Shopping & Services

In 2002, the Village of Merrick Park did what no other shopping mall seemed capable of doing. It broke the stronghold the Bal Harbour Shops had on luxury goods. If you wanted to drop outrageous amounts of money on ready-to-wear items from the world's top designers, you had to travel to the small town near the Broward County line, quite a trek if you lived in Coconut Grove, Coral Gables, or Pinecrest. But the Village of Merrick Park cut travel time to a few short minutes and borrowed heavily from its Bal Harbour counterpart — an open-air layout, high-end eateries, and an atmosphere decidedly non-mall. And with stores such as Neiman Marcus, Betsey Johnson, Gucci, Tiffany & Co., Jimmy Choo, and La Perla, Merrick Park is a worthy competitor for high-end clientele. Besides, it boasts one of the few Borders bookstores still left.

When your party-animal level reaches such a high point that only an explosion of '80s sequins and shoulder pads can do it justice, or when your art-gallery day job requires you look like a '70s Lolita adorned in ruffles and soft chiffon, only one store can adequately quell your ravenous vintage appetite. Tiny, well-organized, adorned with a huge black-and-white print that quotes Alice in Wonderland, and filled with quirky details (care for a collection of doll heads?), the Rabbit Hole is an expertly curated and moderately priced potpourri of secondhand goods plucked from New York City flea markets, Los Angeles vintage warehouses, and other corners of the world where cool and original live (and where the husband-and-wife owners, who are also photographers, travel). If a bunny called this shop home, it would be the type that sports nerdy, oversize glasses; hops around in old-school combat boots; and refuses to eat carrots because "they're so conventional." In other words, exactly the type of rabbit we like.

Given that most of the used bookstores left in Miami are in strip malls and half of their stock comprises multiple copies of the same wildly popular romance and teen novels, Fifteenth Street Books could easily be mistaken for a book museum. The store, which occupies the original site of Books & Books, is lined floor to ceiling with wooden shelves brimming with actual, real, bona fide literature and grand art books featuring lavish reproductions. Climb the hardwood stairs to the sun-filled second floor and you'll find collectibles and limited-edition prints, not hidden in some showcase, but on shelves to grab and actually peruse. Scour the store and you can find some real gems, such as a copy of a first edition (albeit a later printing) of Naked Lunch in its original, though well-worn, dust jacket for $20. Heck, that's almost what a new, tacky-looking paperback of this modern-day Inferno will set you back at Borders, if you can find a Borders, that is.

Believe it or not, there's better treasure at your local Goodwill store than just macramé owls, velvet Elvises, secondhand underwear, busted-up ham radios, and cracked souvenir ashtrays from places you'll never visit. Of course, we're talking about highly collectible vinyl. Basically, as baby boomers age, enter nursing homes, and fall into open graves, they need to get rid of their awesome stockpiles of old records. And often, the easiest and most efficient way to free themselves of these extremely precious worldly possessions is simply donating them to a nonprofit thrift outlet like Goodwill. So hurry! Go pick through the '60s generation's vinyl leftovers. Sure, it's not all gold and platinum. There's a glut of stuff such as Neil Diamond's Hot August Night, Hall & Oates's Abandoned Luncheonette, and multiple copies of every single Herb Alpert album in the universe. But look hard through the junk and you'll eventually find a few rad rarities, like Velvet Underground's White Light/White Heat, or curios such as a chicken-grease-smeared first pressing of Christmas Day With Colonel Sanders. And when you're paying only $1 per LP, this kind of killer find makes you feel like an especially slick looter.

With gas prices this high, even the most motor-loving among us must be considering the benefits of switching, at least on occasion, to self-powered transportation. But maybe we're not ready to shell out top dollar for a new bicycle. If you're looking for a used bike or used parts, check out Tamiami Cyclery. The small strip-mall spot has been in business for decades and looks like it, but you'll find a menagerie of vintage frames and rare parts at good prices. Plus the staff is always polite and knowledgeable.

Not to sound like yuppies, but we feel like we're in danger of contracting tetanus whenever we enter most bicycle shops. We always have to climb around some ancient, broken-down tricycle — maybe right by the door is not the best place for that — to get to the oil-blackened bike dude. We're carrying our own bike, which has a flat tire, so it's like a claustrophobic obstacle course. The pedals of our bike always scrape against the skin of our legs, which for some reason is obscenely painful. And there are five people in line in front of us, but the bike dude is busy telling his semihomeless assistant the story of how he dropped out of Oberlin to pedal the Serengeti. All 4 Cycling USA offers a reprieve from this grubby malaise. The year-old shop is spacious, sparkling-clean, well-staffed, and welcoming. Prices are reasonable: $35 for a tuneup, $6 for a new tire tube ($12.41 if they do the labor), and $270 for adult beach cruisers. High-performance bikes include luminescent titanium beauties that would spur Lance Armstrong to peel off his spandex shorts and masturbate. Of course, that would cause him to be politely told to leave, because unlike at those dirty-ass stores we were talking about before, pleasuring oneself is not allowed at All 4 Cycling USA.

What Miami needs more of is a YMCA culture. We're not talking about men wearing construction-worker or police-officer or Indian-chief costumes while making letters with their arms. We're talking true YMCA culture, like those in cities such as Cleveland or Baltimore: blue-collar dudes and wealthy-commissioner types working out in the same gym and then sweating together in the steam room, grumbling about the local quarterbacks' professional inadequacies while thumbing through soggy sports sections. (Editor's note: This was written by a male who has no idea what happens in female steam rooms because he's pretty sure the Cinemax movie he watched on the subject was not accurate.) Yep, in the Rust Belt, the YMCA is where the plebeians mix easily with the fat cats. But in Miami, the rich people work out at a posh health club that looks like a Moroccan whorehouse (let's call it Pavid Carton), and the poor people get ripped in one-room gyms featuring crude paintings of barbells on the walls. That's why we're pretty happy about the YMCA Village of Allapattah Family Branch — how gloriously uncool is that name? — opening its doors. There's no steam room to hobnob with a nude and sweaty city mayor, but it is otherwise truly a gym for the people: Membership is $34 for a single adult, $44 for a couple, and $50 for two adults and as many kids as you have. Yep, kids: They're like people but smaller, and they get really emotionally invested in ice-cream cones. Bet you haven't seen any such creatures at Pavid Carton, huh, fancy-pants?

Some people would argue that the best Jim is Jim Carrey. Or Jimmy Johnson. Maybe even Jiminy Cricket. But workout junkies in Kendall know the number one place to break a sweat is Thump Fight Gym, hidden in the lushly green Kings Creek Shopping Center. Since 1997, this seemingly rugged boxing gym — decked out with a ring, ample bags, and a loudmouthed coach — has been the perfect place for any gym rat. There are treadmills and stationary bikes for the hamster-wheel/exercise-machine set, weights for the beefcakes, yoga classes for the hippies, and spinning, CrossFit, boot camp, TRX, Thai boxing, and Brazilian jujitsu classes. What's more, this gym has a strong family vibe. Not only does owner Steve Arintok throw an annual barbecue for all gym members and staff, but also he's on site every day greeting each person by name. "Hello," heavyweight boxing and kickboxing champion James Warring. "Hello," IBF featherweight champ Stacey Reile, and if you give this place a whirl, "hello" to the future Jim "Cinderella Man" Braddock. Membership rates are $39 to $75 a month.

The musk inside the training room is overpowering. Dressed in black T-shirts and training pants, a couple dozen students simultaneously perform a series of devastating combinations of hooks, uppercuts, and roundhouse kicks aimed at imaginary opponents. Their instructor, Julio Castrillo, walks among his students, watching their form, making sure their fighting stance is perfect, their pivoting effortless, their follow-through ferocious. "Always keep your hands up!" Castrillo shouts. "Always guard your face!" Six days a week, sometimes twice a day, Castrillo leads grueling training sessions in the art of krav maga, a self-defense fighting style developed by the Israeli army that emphasizes endurance and precision. From perfecting joint locks to escaping headlocks to timing a well-placed knee to the ribs, the curriculum at Miami Lakes Krav Maga is enough to turn the meekest kid into the baddest brute on the block. The monthly membership is $120, plus a onetime $200 fee for the T-shirt, training pants, and fight gloves. Throughout the year, the school also holds training seminars for $35 to $50 for members and nonmembers.

"One sunny day, the God of Gun and the God of Rock had a drunken night of pleasure after too many shots at Mansion in South Beach. They named the result of their sacred, drunken union Pantera, and it was good." Maybe that's not exactly how Pantera Guns & Guitars came to be, but it might be close. This little store is chock full of pistols, rifles, revolvers, and "axes of evil" (the musical kind). Pantera also has a special "ladies' section," complete with pink guns, pepper spray, and mace (because a girl must defend herself by any means necessary). Worried about an earthquake, nuclear fallout, or complete breakdown of society? Pantera has a fully stocked selection of survival gear. And because the world hasn't yet reached total anarchy, classes are available so you can get your concealed-weapons permit (none required to carry a guitar). Pick up a Glock 38 and a Dean Hardtail Pro and look at you — you're living like a rock star, baby. And that rock star's name just happens to be Nugent, as in Ted.

Being a ninja in Miami is hard. Not only is it really hot under that black uniform and mask, but there are hardly any tall buildings to scale. And even when you find one, everyone assumes you're another MMA fighter acting like an asshole. So where do you go when you're a master in the art of stealth and seeking a supportive community of like-minded ninjutsu practitioners who understand your struggles? A strip mall in west Miami, of course. That's where you'll find MAC Sports Supplies, a small mom-and-pop shop owned by martial arts experts who are more than willing to offer an open ear and an array of numchucks, swords, hand claws, ninja garb, and other training gear at reasonable prices. We would tell you where it is, but you'll just have to use your espionage skills. What, the address is listed above? You're good, ninja, you're good.

Say the ghosts of Frédéric Chopin, Jean-Baptiste Lully, and Antonio Vivaldi were all spending a weekend in Miami and performing a once-in-a-postlifetime concerto at the Arsht Center to benefit the Greater Miami Youth Symphony. Where would they go to find sheet music and tune their instruments for the night? Probably the place that carries South Florida's largest collection of sheet music — more than 21,000 titles — and employs an in-house luthier. Allegro has been part of Miami's music community for more than 50 years and specializes in string, brass, and percussion instruments. The folks here also teach music to children and adults alike. It's a brick-and-mortar nirvana of all things music. Whether you want a $20 tambourine or a $7,000 — and beyond — violin, the store probably has it in stock. If not, they'll order it — and give you a damn good price in the process.

Ted Gawronski is a man of the sea. For years he raced powerboats up and down the East Coast. Then he settled in South Florida and now runs a place he calls "the only dive shop/dive charter facility on Miami Beach." The place has been around for 16 years and provides divers with two boats: the 36-foot Temptation and the six-pack Trident. Ted and his staff offer diving instruction as well as daily trips at 10 a.m., two trips a day on weekends, as well as night dives. They travel to some of the area's most exciting dive locations, including coral reefs, a sunken oil rig, and a variety of wrecks. Among them: the Andro, a 165-foot luxury yacht built in 1910, sunk in 1985, and ripped apart by Hurricane Andrew in 1992. And prices ain't half-bad. Boat trips go for $65, and tank rentals are a reasonable $10 each. Hours are 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday through Friday and 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday.

Can you name 32 varieties of avocado, 39 types of mango, and six different sapodillas? Heck, do you even know what a sapodilla is? The folks at Pine Island Nursery do, and after being in business for 35 years, they are not only knowledgeable enough to tell you all about each, but also savvy enough to send you home with your very own tropical fruit tree, starting at just $30. Find everything from abiu to white sapote — 70 products in all — at the 50-acre nursery, open year-round. With Pine Island's help, condo commandos can become fig farmers lickety-split, and single-family-homeowners can grow a garden of fruit salad ingredients that would make Martha Stewart jealous. The nursery's website even dispenses helpful advice, such as which variety of dragon fruit is best for garnishing a cocktail. Yep, this is our kind of nursery.

Explore Miami on a Vespa. For $75, Grow Verde will deliver an Italian scooter anywhere in the city, let you keep the thing for six hours, and pick it up when you're all scootered out. The price includes gas and insurance. But the most unique thing about Grow Verde is its Vespa-sharing program. Are you a recent college grad who can't afford ramen noodles let alone car payments? With a "Housemates" membership, you and your roomies can split a $99 annual fee and call/text Grow Verde whenever you need a scooter. They'll deliver the Vespa and charge you a discounted rate of $49.99 for the entire day, or just $7.50 an hour. There are also membership packages for families and businesses, as well as a presidential club for big-money ballers.

Want to roll like a real Miamian, or at least the kind who pops up in hip-hop videos and furthers the stereotype of a glamorous party city? Then you need to be riding, not rolling, and it has to be on the water like in that "I'm on a Boat" SNL short. Sunshine Boating Group can make your delusions of grandeur a reality. Join the likes of Kevin Garnett, Christian Slater, Mel B, Britney Spears, and Lil Wayne, who have all been spotted here. But you don't have to be an A-lister to rent a Sunshine boat. Show off for your in-laws and clients, if only for half a day. The Miami outfit specializes in powerboats longer than 45 feet — Sea Rays, Sunseekers, Azimuts, Lazzaras — and rental includes captain and crew, fuel, and dockage fees. Half-day (four-hour) rentals of 45- to 50-footers start at $1,500, and $2,500 to $3,000 gets you a boat for a full day (eight hours). Larger vessels for full days cost $3,500 to $5,500.

This private club, hotel, and spa is located on the historic site of the Sovereign Hotel, which was entirely redesigned and expanded to include a 16-story oceanfront tower. Soho Beach House includes 49 rooms, a screening snug, two pools, and a beach club, as well as an expansive Cowshed spa and a Cecconi's restaurant open to nonmembers. Since it opened last fall, Soho has become a favorite haunt for South Beach models, so the place is perfect for ogling the scene's freshest faces. The Polaroid photo booth is a big hit with the model crowd. Another great feature can be found on the eighth floor, where the library, private dining room, and plunge bar and terrace resemble a rustic wood-cabin getaway from the roaring '20s. The Cowshed spa features turn-of-the-20th-century barbershop chairs. Annual memberships range from $900 to $2,400. Even the kiddies have to pay — children's memberships cost $250.

Miami is all about appearances. So when faced with the decision to (A) drive your 1989 Volvo to the club, (B) hail a taxi, or (C) rent a fully loaded stretch Escalade, you probably pick the last. That's because getting into a South Beach club is hard enough without the right connections, but pulling up to the joint in a fancy, chauffeured whip means you're probably important — either a celebrity or someone with a bunch of disposable income ready to burn Benjamins inside VIP without a worry in the world. Renting a limo is not only awesome but also practical, because nobody wants a DUI. Carefree Lifestyle understands and would much rather you drink and be driven than drink and drive. However, what really sets Carefree apart is that it also rents yachts, aircraft, and mansions. So if you want to take your party on the high seas, there's a 70-foot Azimut yacht ready to get wet and wild, or a 192-foot Islander complete with personal watercraft, scuba gear, kayaks — you name it — to enjoy.

It can be tough shopping for abuela. You want to give her a superuseful blender or a collector's-edition box set of ¿Qué Pasa, U.S.A.?, but you know that, at the end of the day, she'll most appreciate a pastel figurine of a pigtailed girl under a parasol walking a poodle. So quit trolling the DVD section of El Dollarazo like a cheapskate and buy her a classy gift at China Cabinet, home of high-end porcelain figurines, vases, plates, and everything else glossy and sparkly that sits in a chinera. Originally a small store inside Miami International Mall in the '80s, it expanded more than ten years ago to become the grandmother of all gift shops, if your grandmother is the type to wear a silk bata de casa while sipping a cup of sidra in fine crystal and admiring a case full of Lladró, Lalique, Disney Classic, and Precious Moments statuettes. If that sounds like a missing-person description for half your family, trust us, this will become your one-stop shop.

Sure, Victoria's Armoire on Ponce is nice, but insiders know to walk straight past, across the alley, and through the doors of an unmarked entrance for more interior and outdoor pieces, especially because this location has an adjoining sale room. This monster showroom holds about ten times the amount of merch as the main space, plus there's a discounted area that contains amazing treasures. You'll find many natural-wood tables, chairs, bedroom sets, bookcases, and such, along with woven seating, giant framed mirrors, and cool artifacts. Some are scratch-and-dent, but most are just discontinued items they want to pull out of rotation. We once picked up a copy of a Jonathan Adler urchin vase for a dollar there. (The original sold for more than $50.) If you fall in love with something broken or slightly off, the in-house carpenter can fix it or refinish it for you. See? Deals can be had in the Gables.

In a city where your furniture options amount to superpricey Design District showrooms, unimaginative pieces at City Furniture or El Dorado, or cheap, user-assembled items from Ikea, CB2 is a godsend. The store is basically a younger, hipper version of Crate & Barrel geared toward 20- and 30-somethings without the funds but with the desire to decorate their dwellings in a more unique fashion. CB2 falls somewhere between Ikea and those high-end showrooms, with pieces affordable enough you feel like you're getting a bargain without the Chinese-made, assembly-required particle board. Best part is that despite its corporate parent's high visibility, CB2 has only nine locations in the United States and just one in Florida. So while all of your friends have Ikea's Lack coffee table, your living room will look a bit more one-of-a-kind, even if really isn't.

Do you know how expensive it is to furnish a house or apartment? First you get that nice couch from West Elm, then you add the dining set from CB2. Sure, maybe you settle for the build-it-yourself dresser from Ikea, but you just can't say no to that amazing desk from Luminaire. At the end of the designing day, you're talking thousands and thousands of dollars, at a time when some of us can barely afford a place. Luckily, Bargain Barn is a veritable treasure chest of used furniture. Even in-the-know interior designers shop here. The selection changes often, and items are usually priced to move — $15 will get you an end table. Sure, some things here might need a fresh coat of paint or a deep cleaning, but in the end it's worth it. Plus all the proceeds go to the Miami Rescue Mission, so you'll feel extra good about saving money.

Maybe you're tired of going to Hialeah every time your car breaks down. Sure, your guy there is dirt-cheap, but every drive ends up in frustration and wasted time. Your GPS can't even find its way around Hialeah. And then there's the unnecessary trip to Flamingo Plaza. Stop buying pantsuits you'll never wear, and stay central. The guys at Plaza Tire & Auto Center are the most honest and quick-working in Miami. They're not the cheapest, but they're efficient. This full-service, independently operated repair shop has been fixing domestic and imported vehicles since 1977. Let's look at the top three reasons why Plaza is the best: (1) Gabe Cortez and his son John work there. They look a lot alike, which is fun, and supporting a family-owned business is a blessing you bestow upon the local economy. (2) You know what Gabe is thinking by his earnest voice, so it's easy to trust him. And (3), you can eat yummy empanadas at Enriqueta's across the street while your oil gets changed. Plaza's hours are Monday through Friday 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. and Saturday 8 a.m. to 3 p.m.

A little more than a year ago, siblings Alban and Paloma de Mazieres opened Kiliwatch Miami, a boutique in the heart of Miami's Design District. The store faces stiff competition from more recognizable names located just around the corner, but where Alban and Paloma excel is in the careful curation of items selected for sale. And while clothes are the store's bread and butter, what it sells best is the concept of a certain lifestyle — the kind where you and your fabulous hipster friends are the most fashionable and interesting people you know. At Kiliwatch, you can dress yourself, boyfriend, and apartment, because every fashionista needs to make sure everything in her life could meet the standards of, say, Anna Wintour — you know, in case she ever knocks on your door and offers you that dream job as fashion editor. Items range from affordable to expensive ($20 to $300), so trendsetters at every income level can find something to take home. Labels carried include Plain Jane Homme, Better Off Dead, Altru, Converse by John Varvatos, Exact Science, Rebel Yell, Lovers + Friends, Patterson J. Kincaid, Salinas Swimwear, Cali Dreaming Swimwear, Noir Jewelry, and Chan Luu. Store hours are Monday through Friday 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. and Saturday 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Kiliwatch is closed Sunday, because even God needed to rest on the seventh day.

Designer James Anthony must have a lot of nightmares. At least we would after combing through countless creepy, antique medical books and science journals. But for Anthony, who cites as inspirations photography pioneer William Fox Talbot and the sideshow-style photography of Joel-Peter Witkin, these vintage, macabre images are his muses. And it's not just his predilection for the Victorian Gothic that has nabbed our attention. It's that he places these spooky images on the most prosaic of wares — pillows, T-shirts, underwear, hoodies — for his Etsy store. One tank ($44), depicting a woman in an elaborate bug costume, was inspired by a 20th-century French postcard titled Le Cigule (The Cicada). A woman's tunic ($50) shows a 19th-century French illustration of two corpse-like lovers about to kiss, their profiles creating the eye sockets of a large skull. A stag's skeleton, snagged from an 18th-century physiology book, graces a pair of men's seafoam-green underwear ($32). Anthony was born in Utah and studied fashion design in San Francisco before working in galleries in New York, where he learned to silk-screen. Living in downtown Miami since 2007, he hand-prints each one of his James Anthony Apparel designs, resurrecting forgotten ephemera so we can wear it on our sleeves and skivvies.

Three reasons to wear retro threads: (1) The crap you buy at Gap and Target falls apart in three weeks. (2) Today's dresses and tunics are designed for those who have never eaten a sandwich or endured puberty. (3) Almost everything nowadays is made out of cotton jersey, making your lady lumps look like smuggled ham hocks and cottage cheese. You could scour Miami's vintage shops for brocade bolero jackets worthy of Mad Men's secretaries, but they're bound to be overpriced for something that comes with pit stains. Instead, wrap yourself in the nouveau vintage designs of Miss Brache. The Miami designer offers sizes 0 to 24 in everything from hip-hugging leopard-print swimsuits (boyshort maillot, $115) to flouncy polka-dot dresses with sweetheart necklines (Dahlia dress, $155). And because they're all handmade to order, you can bet their seams will withstand a few repeat performances of "Y.M.C.A." We aren't the only ones enraptured with these throwback designs. Martha Stewart's wedding website featured Brache's reversible bridesmaid dresses with embroidered petticoats, and BUST Magazine praised her pinup-esque swimsuits, which have been worn by Victoria's Secret model Miranda Kerr. Brache, who refers to her retro threads as "rock-'n'-roll formal clothing that won't piss off your grandma," sells her collection online at Etsy.com.

Cross the threshold of this retro temple of drool-inducing, naughty lace and silk confections and you'll feel as if you're intruding on the sumptuous dressing room of Rita Hayworth, Lana Turner, or any other Tinseltown bombshell of yesteryear we all fantasize about. Inside you'll discover hard-to-find marabou-covered slippers or peep-toe stilettos to go along with frilly panties, curve-cinching corsets, sheer chiffon peignoirs, Victorian-era bras, sexy silk stockings, and a rare, buttery-soft charmeuse camisole. Owner and designer Lauren Arkin also keeps her trove of vintage offerings stocked with beaded period costume jewelry priced in the $10 to $30 range; boasts shelves covered with antique perfume atomizers, vanity mirror sets, and sundry accessories; and creates custom lingerie for her clients. A knockout collection of black-and-white pictures of Marilyn Monroe lines the boutique's pastel-pink walls, heightening the sense that you have stumbled into a sex symbol's private closet. If you're looking to spice up bedroom romps with the pin-up girl in your life or transport your dream hunk to cloud nine, L.A. Boudoir is definitely the joint to visit to get the loins girded for some nasty, old-fangled mano a mano at surprisingly affordable prices. Hours are 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday.

Red thong and blue thong and orange thong and green thong. If you're looking for such there's only one place you belong. Neon-print Speedos and a gold-embossed jock strap. You won't find any such things at the mall's Gap. Enter the doors of midtown's Creative Male store. Its quirky selection certainly won't bore. Why you need such things isn't our business. What you wear under your suit is a personal decision. Maybe to spice things up in the bedroom, or a bachelor-party gag gift for a soon-to-be-groom. Don't feel you have to stick to boxers or a brief. Be adventuresome with what cradles your man beef.

Looking to cop a pair of those electric-blue-and-yellow "Entourage" LeBron 8 Nike kicks? Or maybe you've been saving to get your hands on those "Cool Grey" Air Jordan 11s? You could log on to eBay to find a rare pair of sneaks, or you could take a day trip to downtown Miami, where CJ Urban Wear serves up an exclusive selection of athletic shoes in Baskin-Robbins ice-cream colors. One wall features a time capsule dedicated to number 23's signature shoes from the time he entered the league as a Chicago Bull to his retirement in a Washington Wizards jersey. But you need Rick Ross money to shop at CJ's. Most shoes range from about $150 to $300 and max out at $1,350.

A model turned designer isn't exactly a new phenomenon. But when 21-year-old Anna Mixon started designing jewelry as a way to remain fashionable while earning a beginner model's wage, the hobby seemed unlikely to turn into a business. However, after Paramore frontwoman Haley Williams wore one of Mixon's pieces to the MTV Video Music Awards, the hand-crafted jewelry — Mixon by Anna Mixon — quickly gained a clientele looking for highly braggable, one-of-a-kind pieces. Mixon doesn't plan on slowing down either. Her signature swooping chains and gunmetal finish have complemented the designs of KRELwear and Nicole Miller and were the highlight of Fashion Week New Orleans this past March. Pieces, which run from a couple hundred dollars into the thousands, are available at Lace Nail & Beauty Lab in Miami Beach, or custom orders can be placed at annamixon.com.

They might as well call it Tattoo & Co. Body Art Gallery, because the professionals at this Westchester shop have mastered the crafts of tattooing and body piercing like it's nobody's business. They've been around since 2003, proudly (and safely) piercing Miami's counterculture one hole at a time. From Prince Alberts and hoods to nipples, nostrils, and navels, Tattoo & Co. is a one-stop destination for all things gnarly. Prices vary depending on the job, but expect to spend about $55 for a nose piercing. That includes jewelry, aftercare, and the sweet reward of freedom of expression.

Like a glowing brick of kryptonite, the shop's slime-green paint job dominates the Bird Road landscape. And the work produced inside is unique as well. That's because artist/owner James Rossi and his staff are committed to drawing your idea instead of depending on the generic flash work that covers the walls of most tattoo shops. Rossi is a classically trained artist with a bachelor of fine arts degree and the ability to make your vision a reality. He is covered in ink and has great respect and appreciation for the art form. Describe your idea, and Rossi or one of his team members will take it from concept to completion as you approve every step along the way. The shop is clean, comfortable, and gallery-like, with art hanging on the walls. Rossi grew up in the area, and his neighborhood custom shop is a testament to delivering quality work at affordable prices to friends, neighbors, and visitors alike.

[Redacted] — one of Miami's most notorious graffiti artists, hounded by police investigators for two decades — is known to ink here, and his work on skin is as clean, vibrant, and creative as the rich "vandalism" he leaves on highway signs and abandoned buildings throughout three counties. The gallery where he works, which holds graffiti and photography exhibitions in a big, comfortable studio adjacent to the tattooing area, is what Wynwood is supposed to be all about: gritty in origins but polished in presentation. [Redacted] is indeed an artiste, a title that comes with all inherent flakiness, so getting a tattoo from him might require a bit of legwork and patience. And while we're guessing [Redacted] wouldn't want his tag printed here, mention this award when you stop by the gallery. We've dropped enough clues to get you started in the right direction.

Once upon a time, about 15 years ago, a young boy in a Pokemon T-shirt astounded those who came to have their fortunes told with his soothsaying abilities. The boy is all grown up now, and they still come from all over the city to have their futures divined in the seashells he tosses in the back storage room. But they also come for the extensive selection of merchandise: religious figurines, candles, potions, fresh herbs, ground egg shells, books for divination, and white shirts, pants, jackets, and hats (including kids' sizes) for that Santería ceremony you and the family plan to attend next week. This is truly one-stop shopping for all of your spiritual needs.

In a city where looking good is the norm and staying connected a necessity, the least a girl can do is keep her nails nicely done while multitasking. At NailBar & Beauty Lounge — a loft-like, minimalist space with comfy white pedicure chairs, iPod docks, and back massagers — a girl doesn't have to disconnect. While a nail technician trims your cuticles and rubs your feet with a fruit-scented scrub, sip champagne and catch up on the news — or Facebook — on one of the salon's iPads. Plus NailBar applies gel polish that will last your entire summer vacation. OK, maybe not, but it will last longer than your average manicure and pedicure. Nail treatments here don't come cheap — a mani-pedi combo will set you back $55 — but it's the price you pay for pampering and pretty nails and toes while multitasking.

We know you sometimes have issues with those Asian nail salons, but this one is worth visiting if you're in the market for a good shellacking. No, that's not a nickname for some kind of Middle Eastern torture. Sheesh. It's a type of polish and treatment that makes manicures last about two weeks without a chip. DK is the number one place to go because not only does it carry at least 50 shades and four brands, but also there's always a manicurist available to treat your claws with care. The place is open seven days a week, and walk-ins are welcome, so your life can now be nail-drama free. DK is clean, doesn't smell like chemicals, charges $30 for a mani, and even has ample metered parking. You're welcome.

Editor's note: A previous version of this item used phrases from a Yelp.com review. The item has been rewritten to remove the wording.

Nicole "Nikki" Gravitt wields her scissors and blow dryer like a pixie spreading magic dust with her wand through an enchanted realm. The petite, ginger-haired Tampa native is one of Miami's most sought-out hairstylists. She can credit her disarming smile, casual demeanor, and remarkable work ethic. Gravitt learned the mastery of hair color under the tutelege of Brickell's cutting-edge Toni & Guy Hairdressing. And she mastered hair cutting by attending weeklong Vidal Sassoon boot camps. "It's pretty intense," she says. "You do one model after another." Customers also find it easy coming back because of her bubbly, easy-going personality. And she's not pushy about up-selling hair products and services, either. You will find Gravitt at Anastasia Mochanov, an eclectic salon on the second floor of a MiMo-style building at NE 72nd Street and Biscayne Boulevard. The salon is open Tuesday through Saturday 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., but you can request after-hours appointments.

OK, fine. Hello Kitty, appletinis, maxi pads, Lifetime movies, and wallpapering your home in Cathy comic strips are all things that are gag-worthy femme. But what if a gal wants to knock it down a notch and just be terribly girly? Well, Wynwood's Terribly Girly, a funky little photography studio that looks like a colorful mess of cool-chick chic, will support that desire like a great strapless bra. That's because the all-pussy-processing posse at TG specializes in pin-up portraits that will transform you from a Hialeah hottie into a straight-up boudoir bombshell. Start with a vintage makeover by a glam squad that consists of a makeup artist extraordinaire, a stylist who moonlights as a burlesque costume designer and performer (Aurora Natrix of Shameless Burlesque), and a hair sculptress who will finger-wave you into one fabulous female. Then end with a photography session with tattooed cutie, owner, and de facto leader Janette Valentine, who will snap and edit photos that are sure to flaunt your natural beauty. Or, at the very least, serve as some bad-ass profile pictures for your Cupid.com account.

Lenny Roudner deserves to have an image of his face next to the word precision in the dictionary. The Aussie doctor has performed more than 13,000 breast augmentations. No wonder he's been dubbed "Dr. Boobner." He has enhanced the racks of celebrities, centerfolds, socialites, and porn stars from Coral Gables to the Far East. He is the master who innovated the method of making an incision through the nipple area and under the muscle, as opposed to the usual practice of cutting under the breast. And having felt a few here and there over the past decade, we can attest to the soft, spectacular authenticity of Roudner-enhanced breasts.

What's better than a shop where you can buy purple wigs and feathered fake eyelashes? Well, a shop where you can buy purple wigs, feathered fake eyelashes, and anal beads, of course! Ricky's NYC stocks lots of hard-to-find hair products, novelty items, and cosmetics on its main floor. You can bring your grandmother and let her get lost in the selection of gray-covering hair dyes. Meanwhile, sneak up to the secret second floor and slip through the glittery curtain, you devilish sex fiend! There you will find dildos, vibrators, sex games, cock rings, edible underwear, flavored lube, and many other great items to shove into your orifices. The only trick now is to zip back down and check out before Granny waddles up behind you at the counter. "Sonny, what are you buying? That balloon is shaped like a lady!" Awkward!

Imagine our surprise when we discovered our "ultimate facial" began at our feet. Oh, yeah. We were escorted out to a sun-soaked balcony, treated to a cup of tea, and asked to plant our tootsies in a warm tub where — get this — the therapist got down on her knees and scrubbed us toe-to-knee and then rinsed our legs with water from a pitcher. Already relaxed, we were led inside, where we reclined on a soft, heated bed as our new best friend massaged our face with what seemed like a hundred delicious potions, including a caviar-based product and a sheet of marine proteins. The most wonderful part: none of those painful extractions that make us break out the next day. After some of the creams were smoothed on, we were treated to a foot massage and warming booties while our hands were doted on next. The whole experience lasted a blissful 90 minutes, and we'd gladly take 90 more.

The act of eyebrow threading is an odd and ancient one. First you choose the color thread — gold, magenta, white (Vogue claims fluorescent green and nude are all the rage this season) — and hand it to your threading technician, who, while you were making your color selection, was purifying a large needle for this holy act by chanting in Sanskrit, doing ballet squats, and wearing a shredded snakeskin braided with a banana peel on top of her head. After the tech has gotten the green light from Fabricala — the Goddess of Fabric — she shaves off your natural eyebrows, takes the purified threading needle, jams it into your forehead, and weaves you new brows. OK, not really, but taking a piece of thread, sticking the middle of it into the mouth, and weaving the rest of the thread through the fingers to create a triangle that plucks multiple hairs from the brow makes some people's imaginations run wild. Popular among Arabic cultures, the process takes a little longer than waxing, but the results are much more precise and there's no risk of burning, scarring, or hyperpigmentation. Blush Nail Lounge & Boutique — a girly, 1920s-inspired SoBe salon — does your face right for just $30 (that's 15 bucks a brow!). Take a seat at the back of the shop, close your eyes for 15 to 20 minutes, and open them to natural-looking, well-groomed eyebrows that complement the shape of your face. Just make sure to show your gratitude by tipping your threader — and leaving a banana peel for Fabricala.

That ruffled, I'm-too-busy-creating-art-to-care-about-my-hair look is harder to maintain than you think. And that bleached-out, blunt-edge cut that peeks out from a wide-brimmed fedora takes more than one drunken night ending with broken scissors, empty Clorox bottles, and a hairy bathroom floor. A more likely explanation for such a do is the small, spartan shop tucked between a graffiti mural and Jamaican patty shop where stylists live second lives as professional skateboarders, musicians, Back Door Bamby burlesque dancers, and illustrators. The shop itself is a double agent: During the day, it's a state-of-the-art, pristine salon stocked with Sebastian products and color treatments. At night, it turns into a "saloon," hosting art parties that often feature open bars, live painting, and local DJs. You'll want to show up incognito yourself — sporting nighttime sunglasses, a mysterious trench coat, and, most important, a fresh new cut.

You work for a global mail-carrying corporation, which means you wear brown short-shorts eight hours a day, you earn just below the national average income, and you didn't get a Christmas bonus last year. Don't ask how we know — that's not the point. This is: Despite the pedestrian nature of your life, you can still get your hair cut like a multimillionaire athlete. Hugo Tandron, founder of Headz Up Barbershop, is the official barber for the Florida Marlins. The Mr. T-bearded, heavily tattooed, reformed ex-con, who sets up a makeshift parlor adjacent to the Marlins' locker-room and has cut hair in at least eight Major League stadiums, is almost certainly the only official barber in the bigs. He has coiffed the likes of Gary Sheffield, Hanley Ramirez, Josh Johnson, Carlos Beltran, Carl Crawford, Miguel Cabrera, Johan Santana — you name the superstar, and he has most likely taken clippers to the guy's head. Dontrelle Willis once gave him a tricked-out vintage Chevy, and Brad Penny wrote Tandron an $850 check to travel to the Marlins' Jupiter spring-training facility to trim his beard. There's a reason players who can afford any fancy-schmancy stylist choose Tandron: He's a master of clean and sharp customized haircuts — the kind of work that adds a little pimp-walk to your gait when you glance in the mirror or face an opposing pitcher. Despite his A-list clientele, Tandron still charges a pittance — $15 — when he cuts regular guys' hair.

Every great flea market should have the following three things: incredibly low-priced produce, quirky vintage knickknacks, and delicious Colombian hot dogs. Tropicana Flea Market delivers on all fronts. Open Friday through Sunday from 7 to 7, el pulgero on NW 36th Street is an indoor/outdoor bazaar with more than 200 booths selling everything from $1 lettuce heads to discounted 600-thread-count bed sets. Need tires? No problem. A new bedroom set? Check. What about a pet hamster? Hell, yes! And most excellent of all, everything is mad-cheap 'cause it's a flea market. Then after you're done shopping, treat yourself to a Mimi's Perros Colombian-style hot dog and a can of Ironbeer.

There's nothing sleazier than a crappy dog-boarding place. You walk in and you're hit with the overwhelming twin scents of canine halitosis and petrified feces. All the dogs are behind bars and loudly acting crazed, like cast members in some Milo & Otis version of Oz. By the same token, screw the dog B&Bs — those ridiculous chateaus where the canines lie on miniature human beds, the caretakers dress in faux-tuxedos, and TV sets play Lassie or some such pandering idiocy. Dogs just want to be comfortable and fed. Their owners just want them to be safe. Any additional frills are irrelevant to the former party and wallet-draining to the latter. At Rio Pet Grooming, the dogs mingle during the day and sleep in comfortable cubicles — not cages — at night. They're filmed 24 hours a day, so the storeowner can watch them even when she's at home. Boarding costs $25 a night for small dogs and $30 to $40 for larger pups. And when you're back in town, some traumatizing experience won't have transformed your beloved mutt into a mouth-frothing Kujo.

Since launching in 2009, Miami Beach's free public Wi-Fi has taken some heat. Perhaps expectations were too high. The service was never meant to replace reliable home Internet service for every Beach resident, but when you're in a pinch and need to check your email on your laptop or download a new book on your Kindle, it does its duty. Sure, there are still kinks and limitations, but it's pretty easy to get a connection when you're sitting at an outdoor café or under a palm tree. Most of all, it's a step in the right direction — one we hope other Miami-Dade municipalities eventually follow.

Those of us who love the printed word are under attack. Tech companies come out with new and improved e-readers and tablets every month, while the magazine rack seems to shrink at the market, and even big-box bookstores are beginning to disappear. Getting our hands on those sweet, glossy pages has become more difficult than ever. Luckily, a few old-fashioned newsstands still dot the landscape. The grimy, bodega-like aesthetics of Mindy's News & Gift Shop certainly don't match the pretty looks of an iPad, but the selection here is unmatched. Where else in town can you pick up multiple magazines about niche topics such as pro biking and collector's toys while flipping through relevant editions of nearly every regional Vogue? Not only does Mindy's carry a wide selection of new mags, but also employees usually leave leftover copies of previous editions on the shelves, which is good news for those of us who forgot to pick up a copy of The New Yorker last week. We don't know how long it will be before digital issues made for tablet computers totally replace printed publications, but we'll treasure old-school newsstands such as Mindy's as long as they're around.

More than 400 bottles of wine line the aisles and back walls of Philippe Buchbinder and Jean-Luc Oizan Chapon's Miami Beach wine warehouse. The industrial-like space has a pleasant ambiance and houses not only a wine store but also a wine bar and bistro, making it a cool spot to either pick up a bottle to go or enjoy it right there at the U-shaped bar or outdoor bistro. The corkage fee is a modest $7.50, and the bottles — which cover the globe, from France to the States to Chile — mostly range in price from $10 to $30. A knowledgeable staff does a fine job helping you sort through the selection, even when you dash in not knowing exactly what you want. For special occasions, a glass-enclosed cellar houses pricier wine and champagne bottles starting at $35, with a $15 corkage.

Who wants to walk or drive all the way to some beer store to get an enormous quantity of beer? Ugh, barf. Clearly, the way a true luminary — we're thinking William "Refrigerator" Perry — would get beer for his beer party is by calling up the beer guy on his (beer?) phone and ordering it like some General Tso's chicken. Also, we might lose a sponsor for saying this, but Miller Lite tastes like DJ Pauly D's urine, bro. We are utterly sick and tired of Miami's dearth of premium beer. Yo Beer Guys delivers kegs (starting at $100), half-kegs (many less than $100), and tasting crates of really good export and micobrewery beers (most between $1 to $2 a bottle) — with names such as Bison Brewing, Baltika Zhiguli, Bedele, Bierbrouwerij De Koningshoeven Trappist (yes, we're looking at the B section of their website) — to your door without you or your friends having to put on pants and/or take the plastic cheese hats off your heads. There are also beer gift baskets with premium beers and cheese and crackers and stuff, which you will buy for your great-uncle Rodney's 82nd birthday, but then you'll forget to go to the post office to send it, and he'll die, and you'll mournfully be forced to eat and drink his gift. Mmm, tragedy beer. Agony cheese. Barf.

For Cubans, actually most Latinos, Jorge's Pharmacy is a place where you can buy those otherwise hard-to-find items: Maja-brand soaps and face powder, Fitina tablets (think Hispanic Focus Factor), a Mirta de Perales hair brush, and El Bebé champú. For non-Latinos, Jorge's is a throwback to B.C. (before CVS) — a time when you knew the name of the person bagging your Luden's throat drops and you felt comfortable enough with your pharmacist to discuss just about anything. What? Never stepped inside a drugstore smaller than a Walmart? Well, it's high time you did. Entering the time warp that is Jorge's also means you don't have to wait in line and the cashiers remind you of your grandmother. You might pay a bit more for items at this mom-and-pop than you would at a big-box drugstore, but the service and ambiance are priceless.

The pawnshop is the most maligned of all shopping institutions. It's the place where dreams (in the form of wedding bands) go to die and where lifelong cherished relics are traded for sweaty balls of cash that fund everything from next month's rent to this week's bail. But every so often, a shop like Don Z comes along that feels less like a money-hungry, grubby con artist and more like a smooth, slick-talking friend who dabbles in the art of brokering deals on interesting finds. Yeah, you might give him the side-eye and get a second opinion on the sly, but you trust that, at the very least, he won't mark up your sexy vintage camera something obscene after handing you the cash. And if you're a devotee of thrift-hunting, you might take a moment to sift through electronics, collectibles, and instruments, many sold outright to the store rather than as the result of default. The Don has been around for decades, and it shows — some patrons are so comfortable in the shop that they've made it a regular place to hang out and shoot the breeze. How many other pawnshops can claim the same?