourcing materials. Paints and canvases are available at art shops, craft stores, even Wal-Mart. On the other hand, if you specialize in "found object" or recycled art, you'll likely be stuck scouring back alleys and diving through smelly dumpsters, unless you're in the know about The Town Dump, a funky backwoods store hidden in Cave Creek. The dilapidated red shack is chock-full of treasures, from cowhides and bear pelts to printed textiles, antique hardware, and vintage tin ceiling tiles. Need an authentic lasso for a Wild West-themed project? Castoff rebar bits or iron scrollwork for welding? A 7-foot-tall wooden cross for your giant Piss Christ knockoff? Yeah, it's all here. Grab some funky estate sale castoff and display it in a gallery, à la Marcel Duchamp's Fountain — just don't expect us to buy it (literally or figuratively) as fine art.

For those who lust after art and craft supplies, there is only one place you need to visit to completely load up. Sorry, but it ain't fancy. The good news, though, is that there's likely one in your neighborhood. Dollar Tree dollar stores (and we're not talking about just any dollar store; it's gotta be a Dollar Tree) are the absolute best for basic art supplies. They have paint, markers, poof balls, and stickers as well as pads of paper, rulers, scissors, tissue paper, crayons — you get the idea. And it's all dirt-cheap. If you have an art studio or just a kitchen table, run out and stock up so you're ready when the creative spirit strikes you next.

Ready yourself for Project Runway status by learning how to sew at this cute-as-a-button shop in Phoenix. Bernina Connection offers "bring your own project" open sessions on nights and weekends; just bring snacks to share and come ready to giggle with the local gals. Don't worry about the fact that you can't find a Jo-Ann Fabric in central Phoenix to save your life — Bernina sells all the fabric and notions you'll need. Classes for all skill levels are offered, so get on down there and sew yourself a vintage apron or a recycled T-shirt quilt.

Ready to bust out on a DIY project using some vintage or vintage-looking fabric? If you haven't been to Tempe Sales, get yourself over there. The store carries everything you need for your upholstery projects and then some — not only fabric, but also vinyl and leather in every groovy shade. They even have feathers, trims, and pompoms on string. New material arrives weekly (who knows where they find this stuff?) and here's the best part: fabric bolts at $1 and $3 a yard; just head to the back room to find them. Now you have no more excuses: Get out there and get your DIY on!

We love that arts and crafts are in vogue, and we're always looking for fresh ways to get our maker fix. If you or a crafty friend want your pupils to dilate, just stop by the enormous Beads Galore brick-and-mortar store. Sure, its online shop probably has what you need with a click of a mouse, but a Web-based purchase won't ever match the satisfaction of running your fingers through a zillion beads. Started in 1986 by Norman Lawitz, Beads Galore is now shepherded by his son Bernie. His passion for beads and everything you need to make jewelry also emanates from the helpful staff there. Bead material ranges from the simple (plastic and glass) to the exotic (Swarovski crystal and bone), so you can keep your jewelry real or make it as eye-poppingly gaudy as you wanna be.

As one Crop Girls customer pointed out on our most recent visit, scrapbooking is the one crafty hobby that people seem to stick to — as evidenced by the fact the store is always packed. We'll travel clear across the Valley to go to Crop Girls, which has the best selection of vintage paper and stickers in town, and to pick the brains of partners Crista, Donna, Christina, and Pamela, who are always in the know about the latest scrapbooking convention.

Outside, the shop's an ugly beige mess; inside, it's a haven of pretty lime-green walls, crafting stations, and rows and rows of paper, stamps, stickers, and scrapbooking kits neatly organized and labeled. We've recently scored clear stamps for making wedding invitations, baby-themed paper in star shapes, Distress Ink, and our favorite find — Jen Wilson's "The Ride" paper, which has cool scalloped edges in vintage-y orange and a pattern of old station wagons to match. The Crop Girls offer classes several times a week, so you'll know how to use those supplies, and there's also a unique selection of Aussie scrapbooking mags that Crista — whose accent indicates she's a native — swears by for ideas.

It's 10 p.m. on a Saturday and your crafty self is stuck home with nothing to do. You've already thumbed through the latest Martha Stewart Living. Twice. You watched reruns of HGTV's The Carol Duvall Show until you wanted to hot-glue your eyes shut. Yeah, we've been there. Thankfully, there's The Craft Retreat, an adorable little scrapbooking and pottery-painting shop in Glendale that hosts late-night "Crop Till You Drop" and "Paint Till You Faint" sessions, from 6 p.m. to midnight several times a month. For less than $20, you can score dinner (usually pizza or sandwiches), a drink, and, most importantly, some instant crafting BFFs. You'll have to bring your own supplies, or you can purchase unpainted stoneware or trendy paper, decals and photo corners from Craft Retreat's stock at 10 percent off. But considering the alternative could involve using your craft punch to cut a heart-shaped chunk in your hair out of sheer boredom, we think it's so worth it.

Ever been "finger-wagged" by one of those serious-as-cancer security guards at the Phoenix Art Museum? You know, you sneak in for a closer look at one of the paintings, and the guard is in your face, index finger zipping back and forth like a windshield wiper? Hey, it's their job; we get it. It's just a bit Big Bro for our taste.

Our taste, in fact, runs more to the intimate and the hands-on, and that's why we love this gallery-slash-emporium, founded in 2007 by Jane Reddin, a retired partner at the law firm of Lewis and Roca. Inspired by the Arts and Crafts movement of the late 19th century, Reddin carries only handcrafted goods by artists and artisans fed up with shoddy, mass-produced wares.

But don't expect Grandma Moses crap. In addition to generally excellent visual art, you'll find touchable treasures such as kitchenware, furniture, clothing, jewelry, garden goods, door stops, fused-glass business-card holders, blown-glass beer mugs, hand-bound photo books, handmade soaps, organic-cotton baby blankets, vases, rugs, sake sets, mosaic-tile mirrors, and night lights.

About the only thing you won't find is a finger-wagging sentry.

Kraig Foote had a brilliant idea. He invited students to sell their art at a gallery on high-end Marshall Way in Scottsdale. The students get a start, the customers get a bargain. Genius, right? We think so, and obviously so does the market — Foote has teetered, for sure, but he hasn't fallen, as so many of his fellow Marshall Way-ers have in the past year. We wish him and his artists the best of luck moving forward.

Flowers are overdone. Edible Arrangements look a little creepy. So when you care enough to send the very best, send cookies! Urban Cookies creates adorable care packages for any occasion under the blazing sun. Each brown box is customized with a design of your choosing and squared off with a fanciful ribbon. As for the contents, you can't go wrong. There's the dark chocolate walnut coconut-rolled oat cookie called the Urban, a milk chocolate and molasses brown sugar creation called the Simple Urban, a coconut-pineapple dream known as the Urban Tropic, and the Urban Trail, which somehow manages to involve almonds, sunflower seeds, brown rice crisps, oats, and raisins. Gift packages start at $25 for eight cookies. Um, did we mention we just broke our pinkie toe and could use a little TLC right now?

From the professional pastry chef to the neophyte fondant user to the 6-year-old looking for anything with Elmo on it, ABC has it — and a pretty pink bakery box to put it in. We're pretty sure this place carries every Wilton product on the market; you can find cake toppers for every holiday (and, yes, aisles devoted to cartoon and TV characters, including the furry red monster); and we've been known to spend way more time than should be allowed staring at the dozens of varieties of sprinkles. In the end, you may go running home to Betty Crocker, but you can decorate her cake in style, thanks to ABC, and no one will have to know.

Don't laugh at us, but we needed a new meat thermometer. Our heart was set on the Redi-Fork Digital Probe Thermometer with Detachable Tines and Rapid Read TipTake, but who wants to pay retail for such a high-end item? We certainly didn't, so we headed out to Le Gourmet Chef and almost wished, once we arrived, that we hadn't. But only because we wound up with a new set of galvanized cookware and some once-pricey oven mitts we would never had bought if they were full price. This place is like a gorgeous museum of all things cookery, from tiny sugar cube tongs to electric griddles, and everything at bargain basement prices. Our meat thermometer is magnificent, and it cost us less than half what it would have anywhere else. Definitely worth the drive to Anthem. We're going back!

The only confusing thing about this amazing pointy emporium is its name: Phoenix Knife House is located in Scottsdale. Geography aside, everything about Eytan Zias' knife shop makes perfect sense. Zias is a former chef whose love for all things sharp led him to open a store that also offers cookbooks, whetstones, and chef's uniforms. But it's the dozen specialty lines of cutlery — including rare Masahiro and Misono knives — that most folks come here for. That and the even rarer service of by-hand knife sharpening that Phoenix Knife House offers. Which makes this place (dare we?) a cut above the rest.

After Googling the daylights out of "where to buy smoked paprika," imagine our delight in discovering that the most-recommended online spice shop boasts one of its 41 worldwide retail outlets right here in Scottsdale. With soft green walls and clever crate displays housing spices from around the world, Penzeys Spices has created a playground for cooks. From three varieties of saffron to whole star anise to "double vanilla" extract, there are aromatic samples of every item throughout the store.

Who knew Ceylon cinnamon smelled so vastly different from its Vietnamese counterpart? Peppered throughout the store are notepads free for the taking, serving up recipes like "Festive Mural of Flavor Turkey Dinner" and "Tsardust Chicken Thighs." We expected the location and the specialty nature of this shop to equate to stress on the wallet, but au contraire. Penzeys' spices and extracts come in a variety of sizes and in bulk, and weigh in cheaper, ounce for ounce, than the blander grocery store stuff.

If Viagra isn't your bag, maybe damiana leaf is. The Mexican-grown herb's one of many supposed aphrodisiac herbs available at Chakra 4, a shop chock-full of bulk herbs for just about any ailment. Patrons can pick from hundreds of herbs, including astragalus root (supposedly an immune booster), lycii berries (an alleged anti-inflammatory), chrysanthemum flowers (for tasty teas), and deer-antler powder (for God-knows-what). And if you don't know what herbs you need, the staff at Chakra 4 is well versed in New Age medicinal brews and tinctures and will be more than happy to help out. The store also includes a variety of mushrooms, dried berries, and ready-made tinctures and teas.

There are just a few tasting grounds for serious gourmets in the Valley, and we've discovered a new hot spot. Cucina Olive Oils does just two things but does them with panache: gourmet olive oils and vinegars. Huge vats line this quaint, Tuscan-themed boutique, and there are tiny, plastic shot glasses for tastes. How about a Meyer lemon olive oil blended with a fruity black currant balsamic for a fresh summertime vinaigrette? Owner Chrissy Guglielmo encourages customers not only to sample the vast international selection but to combine flavors for the full experience. Cucina also offers regular cooking classes and demos for a small fee. Learn how to make a strawberry balsamic chocolate truffle and take home the tangy main ingredient.

Not only does this indie serve some of the best-brewed pick-me-ups in the Valley, but it also offers its bomb-diggity coffee beans for sale. Some of our faves include the fancy-pants Black Market Espresso, with its hint of grapefruit (sounds yucky, but it's fantastic), and roasts from Brazil and Guatemala. The shop, housed in a warehouse-like space, also sells goodies for the home brewer, such as straightforward French press coffee makers to more elaborate espresso machines.

If Lola Coffee seems familiar, that's no surprise. It may remind you a bit of Lux, a coffeehouse down the street that originally was owned by Daniel Wayne, the same guy bringing you this latest offering. Lola's got big tables, comfortable chairs, lots of light and delicious, fresh-roasted coffee. The cherry on this coffee-flavored sundae? Fresh baked pastries from Danielle Librera, formerly of Sweet Pea Bakery. Her peanut butter and jelly cookies are the best, and we bet you can talk the friendly baristas into forgoing the coffee and selling you an ice-cold glass of milk.

We go there every Sunday morning, for a bunch of different reasons: We love the massive remodel of the place, which turned the former hippie-dippy Willo House into a sleek-but-still-cozy coffee shop that feels like someone's well-appointed home. We're crazy about the quiche and the tasty baked goods and the private rooms where we can drag a group of friends for a quick, caffeine-fueled wake-up party. Did we mention how good the coffee is? Strong and dark and always available in tasty blends and two strengths. You'll find us draped over one of the big leather sofas in front of the fireplace on any Sunday, and occasionally we sneak back during the week for one of Hob Nobs' yummy salad-and-sandwich combos.

Appearances, as they say, can be deceiving. For proof, look no further than Cabin Coffee. Before walking into this north Glendale java place, we expected the usual coffeehouse decor pastiche of leather easy chairs and faux cherrywood furniture, with maybe even a few Ansel Adams framed photos hanging on the wall for good measure. Boy, were we mistaken. As its rugged-sounding moniker portends, the interior resembles a rustic mountain lodge, complete with a fireplace, actual logs, and mounted deer heads. (It's quite a difference from the taupe-drenched, desert-landscaped Fry's strip mall that houses this demitasse den.) Mercifully, you won't have to choke down a tin cup of muddy, foul-tasting cowboy coffee, like you'd get at your family's cabin. Instead, the myriad espressos and cappuccinos are presented in artful — even elegant — fashion (their baristas actually won awards for their joe-making skills). More than a dozen varieties of beans are ground hourly, with just as many brands of teas also served. The standard selection of iced and blended beverages is also available for purchase.

A bustling yet intimate gathering place that attracts an eclectic crowd of old cowboys (or city slickers pretending to be old cowboys), businesspeople, tourists, hipsters, and other riff-raff to the main drag in this small-town oasis. Open every morning at 6:30, the popular java joint offers a front porch with a great view of things, as well as leather couches and chairs on which to kick back and work on your laptop, courtesy of the miracle of wireless. The coffee, which is roasted right in Cave Creek, is delicious, as is a breakfast menu that features oatmeal and their aptly named "Big Ass Burrito" — eggs, green onion, potatoes, cheese, salsa, and a meat of your choice in a tortilla. As for the "wine" part of this shop's name, well, you'll have to wait 'til 5 p.m. before we get to that.

Oh, brother! There are a few reasons we fell in love with this place from the moment we saw it. First, it's run by easygoing 40-something siblings Bruce and Brian Bergeson, whose personable nature is kinda infectious. Then there's the fact they chose a deliciously enchanting cottage located smack dab in the middle of Gilbert's historic downtown (practically inches away from Joe's Real BBQ) in which to house their caffeinated cooperative. Oh, yeah, and the coffee's pretty damn good, too. And it should be, considering that they roast and grind their own freshly imported beans — which are organic, to boot — on the premises daily. The result: the richest cup of joe or café Americano we've tasted in a long time. After a few cups of the Bergesons' brand, we're ready to re-organize our CD collection, repaint the house, and take a brisk round-trip walk to Prescott.

The marriage of caffeine and yoga may seem strange. However, such a bold combination can make a traditionally comatose area worth visiting more often. This downtown Mesa spot formerly known as Coffee Talk pretty much looks the same — the wedding-day-like front patio still beckons visitors to come inside the historic two-story house — but the philosophy is much different. Upgrades include a more artisan-focused menu that includes a hummus plate, organic teas, and a smattering of espresso drinks, as well as a seven-day-a-week schedule of yoga classes for both the hardcore practitioner and the downward-facing-dog newbie. Overall, the entire feel of the joint is much lighter. Must be all that finding-your-center stuff.

Sure, there are a few indie coffee house options in downtown Tempe. But if you're willing to drive a bit south just past U.S. 60, you'll find the totally-worth-the-trek SOLO Café. Open for almost two years now, this seven-day-a-week space serves up some mean and tasty espresso drinks as well as a bunch of loose leaf teas. In case the beverages and free Wi-Fi aren't reason enough to procrastinate, there's a pretty cool library and a little television that plays DVDs. There's also a community night for musicians on Wednesdays.

The best part of waking up is kicking that can of stale-ass "coffee" to the curb and getting a cup of the good stuff. Where do we go? In Scottsdale, you'd best believe it's Village Coffee Roastery, where the coffee isn't just delicious; it's scientific. The fine roasters at VCR have "combined art with modern science to produce coffee that enhances the natural flavor of the bean." We're not sure what scientific techniques they apply to their coffee-brewing process, but we are positive that we feel a little less awkward wearing our lab coats when we stop by.

The thing about being a dog is that you're subject to the will of your owner. Sure, you can bark and whine, but you're going to be stuck wearing a pink fuzzy sweater and eating tofu dogs if your master demands it. Whimper.

Good thing there's Wag N' Wash, where owners can pamper their pooches with a bubbly shampoo and bakery treats that look just like the human food Fido's always trying to score under the table. The store stocks tons of all-natural kibble, from Active Care to Nature's Variety, plus grain-free brands for sensitive tummies and a fridge filled with raw food.

Medicines, bones, treats, and fuzzy toys are also plentiful, and the bakery section is one of the largest we've found, with liver brownies, peanut butter pie, and quiches that almost look good enough for us humans to eat.

We have absolutely nothing against PetSmart. The local favorite is a good corporate citizen and a great place to shop for everything from dog food to a new pet fish. But Oliver & Annie is to PetSmart what a stylish little clothing boutique is to Target: a small, lovely complement. This tiny north-central Phoenix shop — tucked into the same oh-so-cool strip as Lola Coffee and Haus — smells good, looks good, and offers a carefully selected array of products. We're talking boutique pet food brands, healthy treats, toys made of organic cotton . . . Yes, you will spoil your pet here, but the place is so fabulous, you'll feel chic (not guilty!) while you do it. And trust us, we have yet to meet a single regular customer without at least a tiny crush on the owner.

Oh, Frances, how we love you. Actually, we never knew you, because you are Georganne Bryant's late grandmother and the namesake of her north-central Phoenix boutique, which in just three years has become a retail mainstay in that neck of the woods. Bryant stocks her little shop with cool women's clothes, gift-perfect baby goods, and irresistible housewares. We always swear we won't, but every time we go, we manage to walk out with at least one piece of jewelry. Hey, we're shopping local. Supporting the economy. Feeding a dangerous habit. (Whoops, got a little honest with that last one.) And somehow, it just feels extra-good to shop at Frances. Bryant is the city's head cheerleader — created the "Love Phoenix or Leave Phoenix" T's you see around town, co-sponsors an indie craft fair at the holidays, and helped bring Faythe Levine's Handmade Nation documentary to Phoenix earlier this year. No, we never met the real Frances, but we still love her for having a granddaughter with such a good heart and such great taste. We bet she'd be awfully proud.

Steve and Andi Rosenstein are big thinkers, which is good, because they've got 15,000 square feet of space to fill, and the Anchor Manufacturing Building on Central and Lincoln is their new project. Built in 1928, this historic spot has housed everything from a car dealership to a garage for city buses to a beer distributorship. It's currently home to their clothing label, R&R Surplus, while they pick up hipster design cred by hosting Kontakt Magazine parties and the Phoenix Contemporary Design Fair. But their big plans include "The Duce," its name derived from their historic neighborhoods' start as a produce district. The Duce will be home to a bar, a restaurant, a produce stand, a vintage bike shop, and an all-vinyl record store. Set to open in November of this year, that sounds like the kind of downtown indie mini-mall we so desperately need. Kudos and godspeed, Rosensteins. The 'Nix is a labyrinthine mix of complex building codes, regulations, and good old-fashioned red tape, the kind of Gordian knot untied only by visionaries. We can't wait for The Duce to be The Done.

The plush linens, vintage baubles, and flirty sundresses at this chic boutique practically sell themselves, but owners Kristin and Dan Alber and their creative staff really want you to get "blissed out." They've got craft kits and supplies for domestic divas to make everything from felt cupcakes (these make adorable pincushions!) to fun printed aprons, and the store's Blissful Living Studio offers classes on jewelry-making and sewing romantic fashions. The blissful spirit is also contagious on the store's blog, which highlights romantic accessories and store sales and offers tips for a happier life. There's even a Blissfully Traveled magazine and an annual Fall Blissfest street fair with live music, antiques, and craft vendors. All this blissful branding is enough to give guests a serious retail high, without any pharmacological assistance.

Don't let the cutesy name fool you — this fun shop is aimed at the tattooed, tough-as-nails set who adore vintage threads and elbowing each other on the flat track. Pink House started out as a furniture shop, but gradually transformed into a funky fashion-forward boutique with about a dozen vendors, including Happy Hippie Resale, Harley Quinn & Ivy, and the deliciously awesome Pink De­Ville, whom you'll find pimping hair flowers and retro aprons with pink kitties at roller derby bouts and on First Fridays. Love Sailor Jerry? The shop's selection of vintage tattoo prints is awesome, and they're not just on baby T's. Look for silky embroidered tattoo dresses, cool A-line skirts, and tight, polka dot tube dresses from Elegantly Wasted that'll have you channeling your inner bombshell in no time.

We just assumed, based on the chic little cocktail dresses in the window of this two-year-old central Phoenix clothing shop, that Rowdy Boutique would be a bit too chi-chi for our tastes. Thank God for second impressions: A friend told us about Bag Dayz, and we've been regulars ever since. Buy something at Rowdy, and you'll get a free canvas tote — and that tote will serve as your entrée to once-monthly Bag Dayz, where not only are the sales to die for, but you get a free accessory (one month it was super-cute gardening gloves!) to boot. Free stuff? What could possibly be a better reason to shop?

Ever notice how some boutique shops rotate stock so infrequently that their selection is as stale as a week-old doughnut? That's why we love MADE, whose fresh stock has yielded new treasures every time we've popped in for First Friday. This artsy little shop offers a unique collection of accessories, including huge bejeweled rings and vintage magnets that make us giggle. There also are photo books, handmade soap, and cool wall panels by the likes of Roy Wasson Valle and Cyndi Coon. On recent visits, we scored a box of elegant monogrammed note cards (for the handwritten letters we've been meaning to write) and a handmade bowl for a birthday present (big hit!), as well as items from the small but significant selection of books and magazines. To ensure you don't perish of shopping ennui, MADE's stock changes seasonally — incorporating rows of stockings and glittery ornaments during the holidays and random travel finds from local art consultant Ted Decker throughout the year.

Devious Wigs & Things is like the Cheers of vintage shops — after a couple of times pawing through their unpredictable selection, the entire Devious family knows your name and can point you to the leather bomber or Steve Madden purse your heart desires. The front room features a large selection of primping goodies — from jeweled eyelashes to quality china-doll wigs in alarming shades of neon pink and electric blue, at about 40 bucks a pop — while the back is packed with vintage threads for dudes and dames. You never know what shopping holy grails you'll find at Devious. An $8 vintage skirt. Cool striped stockings. Or maybe some glittery butterfly hair clips, as owner Anna Marie Gutierrez has a personal weakness for the winged critters. It may take an hour or two to complete your quest, but there's plenty of opportunity for a break — you can Twitter your finds from the pay-per-minute Internet desk or plop down on the vintage chairs to watch a retro flick on videocassette.

There's a screen-printed shirt inside Brand X on Mill Avenue that says "Custom T-Shirts Are the New Mix Tapes." We have to agree. In an era where it's all too easy to pop out a personalized mixtape or Photoshopped greeting card, getting a T-shirt printed still seems like a genuinely thoughtful gesture. No one does them better than the hip perfectionists at Brand X, who seem to treat every job as if were their last, creating screen-printed art that'll impress the most discriminating T-shirt aficionados. From house offerings that are much better than the vintage-look stuff you'll find online — like Brand X's series of light-rail shirts, a clever take on the ubiquitous transit-themed souvenirs you'll see in London and New York — to their ability to perfectly print any pixilated image you hand them, Brand X is well on its way to becoming a local institution.

If you enjoy being a girl, this trendy clothing boutique in downtown Mesa is a must-visit. Step in the door and you're instantly transported to a frilly wonderland of pink. Everything is under $50, and though you won't find brand names like Guess or Bebe here, you can score a designer look without the huge price tag. On recent visits, we've spotted glamorous faux-crocodile belts, ruffled sundresses, sparkly hair flowers, and nail polish in glam shades of silver, neon blue and hot pink. The kids' side is even more girly, if that's possible. There's not a faded denim skirt or baby T in sight that isn't splashed with rhinestones, bows, or, yes, more pink. Contagious may ruffle a few tomboy feathers, but for girly girls, it's a sweet find.

Yes, Loveland — a new little boutique in that strip center at Mill and Baseline that we've always thought looks a little bit like the set for The Music Man — has adorable children's clothing. Appliqued T's, handmade tutus, teeny-tiny kiddy luggage and barrettes, and a few choice toys. But the real appeal for us was the women's section — where we found an equally cute selection of tanks, dresses, and even diaper bags. We were actually able to check out the merch, even with our kid in tow, because — get this — Loveland has a lovely little windowed room with a gate, with toys and a big television and movies. Brilliant! We can shop long after the little one's 30-second attention span has run. Next time we make plans to go shopping, we're skipping the babysitter and bringing the kids along to Loveland to spend our sitter money.

So many decisions, so little time, so much advice from possibly shoddy sources. What's a parent to do? Pick up a copy of Raising Arizona Kids. From schools to camps to where to throw your kid's birthday party, the monthly parenting magazine has your back. RAK recently celebrated its 20th anniversary — a feat in the journalism business — and has become a staple in pediatricians' offices Valleywide. Editor Karen Barr would probably prefer you buy a subscription. We highly recommend you do, as much for the insightful articles by local writers like Vicki Louk Balint and Debra Rich Gettleman as the annual guides that make you feel like a member of the best parenting club in town. Anyhow, you don't want to get caught stealing a copy from the doctor's office. Not in front of your kid.

Arizona legislators (and governor!), take note. We're got a living, breathing example of just how much good a little bit of public money can do for students. Housed in a beautiful new center in the Burton Barr Central Library, designed by the library's original architect, Will Bruder, College Depot houses two full-time college counselors, 25 computers, a conference room, and a series of workshops on every college entrance exam imaginable. It's everything that you need (short of cold, hard cash and bedding) to get yourself to college — whether you speak Spanish or English and are 16 or 60. Oh, and it's free. Deborah Dillon, director of education programs, came up with the idea and spent three years raising $1 million to fund it. She got a $550,000 grant from the city of Phoenix; the rest came from various charitable organizations. Talk about a power player. With a central location in the library — already an after-school hub, with a teen center — College Depot has the chance to become a major force of change for low-income and Latino students in the Valley. This is a place to come use the Internet when you don't have a computer at home, or get help deciphering the bureaucratic blather on a financial aid application when your parents don't speak English. (Or, for that matter, when they do.) It's a program we hope others will study closely.

If you're a mom who's serious about her eco-conscious rep, the recycling bin and the Prius aren't going to cut it. To really reduce your carbon footprint, head to Healthy Baby Happy Earth for all the environmentally friendly infant goodies you can possibly desire. The boutique stocks organic baby clothes colored using safe dyes, washable cloth diapers, and bottles that won't leach those dreadful BPA chemicals into baby's tummy-wummy. Earth-conscious mamas can even rent a breast pump here — which sounds a little creepy, but we're assured they're sterilized and safe. To top it all off, Healthy Baby Happy Earth is located in a 100-year-old historic home, making it recycled from the outside in.

Those in the know are aware — painfully, at times — that kids outgrow their clothes at a far faster rate than they wear them out. We're talking about clothes, but also about toys, books, and furniture. So what to do with all the leftovers (other than give them to Goodwill, stash them in the garage, pile them up outside for bulk-trash pickup, or — eek! — have another baby and call 'em hand-me-downs)? Another option: This well-stocked, easy-to-navigate north Phoenix store is a winner for both people itching to get rid of some things (and maybe make a bit of money while doing so) and those who need this or that, and at an eminently fair price. No garbage here. Kid to Kid is a godsend for parents on a budget who are nevertheless seeking first-rate merchandise for their little ones — and have their own treasure troves to pass along.

Remember pedal cars, those miniature metal machines that were foot-powered and looked exactly like Dad's classic Thunderbird? Take a trip back to the good old days at Smilin' Jack's and you'll find plenty of the real thing — vintage-style pedal cars with chrome accents and fins as well as its modern cousin, Big Wheels. Jack's also carries a large stock of autographed baseballs and other sports memorabilia, rare Hot Wheels miniatures, classic red wagons and vintage model cars from as early as the 1940s. The best part about Smilin' Jack's? The social norm that said these goodies are strictly for dudes has broken down since their heyday, so dangerous girls can get in on neighborhood pedal car drag races instead of trying to put Barbie's head in an Easy-Bake oven.

The shelves of today's toy stores are stocked with plastic cell phones and dolls that make a Van Buren Street hooker look elegant. That's why we adore Auntie Em's, where old-fashioned dollhouses and fully clothed dolls reign supreme. The feminine yin to Smilin' Jack's Pedal Cars' yang, Auntie Em's carries everything a girl needs to build and decorate her own miniature world, from teensy tables and beds to accessories such as a sleeping cat and a white picket fence to make her dream home complete. Every summer, the shop hosts a series of Dollhouse Camps where little princesses can build custom five-room bungalows for about a hundred bucks. All she'll need afterwards is tiny designer furniture, a matchbox-size sports car, and a miniature husband to pay for it all.

This funky store is stocked with a whole lot more than your typical coterie of furniture, barware, and velvet Elvis paintings. The owner's eagle eye has scored an eclectic selection of clothing so enticing it would make Carrie Bradshaw — and Sarah Jessica Parker — jealous. Cheery '50s skirts, prom dresses, '70s skiing sweaters, and straw handbags are waiting to be snapped up. Label-lovers and luxury hounds know which racks stock the fancy stuff, with finds that regularly include cashmere coats, mink stoles, and Lilly Pulitzer dresses. We love the recession pricing, like a men's Yves Saint Laurent velvet blazer for under $50, or sparkling rhinestone earrings for a mere $15. And for $20, who doesn't need another 1940s black leather handbag? Yup, that's pretty fabulous.

The Blue Jean Buyer is a magical place. You can walk in and pick out any pair of jeans, boots, belt and T-shirt, and you're about as close to being Keith Richards as you're going to get without having a few blood transfusions. With an astounding collection of vintage Levi's, T-shirts, cowboy boots, and jewelry for both guys and girls, it's impossible not to get lost in this tiny shop. With trade-ins accepted and already affordable prices, we can't help feeling lucky. Steve Vizzerra's quaint little boutique would certainly hold its own in Silver Lake or Williamsburg, but we get to keep his shop and its timeless rock 'n' roll cool all to ourselves.

It's a shopper's dream come true to hit a hot streak in a store. When you find so much that you actually have to put things back to keep the total ticket down, you experience the glory of pure consumerism . . . and you're beautiful. This happens to us every single time we walk through the doors at Sunset Clothing Xchange in Tempe. It's uncanny. The selective store offers only the best vintage finds as well as contemporary brands like Paige, Bebe, Rock & Republic, French Connection, Betsey Johnson, and People's Liberation (just to name a few). The racks are clean and well organized, and there's not a busted zipper in the place. With ridiculously reasonable pricing, we often wonder how the place keeps their doors open. As long as they are, we'll be walking through them.

We finally wrangled an invitation to Lewis and John's annual snooty-boots cocktail soiree, only to discover that its hosts insist on "formal vintage eveningwear" in order to get through the door. We made a beeline for Hollywood Regency, because we knew that the proprietress, Heidi Owens, had a few years back turned her love of old-timey fashion — not to mention the entire back room of her kicky vintage furniture shop — into a really swell homage to dinner jackets and formals. And they're all for sale! We swooped in and found a velvet-lined, brocade smoking jacket and a pair of cufflinks shaped like little penguins, and tarted up our ensemble with a silk hand-painted necktie from the '40s. While we were there, we also scooped up a couple of pairs of plaid shorts and a bowling shirt with the name "Chet" embroidered on the pocket, because we can't ever resist Hollywood Regency's cool duds and amazing low prices.

There's a booth among the many at Antique Trove that carries nothing but big, beautiful pieces from the south of France. We go there sometimes just to ogle the Napoleon armoire and the glass-and-mahogany wet bar. Don't get us wrong; sometimes we go to Antique Trove to actually buy stuff, like the little French Deco side table with a built-in humidor that's part of our bedroom suite now, and the glass-topped dining table with hand-carved rosette chairs that we got for a steal during one of Trove's frequent sales. We love a bargain, and we're often surprised by how pricey Antique Trove's high-end stuff isn't. The folks at this colossal antiques mall also sell stuff that isn't so fancy (not long ago, we bought a set of Lennon Sisters paper dolls for a friend whose home is filled with such things), but it's a huge space full of finer old furniture pieces and it never lets us down.

The gal who runs this place loves to chat, but she'll also leave you alone to wander through this old house in the ghost-town stretch of East Indian School Road. You'll find everything from neatly arranged Barbie clothes (hey, everything is neatly arranged in this shop; no digging through boxes or poking around on shelves here) to unbelievably low-priced barware and vintage dishes. Fat Cat doesn't waste any space with ordinary furniture; the large pieces scattered throughout (like a shockingly affordable Victorian dining set that haunts us still) are all incredible and pristine. A visit to Fat Cat's brick-and-mortar store (they also run an eBay store with the same name featuring equally awesome furniture and collectibles), in any economy, lets us come away with more stuff than we could otherwise afford.

We cannot tell a lie: We stopped shopping at this, one of the biggest antique malls in town. Not because their stuff was expensive or because we never found anything we liked there, but because the guy who ran the place was a tyrant. We got tired of being yelled at for asking how much a floor lamp cost or whether they had any ceramic ashtrays, and so we took our business elsewhere. But then someone told us that the place was stuffed with old, inexpensive silver trays, which we happen to be passionate about, so we sucked up our courage and headed in. Surprise! Not only is our once-favorite antique mall completely reorganized, with wider walkways and tidier booths, but it's under new management, to boot. The new people working there never holler at us, and in fact they're so concerned with making our shopping trip pleasant that they've relocated the entrance, so now we can enter from the parking lot instead of walking all the way around front. But what we really care about is the vast selection of cool trinkets and old furniture, which is also new and improved here. At this downtown antiques emporium, everything old is new again!

Jonesing for a rosewood and leather sofa by Hans Olsen? Dying for a pair of Eames chairs? Won't sleep 'til you own a Milo Baughman cocktail table? Have no idea what we're talking about? Even if it's the latter, we bet you'll appreciate a trip to Red Modern Furniture, if only for the sheer devotion these folks show to their cause — making the world more beautiful, one piece of modern/mid-century/vintage furniture at a time. To you, it's an ottoman. To others, it's an important piece of history. Either way, Red has the best selection in town.

At haus, a Saarinen Womb Chair can be yours for a cool $2,943. Or you can pick up a Jack Spade messenger bag for $90. Either way, your impeccable taste will be on display. We first spotted Jonathan Adler's clever Prozac jars on the shelves at this modern-mainstay, and every time we visit, we find something new to drool over. Our current passion is a $678 mirror designed by Tord Boontje, called "Hello Lovely." For now, we'll settle for the $190 metal piggy bank on the haus Web site, and some willpower.

Wandering inside Paris Envy on Seventh Avenue is a bit like strolling through the Marché aux Puces St-Ouen flea market in Paris. You'll find ornate headboards, shimmering chandeliers, curvy vanities, and a host of other authentic and reproduced French-style treasures. Even the walls say, "Ooh la la!" thanks to a special shade of paint called "rainy day," handcrafted by owner Laurie Lavy. Storekeepers also occasionally update a très cool blog that keeps fans in the know about the latest discounts and fashions. While the rest of us are waiting for Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport to finally get that direct Phoenix-to-Paris flight, Lavy has brought a little bit of the City of Lights to the Valley of the Sun.

We always swore that whatever dry cleaner was closest was good enough for us. So why do find ourselves driving crosstown just to visit Michael and Kevin at Krisply Kleen? It's not just because they're charming, although that certainly helps. These guys run a tight ship, with brand-new, state-of-the-art equipment that just happens to be much more environmentally friendly than what your neighborhood place is using. (They don't use perchloroethylene, which can cause liver and kidney damage with extensive exposure — and they take the time to recycle hangers, too.) And they don't just have a drive-thru for your convenience; they also have free pickup and delivery across the Valley. If the fact that we still bother to pop by doesn't convince you that these guys are cool, we're guessing that nothing ever could.

We were feeling so smug about the cool 1940s Kenmore gas range we bought from a neighbor. All gleaming white enamel and chrome, it screamed to us from across the street to take it home and bake something in it. We did — or tried to. We knew, once we quieted the shrill shriek of the carbon monoxide alarm, that our only hope was to call the nice folks at 805 Stoveworks. We'd heard for years about how they could fix any antique appliance used for cooking, and we discovered this to be more than true once a pair of Stoveworks workers arrived at our home with their notepads and their little box of, well, whatever those stove-repair things were. They measured some parts of our range and looked into and under other parts of it, then went away. A week later, they returned with dead-mint replacement parts and shiny bits of chrome and Bakelite and, after adding these and making some adjustments under the hood, so to speak, they left us with a brand-new old-timey stove that cooks everything, without setting off any smoke alarms. This appointment-only service (it doesn't have a physical location) is the only game in town when it comes to vintage stove and oven repair, offering everything from cosmetic to internal fix-ups on cookers from the turn of the last century to the present. When it comes to vintage stove repair, these guys know what's cooking.

It's a bit of a mystery, but somehow, Classic Automotive in Queen Creek has become a go-to shop for the Arizona DeLorean Club, a group of enthusiasts dedicated to preserving the stainless steel coupes manufactured in the early '80s by a long-defunct company and used as Doc Brown's time machine in the Back to the Future trilogy. Only about 9,000 of the cars were ever made, but about two thirds are still on the road, owned by collectors who need to take them someplace special when they need repairs. Classic Automotive, a small and attentive shop, is that place. If it's good enough for a DeLorean, it's good enough for your Ford Tempo — or so they seemed to be suggesting, when they turned their two-week gig repairing a replica of the movie car into a full-on promotional campaign, complete with fliers bearing the auto's image.

We had rather an odd problem: Our former favorite car wash is owned by someone who's a little obsessive about keeping one's car clean. We grew tired of taking it on the chin every time we pulled up in our usually filthy two-door coupe, and went looking for someplace we liked as well. We ended up wishing we'd gotten wise sooner, because not only do the nice folks at Lindstrom's leave us the heck alone, they reside in a cool old building that's a total flashback to the swinging '70s. Its giant teepee-shaped metal overhangs, blue-striped awnings, and groovy lightning-bolt graphics painted around the perimeter of the building really turn us on. Inside the lobby, there's a fish tank to ogle, although in cooler weather we always choose the neat outside seating area, because it's paneled in boss knotty pine that reminds us of Grandma's basement.

Did we mention that Lindstrom's gets our car really clean, too? This family-owned business, open Monday through Saturday from 8 a.m. 'til 5:30 p.m., offers a complete auto detail service, as well as express waxing and interior shampooing. They never try to upsell us and — more important — never rag on us if we don't turn up again for months.

We sometimes refer to ethanol as the conservative's alternative fuel. It's not a whole lot better for the environment, but buying it helps Midwest corn farmers and reduces the amount of oil needed from the Saudis and Hugo Chávez. Trouble is, we learned after purchasing a flex-fuel vehicle (one that runs on either gasoline or ethanol) that there are probably more Al-Qaeda sleeper agents in the Valley than there are ethanol filling stations. Fortunately, Western States Petroleum stocks the stuff at its main plant near downtown Phoenix. The plant, with its tall, metal tanks, looks more like a set from The Road Warrior than a gas station, but the workers there are certainly our heroes. We'd be ridin' dirty — as in, burning up sooty, old gasoline — if not for them. Okay, it's not all about trying to be that kind of "green": Ethanol has been about 50 cents cheaper than gas lately.

We may not be afraid of writing about Sheriff Joe, but when it comes to drunk driving, we'll admit that we're terrified of the consequences. Forty-five days in jail for an extreme DUI? Yikes. Of course, that doesn't mean we've cut back on our drinking — but we have found ourselves getting downright anal about calling a cab. And for that all-important ride home, we've never found a cab company we like more than Yellow Cab. It's one of the few local cab companies where the drivers know the city (for the most part), show up promptly, and — shocker of shockers — can actually speak English. After seven martinis, that's good enough for us.

In other parts of the world, the concept of a drive-thru liquor store is probably illegal, let alone indulgent and mostly unnecessary. Here, it's one of the perks of living in the desert. Phoenicians know that turning off the air conditioner for even a second is unthinkable, even if it's to stop off for a cold one. Why would you get out of your chilly respite from the heat to load up on beer if you don't have to? At Melrose Liquors, you don't. Pull up under the shade of a charmingly battered 1950s building, done up in bubblegum pink and seafoam green, and a cheery attendant will help you. Ice-cold beer in every flavor? They've got that. Budget smokes? Piece of cake. Tequila, vodka, or Red Bull? It's all here. The best part? There's nary a premium charge for the privilege, unlike lesser drive-thrus in town, and it's not just cash and carry. (Debit card users, beware — that will cost you 50 cents.) Staying cool in the summer on a beer run? Thanks to the good folks at Melrose Liquors, that's priceless.

We love a wide selection — particularly when it's of booze — but the last time we called one of those liquor mega-stores, looking for a particular brand, the guy on the phone sneered, "Look on our Web site," and practically hung up. We'd like our vodka tonic with a twist of customer service, please, so we vowed to stick with an old favorite — Tops. No, the place doesn't gleam, and we don't see coupons for it in the Sunday paper, but the last time we walked into Tops, a sweet young guy with onion on his breath put down his submarine sandwich and took the time to walk us to the vodka aisle and recommend his new favorite. He even searched the shelves 'til he found it and put it in our hands. Our friend was delighted with the gift of potato vodka, and we decided then and there that superstores just aren't all they're cracked up to be. For us, Tops is, well, tops.

From the funky vintage sign to its dusty catacombs of shelving, we dig the vibe at this downtown Chandler liquor store. But it's the vast selection of airplane-sized liquor bottles lining the wall behind the cashier's booth that caught our eye. The answer was a curt "no" when we asked to go back and peruse the hundreds of colorful mini-bottles ourselves, but quickly followed up with "everything you see on the shelves is back here." You want a tiny bottle of Hypnotic for 3 bucks? You got it. 10 mini Chivas Regals to hand out to the men at your bachelor party? Check. While you're there, if so inclined, you might want to wander down one of those gritty liquor-lined aisles to see the pockets of porn strategically placed throughout the store. Or not. Yeah, this place drips unapologetic charm.

Though he recently moved to classier digs in downtown Mesa (estimated square footage of the old store: 10), there are still much fancier cigar shops than Habanos Torres Cigar Factory. But how many other shops have a torcedore working on your smokes while you peruse the humidor? Timothy Torres, a fifth-generation Cuban cigar maker, knows how to roll, and he uses tobacco aged up to 30 years in his blends. If you don't like what he's got on the shelves, he'll also roll you a custom blend totalmente a mano on the spot. Businessmen, be warned: There are no gold-embossed bands on these bad boys. It's all about the smoke, so don't expect to impress anyone on the golf course. If you want a taste of Cuba, though, this is the place.

Dude, where's the best place in Phoenix to pick up a hookah (besides Van Buren)? Paraphernalia Boutique, a charming little store with burglar bars on the windows and every possible accessory to help you get your smoke on. In addition to the expected stash of incense and shisha, Paraphernalia stocks measuring scales, rolling papers, vials, art-glass water pipes — even a Mr. Potato Head bong, if you've got an extra eight hundred bucks lying around. And should you feel the need for detox after using your "tobacco smoking paraphernalia," there's a range of fast-cleanse products to clear your system. Really, the only things missing here are bags of Cheetos and a copy of Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle; but we're pretty sure if you're headed to Paraphernalia in the first place, you've already got those at home.

If you're looking for hard-to-find incense, follow your nose to Hippie Gypsy. The hookah and head shop carries a huge variety of smelly sticks, cones, and oil for your olfactory pleasure — or obfuscation. The store carries traditional scents like sandalwood, strawberry, jasmine, and vanilla, along with perpetually potent incense, like Nag Champa and patchouli. The latter scent is a hippie favorite and fills the air inside the store. The smell also wafts onto Mill Avenue, so if you miss Hippie Gypsy's psychedelic orange signs, just follow your nose toward that big whiff of earthy spice.

If you don't know your asarina from your elephant's foot, the über-friendly staff at Harper's Nursery is happy to help out. This family-owned nursery's been around since the victory gardens of WWII, and it's got it all: a garden club, discount days, landscape design services, garden accessories and gifts, an antique shop, open air markets with live music, and a monthly newsletter with seasonal information, garden tips, news, and events. The Scottsdale location even has a coffee bar! Who knew a nursery could be about so much more than plants?

We've heard of people growing fruit in the desert — yeah, like prickly pear. But bananas? Mangos? No way. Yes way, say the folks at Tropica Mango, a perennial favorite of Sunset magazine as well as local gardeners in the know. Located in the stretch of south Phoenix once reserved for flower and fruit farms and now replaced with cookie-cutter condominiums, Tropica Manga is a tropical paradise — or at least, the promise of one. Along with the advice to make your banana dreams come true.

Yes, this is a "home" and "garden" place, but for us, the porch is the embodiment of both home and garden. It's the inside, but outside. A space you can furnish like a room and treat like a garden at the same time. Figs, located in the Melrose District of central Phoenix, is packed with a mix of European and Asian furnishings, accessories, sculptures, art, and trinkets. It's stuff that's perfect for decking out your porch, from rustic (like a rooster welded out of scrap metal car parts) to lovely and sophisticated (like small mercury glass birds). In fact, this place has a strong avian orientation (a cage full of cheery finches greets you as you enter), but it's not just for the birds. Hit the porch, people, and relax.

Do you ever notice that your urge to garden is strongest when you've been out of town? On a recent trip to Los Angeles, we marveled at a friend's ginormous zucchini and lusted after his squash. "If he can do it, so can we!" we told ourselves, only to return home to a brown lawn and dying rosebushes. Even if we did water regularly, Phoenix is still a tough place to garden — but we have new hope since a friend gave us Dave Owens' Extreme Gardening, a book on sale at Whole Foods and designed just for us — desert gardeners.

This guy is a one-man show, a real garden hoe! He's got a line of products (also for sale at Whole Foods) and his Web site offers all sorts of handy tips, everything from buying worms (Oh, no! Do we have to?) to preventing weeds from growing in gravel. (We suppose that's what our lawn qualifies as, at this point.) And just in case, Owens also recommends some good landscapers.

Believe it or not, we work on the Best of Phoenix issue all year long. This time around, when we dug up our file of potential BOPs, as we call them, we noticed that most of the ideas had one thing in common: Changing Hands Bookstore.

We'd saved a notice about the store's outdoors program, which sends readers on hikes and birding expeditions with authors of appropriately themed books, and one about an event where store customers could pay a small fee for a one-on-one meeting with a book buyer, to get advice on a book idea or cover. We'd also saved a press release about an "Author in the Classroom" program — again, sponsored by the bookstore.

Changing Hands is the best friend a reader could have and a stellar example of what an independent bookstore can do for its community. Whether it's hosting a prom for Twilight's Stephenie Meyer or featuring Twilight jewelry made by a local artist, the store's management is constantly thinking of creative ways to tempt us.

As far as the bread and butter is concerned, the store's selection of new and used books is wide, and the staff will happily order whatever you need that they don't have — and if you can't afford a book, you can bring in something from your own collection to trade or sell.

Changing Hands' e-newsletter is one of the only ones we look forward to seeing in our in-box. Sign up for it and you'll see what we mean. Support your bookstore, people — like a good book, we don't ever want to see it end.

Our holy grail since the early '80s was a copy — we'd have even settled for a dirty, torn, library discard copy — of Cornelia Otis Skinner's Dithers and Jitters. We despaired of ever finding this mid-century essay collection, but that's because we'd forgotten, somehow and however briefly, about the Book Gallery. We happen to have mentioned our long-held (and, okay, slightly peculiar) desire to one of the clerks one afternoon, and he quickly scribbled our name and number onto a piece of scrap paper. "Yeah, right," we thought to ourselves as we left with our usual stack of collectible reads (in this case a pair of first-edition Cherry Ames novels and a Dell Mapback of one of Maysie Greig's better titles). No more than a month later, and after scouring eBay for years and pining away for decades before that, we had in our hands this cherished tome, which, when we read it, turned out to be not so very entertaining. But we don't care, because it renewed our faith in Phoenix's best collectible book shop, where the service is unusually helpful and where the rarest books in town can be found. (And if they can't be found, someone who works there will get 'em!)

When you're looking for a new copy of Lolita in Tehran or the latest Stephen King thriller, there are a dozen big-box bookstores waiting to suck up your hard-earned cash. But if you don't mind a good treasure hunt for your new-release book, Thrifty Joe's is the place to go. This used bookstore is less picked-over than the competition and is jam-packed with cheap golden oldies, like the Black Beauty sequel we'd been coveting since we were 10 years old. Newer fiction titles are harder to find. Thrifty Joe's buys books daily, though, so if you paw through the countertop stacks of new arrivals, you just might score a slightly dog-eared copy of that James Patterson novel. Amid the maze of small cubbies, there's also an extensive selection of self-help books and romance novels, an entire bookshelf dedicated to Star Wars and Star Trek, and rare treasures like VHS tapes and vinyl, from Coltrane to Zappa, averaging about $4 to $5 a pop.

It pains us to give this award to a chain store, but we are here to serve you, dear reader, and the truth is that there's no greater magazine selection in town than at the Biltmore Borders. We could lose ourselves for hours (and we have) in this store's magazine rack — testament that the publishing industry may be dying, but it ain't dead yet. Borders covers the basics from fashion to sports to current affairs magazines, and piles on the extras — we counted half a dozen mags devoted to pregnant moms, and a whole section to knitting. Read 'em while they last.

We stood at a magazine rack the other night, holding a $25 (we kid you not) design magazine in our sweaty hands, and had one thought: "Do they have this used at Bookmans?" If you've never been to the magazine section at one of the Bookmans locations in town, we suggest you drop this issue and head over. Bring your pocket change, because that's all you'll need to get yourself a pile of reading material. Sure, you might want to make sure you have the latest Time or Newsweek, but tell the truth: How far behind are you in your New Yorker reading? Cancel that subscription and scout the racks at Bookmans — we'll all but guarantee you'll find several months' worth of back issues, sold to the store by some other shlub who realized he'll never catch up on his own reading. A copy of Martha Stewart Living or Oprah's O will run you several dollars retail, but for a fraction of that, the girls can come home with you. Yeah, they may be a little long in the tooth, but we bet you won't notice the difference — have you ever noticed how repetitive magazines are getting, anyhow? Hey, no nasty comments about Best of Phoenix!

If a picture is worth 1,000 words, a graphic novel must be worth a billion. That's why when we want more than 24 pages of comic action, we head to Samurai Comics. If you're the sort of troubled soul who prefers gritty, graphic novels like 30 Days of Night, Samurai's got you covered. Do you prefer a 50-plus volume manga series like Naruto or Fruits Basket? This store's got enough manga to make you sneeze speed lines. Just use your hand, okay? Nobody wants a copy of Berzerk with your bodily fluids all over the pages.

We're not sure there's a reason to leave the corner of Ash and University. There, you have access to great coffee, pizza, piercings, Casey Moore's, and one incredible comic shop: Ash Ave. Comics. If single issues or superheroes are your thing, look no further. Ash Ave. has enough plastic-sleeved action comics to justify your overflowing collection as a "financial investment." If you're looking for something in particular, talk to Ash Ave. and it'll order it for you faster than you can ask whether the Flash is faster than Superman.

Paying hundreds of dollars for a vinyl figurine may seem like madness. We prefer to think of it as dedication. You never have to grow up as long as Red Hot Robot is around to surprise your inner child with wacky plastic toys, zonked-out artwork, and dozens of books full of vector art. Grab a Munny and permanent marker to create your own toy or purchase a limited-edition John McCain figurine complete with warhawk arsenal. Either way, it's a good investment for the bare and lifeless corner of your cubicle. Just don't open the boxes your treasures come in: Violating the collector's value would be madness!

PVC dress. Check. Riding crop. Check. Gas mask. What?? If you've been trolling the 'Net to find good bondage wear or, God forbid, slumming it at Hot Topic, you clearly haven't visited Fetish Falls. What started as an at-home craft shop for making the colorful "Cyberlox" clip-on pigtails cosplayers and raver chicks are so fond of has transformed into a one-stop brick-and-mortar shop where you can stock up on bondage gear — from collars and leashes to gorgeous black-and-white-striped Victorian bustle skirts by Hilary's Vanity (for the more discerning dominatrix). Though the shop's staff may curiously inquire as to where you'll be headed dressed head to toe in latex or as a little girl with pink tights and frilly skirt, they won't pass judgment or snicker under their breath. And if anyone does give you the stink-eye, just tell him that the gas mask is for those "high-pollution advisory" days.

Though most of Unique On Central's merchandise caters to the gay and lesbian community (rainbow jewelry, spandex swimwear, gay erotica), the store's greeting card selection is a hoot for heterosexuals and homosexuals alike. Owner Doug Klinge says that people constantly come in and giggle over the silly greeting cards. There are several racks and stands containing things like birthday cards with a photo of a woman stuffing her face with cake, while another woman tells her, "You shall not purge until you eat it all!" and graduation cards featuring wrinkled, stern-looking nuns warning recent grads not to party too much, lest they get the ruler. And if you need a cheeky gift to go with your smarmy card, Unique On Central also offers a variety of gag gifts (literal gags and otherwise).

Ah, the Magnet Lady. First, Mona sets up shop in a corner of a wedding reception, a bar mitzvah, a quinceañera, or whatever special event you may host. Then, she asks passersby to pose for a photo or three, with whomever they like. Now comes the good part. Before you say your goodbyes, just drop by Mona's booth and pick up the black-and-white photograph she took of you and yours. The photo isn't just a photo, but now, cleverly, a magnet for guests to stick on their refrigerators, filing cabinet or wherever as keepsakes. The woman oozes enthusiasm for her self-created gig, which has been a big hit at the three or four events where we've seen her work. And don't worry — she doesn't seem to do too many close-ups.

Here in the Valley of the Flip-Flops, toes are all-important. And it's not enough anymore to simply sport a pleasing shade that hasn't chipped yet. You'd better deliver some bling on those toes, or at least a mini-mural. Good news: Quality Nails steps up toenail design to a new level. The small waiting area of this Tempe shop is filled with hundreds of CD cases, each housing six hand-painted bright designs for your digits — cheery polka dots, argyle plaids, beach scenes, multicolored stripes, camouflage, animal prints, even a white baseball design with red stitching for you sporty girls. Don't like what they've got? No problem: Quality Nails will create custom designs. We loved their pink cosmopolitans for a Sex and the City party. Just think of what they might do for a party to celebrate Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland remake.

When it's time to hit the decks, there's no doubt that Cowtown is the only choice for us. There's just something about walking into the store that makes our heart race a little faster. While it could be the constant stream of the newest skateboarding videos showcasing the latest in Skate-or-Die prowess on their big-screen television, we think it might really be Cowtown's full understanding of skateboarding as a sport and a lifestyle, not just a phase in someone's life. They're just as dedicated to pumping up local brands like AZPX, Deville, and Mob Action as they are to sneaking info about the latest Nike SB drops to their VIPs. When it's time to rock gear for some concrete and asphalt exploration, Cowtown has your back from top to bottom.

Cyclists can be really picky: The seat's too wide, the fork's too long, the wheels are too squishy, there's more than an ounce of fat on my body. With the exception of the latter, your bicycling needs can be met at central Phoenix's Slippery Pig, a serious bike shop for serious bikers. This full-service shop has everything you'll need to repair your prized cycle, from handlebars and banana seats to used Kevlar tires that will resist puncture wounds from Arizona's many prickly plants. The shop also does repairs on-site at reasonable prices, if you'd rather have a pro pamper your baby than risk screwing it up yourself. We particularly like their selection of pre-built bikes, which include such high-end racing bikes as pricey and lightweight Cannondales and lower-cost powder-pink cruisers for the ladies.

In these tight times, it's time to cut away the excess. Do you really need all those Snoop Dogg CDs? Zia will be happy to consider taking them and any other CDs off your hands. Ever since Brad Singer founded the record store nearly 30 years ago, people have taken their unwanted music into the chain's stores, hoping to walk out with mad cash in their hands or new music to enjoy. Who are you not to keep that tradition alive? Especially when you'll have a huge selection of CDs, DVDs, and vinyl awaiting your fiscal irresponsibility.

If you're like us, it takes forever to take a trip to the record store. The experience is less a transaction than a balancing act: Which new releases to pick up? Which unheard classic to finally delve into? Once you have a stack of CDs, it's time to thin the herd with cash-flow considerations. That's why Stinkweeds is like our tiny cathedral for music shopping. The staff is always available without being pushy and helpful without being condescending. The wide selection of indie music ensures there's always something new to get lost in.

We don't just listen to vinyl records because they're retro cool. Their analog recordings capture the whole sound, while CDs and MP3s actually miss little bits and pieces of the sound wave. The only prob is that platters are hard to find and often in poor condition. When we want the best selection and a staff that doesn't think we're talking about our gun collection when we mention 45s, we head to Revolver. While we miss the funkiness of the store's old digs in a vintage house on Seventh Avenue, we certainly don't miss trying to cram our butts through tiny doors into equally tiny rooms. The new location, across from Carly's Bistro, is much larger, with exposed brick walls and neat little rows of albums organized by genre. Revolver's stock is huge, with over 20,000 albums, including thousands of $1 picks. There's also a handy rating system, which tells you whether the Sly & the Family Stone classic you've been eyeing is "fried" or near mint condition. Though we still can't find that 1972 Zombies album we've been coveting since the Y2K scare, it just might turn up one day. Until then, we'll satisfy ourselves with gems like jazz master Candy Lee Morgan's Blue Nite 1590, The Doors' Soft Parade on 45, or Slayer's blood-spattered limited edition of Hell Awaits. Sweet!

We know. Your band rules, but: a) you can't afford studio time; and b) no way can a clinical recording environment capture the energy and general awesomeness of your live performances. Well, guess what? There's a local drummer and professional audio engineer by the name of Ray Reeves who goes around to local music venues and documents live sets using high-grade audio recording equipment. Not only does he offer the unmastered results for a pretty affordable price, but he'll also clean up the soon-to-be platinum recording for a few extra dollars. So hit him up for his services and be that much closer to a major label deal.

Averil, employed by the locally owned repair shop that fixes speakers, amps, soundboards, mixers, Line 6 pedals, and P.A. systems, repairs gear (except instruments) for many of downtown's musicians. And since he's part of the scene and not a shady stranger, he'll tell you straight-up what needs to be fixed while trying his very best to keep repairs within your budget and/or under warranty, if applicable.

The in-shambles laundrette on the southeast corner of Seventh and Portland streets is the last place you'd expect to host live music. But thanks to Rocky Yazzie of local rock group Skinwalkers, you can be serenaded by live grooves as you do loads of whites and darks. Normally held on the first Sunday of each month, Yazzie's showcases feature locals and the occasional touring act. The deal is that each musician, performance artist, or poet gets the length of a wash cycle (15 minutes) for his or her set. And who says doing laundry is boring?

If you've spent substantial time in downtown Phoenix, you've at least heard of Michael Little. At this point, the sometimes homeless, self-taught painter and musician is a legend among folks who live, work, or play in the Roosevelt Row arts district.

Little hasn't had a day job in over 10 years. He lives off art sales and trades and was even spotted panhandling for beer money once.

His vibrant, energetic paintings of pretty ladies, imaginative dreamscapes, astronauts, fish, pianos, and bunny people have become a staple of downtown's visual landscape. He recently gained national attention for his autobiographical documentary, which was screened in 2007 at New York's Museum of Modern Art and was featured on the PBS series ReelNative, a show that focuses on Native Americans in Arizona. He jumps in for live music performances at Conspire from time to time, playing the saw. He's made a name for himself, relying on his Renaissance-man-like talents to survive.

Our favorite Little scheme is his latest: walking billboard. Make that drifting billboard. If you've happened to walk, drive, or bike along Roosevelt recently, you might've seen Little on his wind sail-powered skateboard. The sail features painted advertisements for neighborhood coffeehouse Conspire and the gRow house gallery — both establishments are venues for his art.

Little lives that dream we all have from time to time. You know, the one where we quit our day jobs, give up our mortgages, and live off the fat of the land? And while none of us may have the cojones to go off the grid, we're grateful Phoenix has a guy like Little through whom we can live vicariously.

Best of Phoenix 2009 In Photos

Some people call it "The Flintstones Bank." Others call it "that strange VNB over on 44th Street." But whatever you call it, you gotta love this flagstone-studded Chase bank branch, which the city is trying to get listed as an historic landmark. Built in 1968, the unique structure and its park-like surroundings are situated in a high-profile, high-dollar location. One of a series of the now-defunct Valley National Bank's commissioned structures, the 44th Street and Camelback Road branch is a rare, artistic, architectural wonder: an oddly shaped bank that has rocks in the walls and that looks to be held up by a garden of concrete mushrooms. It's more than just a quirky building; it's a part of the legacy of Walter Bimson, the late chairman of the board at Valley National Bank, who in the late 1950s became convinced he could help the then-small city of Phoenix grow if he populated it with interesting bank buildings.

Bimson built other gorgeous VNB branches, and his building streak led the professional journal Arizona Architecture to dub him "a leader in the use of architectural sculpture" in 1960. But none was so gorgeous as the Frank Henry-designed bank on East Camelback. Surrounded by giant concrete "mushrooms," its crescent-shaped main building frames a northwesterly view of Camelback Mountain and is studded with the same rough-hewn rocks that highlight its stunning, curved interior. It's a Modernist building that somehow transcends Modernist style with towering interior aluminum structures that hold the "floating" ceiling aloft and that match the scalloped concrete columns outside the building. A pair of John Waddell sculptures — Despina Seated and Martha, both from 1967 — beckon to us whenever we drive by, and they and the rest of this gorgeous landmark's ultra-cool, park-like setting make us want to transfer all our bank accounts here, just so we'll have an excuse to drop by from time to time and drink all this mid-century beauty in.

Best of Phoenix 2009 In Photos

Farming in Phoenix is surely a labor of love. From the inescapable heat to the lack of rain, the deck is stacked against anyone who might dare to coax food or flowers from our desert soil. Maya Dailey does just that. From her 1.5-acre Maya's Farm at The Farm at South Mountain, Maya's hard work has turned her well-tended rows into some of the most beautiful, sustainable, and enviable produce in town.

Farming is backbreaking work, and at Maya's Farm everything is cut by hand and grown without the use of chemicals and pesticides. The diminutive Maya, a garden sprite if ever there was one, makes it look easy. From digging her irrigation system to hand-turning the soil, there isn't a square inch of land on her farm that hasn't been worked by her. It shows, too, because her produce is sought after at Phoenix and Scottsdale farmers markets, as well as several restaurants in town.

It's not just the produce, either. Maya's flowers, with their beautiful colors and names like Zulu Prince, make heady bouquets. And we adore her tall sunflowers, whose blooms bob up and down like happy, smiling faces.

You'd have to be tenacious, daring, and perhaps a little bit crazy to think about starting a farm in Phoenix. So many family farms are disappearing, and with them seems to go most of our rainy season. And when fewer and fewer people cook at home, or even know where a carrot comes from, affixing the title "farmer" in front of your name might seem like a losing prospect. With the spirit of the pioneers who came before them, a love for the land, and a belief that basil is beautiful, Maya Dailey has turned dirt into soil, and doubt into dinner. She's tenacious, and daring, and maybe even a little bit crazy. That's all part of being a farmer in Phoenix, Arizona.

Best of Phoenix 2009 In Photos

She came to Phoenix meaning to paint, but Beatrice Moore, long considered the godmother of the downtown Phoenix arts community, instead wound up in charge. When she discovered there wasn't a local artists coalition, she formed one. That group, known as ArtLink, went on to create and host Art Detour, an annual tour of artist studios and galleries that's been growing by leaps and bounds over the past 20 years. In the early '90s, Moore added to that growth herself by starting a movement to rescue a dozen or so doomed historic buildings. Like everything else she undertakes, the rescue mission had an arty purpose: Moore and partner Tony Zahn have restored the buildings, most of them on dilapidated Grand Avenue, then turned them over to artists to use as galleries and live-work spaces. (Some not without controversy, but that's a story for another day.) Moore's Stop and Look Gallery is among the best known; she's also responsible for saving the historic Bragg's Pie Factory, a place where desserts were once turned out but that today hosts a mess of art and a passel of artists. Moore's latest ventures may be her most exciting yet. She's launching the first Grand Avenue Street Festival this month. And her Kooky Krafts Shop, which just opened, offers for sale her artwork — the project she intended to do when she arrived here almost 25 years ago. Wait 'til you see what she does with vintage bump chenille.

Best of Phoenix 2009 In Photos

"I spent the first nine months of my life in a Ziploc bag and have been clawing my way to freedom ever since."

That's her life, in a nutshell, according to Vyle Raven-Greyv, the eccentric owner of the weirdest shop in the Valley, Curiouser & Curiouser.

"I can't say more because it would ruin my mystique," Vyle maintains. (Everyone calls her Vyle.)

All you really need to know is that Vyle is a woman who collects everything. Everything. Here's just a sampling: She has five hearses (which she actually drives), a large collection of military vehicles (some of which sit outside her store on Seventh Avenue and Missouri and serve as her "Open" and "Closed" signs), two I.G.huahuas (a breed of dog she says she invented herself, a cross between Italian Greyhound and Chihuahua), and a 4,000-square-foot house that she says is so full of stuff and reptiles that she can't walk through it anymore. And that doesn't even include anything that's lost in the amazing mass of "curioddities and obscuriosities" that you can find inside her store.

When you walk in, you're greeted by an Egyptian coffin, a mummy listening to headphones, and a skeleton sitting with his head under an old '50s-style salon hairdryer. There are shoes, jewelry, records, B-movies, bear traps, jukeboxes, crosses, Buddhas, couches, an entire room full of vintage clothes, another full of dolls, more bags than you can count, a row of sunglasses hanging on a line, a sophisticated collection of old candy, lamps, statues of anything from dogs to zombie soldiers, army helmets, feather boas, witch hats, a lawn jockey, glassware, an African mask, an alien mask, dog collars, kites, a rocking horse, an old cigarette dispenser . . . and a wood-carved rendering of the Last Supper. Whew! There's much, much more, but we've run out of breath.

"I spent most of my life finding things," Vyle says. "Clearly, I don't need anything else."

Vyle refuses to share her age, and she compares herself to Michael Jackson (she says she has a Peter Pan complex and refuses to date anyone over the age of 19; let's just say she's probably old enough to have been Jacko's mother), but we think she's beyond compare — a one-of-a-kind, an original, a total mystery. This is a woman who is and/or has been, she says, a military historian, an artist, a graphic designer, a multimedia pioneer, an event manager, a public relations specialist, a ferocious patriot, and a number of other occupations we can't fit into coherent phrases.

So, what does it all mean — all the stuff, all the identities? "They're souvenirs of having lived," she says. And, even if the rest is a mystery, the fact that Vyle Raven-Greyv has lived is most certainly true.

Best of Phoenix 2009 In Photos

Out here in the West, the genes of independent spirit course through our dehydrated bloodlines. Our cuckoo-crazy relatives were so desperate for independence that they settled an inconvenient home on our spiky, dry land. Why? Because they wanted to go renegade and live by their own rules.

We see that spirit at work at Hoodlums Music and Movies. The 11-year-old independent business has lived on, despite powerhouse music meccas like Best Buy or Borders trying to edge them out. It even survived relocation after a 2007 fire at its former home in the Memorial Union at ASU.

With its indie status, Hoodlums can do whatever it wants, free and clear of red tape and corporate trickle-down processes that gum up good ideas.

A couple of doors down from Changing Hands Bookstore, we've certainly seen our fair share of good ideas come out of that little shop. In the past year, Hoodlums has amped things up by broadening their cultural repertoire with a range of events and bringing in new patrons who don't have to be music snobs to enjoy the place.

In early 2009, Hoodlums rotated a handful of visual art shows, always paired with a spectacular opening event with live music (of course!). Now its latest endeavor, a group documentary screening, is gaining momentum.

Community Movie Night fires up once a month and invites folks to take in controversial films like Michael Moore's Sicko, a documentary about the business of making profit off the sick. Or Wetback: The Undocumented Documentary, whose title alone is enough to stir things up.

The nights are frequently moderated by ASU professors and film critics (depending on the movie) and offer ample time to discuss. Plus, because it can, Hoodlums gives coupons for discounts at their own store, Baskin-Robbins, Changing Hands Bookstore, Wildflower Bread Company, and Mac's Grill and Bar just for showing up.

See? Hoodlums gets to do what it wants. And we're a better city for it.

Best of Phoenix 2009 In Photos

The first time we walked into Smeeks, we weren't sure whether to clap our hands in glee — or cry. We really did tear up a little, after months of hearing about Georganne Bryant's dream to open a candy/novelty shop in the same complex as her wildly successful boutique, Frances. This place is a dream come true.

For us, too. Yes, absolutely, there are retail gems in this town, but let's be honest. They are few and far between. We're frankly sick of going to places like Portland and Los Angeles and lusting after their one-of-a-kind indie businesses.

Now we have this to say to the rest of the world: Eat your heart out, because we've got the candy. Smeeks was Bryant's childhood nickname, and kids are the main targets of this sweet little blue-and-red shop — but we've seen adults drop a good chunk of change, too, on everything from Abba Zabbas to crepe paper nut cups. And it's not just about candy and party goods. From sparklers shaped like numbers, hearts and stars to Japanese stickers to a wide assortment of dart guns, you can find something for anyone with a sense of humor, even if he doesn't have a sweet tooth. Smeeks got us nostalgic for the places of our Phoenix youth — Farrell's, Jutenhoops, Circus in Tempe. As you'd expect, Bryant's spit-shined it all into gleaming, gorgeous submission and presented it to the city on a silver platter — with free gumballs for everyone.

As she's fond of saying herself, we're just glad Bryant likes all that goofy, dumb stuff that we like, too.

Best of Phoenix 2009 In Photos

This year's most stylish Phoenix wedding took place not here but in lower Manhattan, just off the West Side Highway in an industrial building that houses artists and low-income residents. The groom, Jim Malloy, is a native Phoenician; his new bride, Rachel Richards, hails from the wilds of Montana but now calls downtown Phoenix home.

Two years ago, Richards opened Bunky Boutique, a hip but welcoming hole-in-the-wall that customers entered from an alley just south of Roosevelt Row, between Fifth and Sixth streets, and the store became another popular stop on the downtown beat, along with places like MADE and eye lounge and Tammie Coe. Richards and Malloy, a driver for UPS by day, were as much a draw as their atypical, indie clothing and accessories: She's friendly and petite, with porcelain skin, cornflower blue eyes and improbably red hair, and he's lanky, outgoing and nerdily hip (or the other way around — we're never quite sure). Together, they're the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers of Phoenix style, making it look easy as they nurtured Bunky and then transitioned from back alley to the first floor of a gracious brick-and-wood house next to The Roosevelt Tavern.

And then there was their wedding this spring: Richards simply gorgeous in a strapless white gown, Malloy unexpectedly elegant in a classic tux, and the city of New York as their magical backdrop. Their wedding photos look like stills from the feel-good movie of the year, and we've got our fingers crossed that these two characters will live happily ever after, in love, in style, and in Phoenix.

Best of Phoenix 2009 In Photos

Katie Wilson rocks the kidswear hard in her sparkly boutique — complete with a candy bar that would make Dylan Lauren green with envy. You can embrace your kid's inner Elvis or Harley rider with a black leather coat and all the trimmings, go girly with the fullest tutus in town, or just monkey around with Paul Frank's latest. No matter the look, you can trust Wilson to have the best taste in town — and we're not just talking about her Pop Rocks. We'd let her shop for little Annabelle any day.

Best of Phoenix 2009 In Photos

As shoppers here love to remind the rest of the world, "You only get one Last Chance — and it's in Phoenix."

Yes, there's Nordstrom Rack, the discount arm of the pricey chain department store. That's not what we're talking about here. Last Chance gets the stuff that doesn't sell at The Rack, as well as items from other Nordstroms far and wide, thanks to the company's liberal return policy. And if you dig — and dig you must; that Hobo wallet and those Prada loafers aren't going to jump up and grab you — you can find the deals of a lifetime. Last time we were there, we scored a pair of children's Lelli Kelly sequined tennis shoes for $12. Retail: almost $70. We know because the price tag was still on the bottom of the shoe.

Be sure to show up at 10 a.m., when the store opens — get there a few minutes early to hear the longtime manager give her speech about how you're not supposed to push, shove, or resell items. (It's pretty obvious, if you hang around Last Chance long enough, that all three go on regularly.) As the gates go up, grab a basket and adjust your body armor. These shoppers really do take their bargains seriously.

Best of Phoenix 2009 In Photos