ReRun
707 NE Fremont St., 517-3786, portlandrerun.com. Neighborhood consignment shop ReRun is the coolest garage 
and yard sale around. Outside, a sea of used furniture—both immaculate 
and questionable in condition—is on display daily. Inside is a sea of 
vintage clothing that veers female but has ample options for dudes. But 
the real joy of ReRun lies in treasure hunting through antiques, toys 
and other bits of randomness that make for perfect white-elephant 
fodder. Where else does a bust of Samuel L. Jackson share a shelf with a
 kabuki doll, or the 
Six Million Dollar Man
 board game feel 
comfortable among boxes of checkers? The place is littered with goodies 
like ancient Super 8 cameras (some functional) and rusty railroad 
spikes. For the last-minute shopper looking for an oddity, you can't go 
wrong.
 
Buy this: A ragged Iron Maiden leather jacket ($20), complete with hand-painted Eddie the Head. Get it while you can.
A Childrenâs Place
4807 NE Fremont St., 284-8294, achildrensplacebookstore.com. Like a little bookwormâs version of 
downtown toy store Finneganâs, A Childrenâs Place is stocked ceiling to 
floor with childlike wonder, only of the literary variety. Sure, there 
are
 board games, stuffed animals, trinkets, baubles and the like, but the 
locally owned (for more than 30 years) independent bookstore is more a 
playground for the mind, with massive sections covering everything from 
science to science fiction, fantasy, fart jokes, young-adult literature 
and beyond. Add a rocking chair for sample reads and an exceedingly 
helpful staff (a request for recommendations for a locally written book 
for a precocious 12-year-old prompted a 15-minute bookshelf safari 
courtesy of owner Pam Erlandson), and youâve got the kind of bookstore 
experience that has fallen by the wayside: friendly, warm and full of 
discovery.
Buy this: Portlander's Bart King's The Big Book of Gross Stuff ($19.99) is loads of icky fun, but the place is packed with more local authors than Wordstock (and more copies of Wildwood than Colin Meloy's basement).
Green Dog Pet Supply
4327 NE Fremont St., 528-1800, greendogpetsupply.com. In Portland, dogs are treated as 
crotch-sniffing royalty akin in status to cats in ancient Egypt. Theyâre
 pampered accordingly. This being PDX, canines are just as 
environmentally conscious as people. Well, maybe notâthese are animals 
that eat garbage, given the chance. But you wouldnât know that walking 
into Green Dog Pet Supply, a small boutique specializing in 
environmentally friendly products, from leashes and harnesses to balls, 
dog (and cat) beds and beyond. The real draw, though, are the treats, 
which range from real refrigerated meats to gourmet rawhide chews, moose
 knuckles (not that kind), organic kibbles and bits and other culinary 
delights for Rover to swallow whole without appreciating that theyâre 
made of free-range meat. At least when the dog eats its own feces, itâll
 be extra organic.
Buy this: Wholesome Hide Bacon in a Blanket 
($5.99), a rawhide bone wrapped in pork skin, because dogs, like all 
Portlanders, love their bacon. (Yes, it does have a bacony flavor. And 
yes, I licked one.)
Gazelle Natural Fiber Clothing
4100 NE Fremont St., 288-3422, naturalfiberclothingportland.com. Entering former downtown goddess 
outfitters Gazelle is like walking into a particularly fashion-centric 
meditation center. New-Agey music provides the soundtrack to a store 
where nag champa fills the nose and workers greet you with quiet warmth.
 But there are treasures to be had for the earthy women on the shopping 
list, including a bevy of purses, dresses, hand-woven scarves, hats and 
blouses (all made in the Northwest) that would seem right at home at the
 Oregon Country Fair. The storeâs most popular section, though, is a 
back wall full of hand-crafted earrings and medallions from such 
designers as Susan Klein and Jazzola, ranging in style from simple 
geometric shapes to elaborate (and functional) chimes that hang from the
 earlobes. Namaste, apparently, doesnât mean you canât look good while 
finding enlightenment.
Buy this: Handcrafted earrings and medallions ($6.99-$59.99), which can be converted to pins free of charge.
Garden Fever
3433 NE 24th Ave., 287-3200, gardenfever.com. Part nursery, part neighborhood 
garden-supply shop and part agrarian museum (dig all those nifty antique
 gardening tools adorning the walls), Garden Fever offers one-stop 
shopping for both green thumbs and those whose thumbs are slightly 
wilted. Aside from the ample supply of garden plants, the storeâs 
biggest strength is its huge collection of garden decor, with fountains,
 Grecian statue heads, chimes and the like, making ideal gifts for 
people who treat their gardens as Zen oases.
Buy this: For the ambitious 
gardener, Japanese rain chains ($39.99-$159.99) are a twofold gift—a 
series of linked, decorative funnels that turn rainfall into art while 
replacing downspouts. You'll have to dig a French drain, so a shovel is a
 must—Garden Fever has those, too.
Paperjam Press
4730 NE Fremont St., 238-5777, paperjampress.me. Christmas cards are so boring. Who the 
hell needs another picture of a Christmas tree? Or a goddamn snowflake? 
How often do we even have snowflakes here? Sure, the thought is nice, 
but most cards are doomed to be kindling. Beaumontâs Paperjam Press has a
 solution for turning holiday cards into actual gifts in the form of 
fully customized, digitally printed photo cards. Why send your grandma 
back in Jersey a card with a snowman on it when you can send her a photo
 of you doing something uniquely Portlandianâ¦you know, baking while 
biking or occupying something while knitting or some other thing people 
back East think we do. Why not put a little more thought into sending 
the easiest gift ever?
Buy this: Customized photo cards 
come in various styles—postcards, fold-overs—and in stacks of 25 ($60 
and up) and 100 ($125 and up). Envelopes are included.
WWeek 2015