It was Halloween 2011, and I was piecing together my droog costume. Any fan of “A Clockwork Orange” knows the basics of the outfit: white shirt, white pants, black bowling hat, walking stick, fake eyelashes, a pair of bloody eyeballs.

I had all of the above except for the white pants, which were near impossible to find. After a day of scouring Ann Arbor, I finally found the pants at the Salvation Army – which I know should have been the first place I checked. But my search did lead me to some interesting places that I had never even noticed before, and I picked up some good Christmas shopping intel. Here’s what I found:

Ragstock

I started with what I knew, which was American Apparel and Urban Outfitters. They are the commercial monsters of downtown Ann Arbor clothing retailers, and, while they didn’t have my white pants, they did have some interesting stuff. Every time I’m scheduled for a black and white photo shoot for an eccentric magazine, I just don’t know how to dress. Turns out, American Apparel is the go-to place for that. Urban Outfitters, the hipster-chic basement of the State Theater, usually only sees my business during the Ann Arbor Art Fair (when they have ridiculous deals). But I may be returning much sooner than that because Urban is a great place to find Christmas gifts for those people that you have no idea how to buy for. They have an impressive collection of interesting oddities – from R2-D2 alarm clocks to joke books to vinyl records. They even have South Park collectibles (so, if you know me and are planning on getting me something for Christmas, Urban wouldn’t be a terrible place to start).

Star Vintage

Having struck out at the aforementioned fashion landmarks, I narrowed my scope to some of the hole-in-the-wall places. The Automobile Store on Liberty Street was a chameleon of a business, almost trying not to be seen. Their rustic little basement was full of high-quality flannel, vintage University of Michigan sweaters and other wintery accessories that gave off some kind of Upper-Peninsula-hipster vibe. Competing for the title of hardest place to find was State Street’s Star Vintage Apparel. A labyrinth of underground hallways led to a delightfully cramped floor space of randomly compiled clothes, and the back of the store was a time portal to a room of retro furniture and household appliances and decorations from the mid-twentieth century – all available to buy. These stores were nostalgic and alluring, but I had white pants to find, so I soldiered on.

If you haven’t been to Ragstock, it’s worth the walk to Liberty Street. Five-dollar flannels and shirts, vintage jackets, Japanese baseball jerseys and the most impressive ugly Christmas sweater collection I’ve ever seen are just a few reasons to check this place out. They also had full-body, multi-colored gorilla costumes. And chicken suits as well, to whom that may concern.

The Get Up

By this time my legs were giving out, craving electrolytes and white pants, so I tried one more place before driving to the Salvation Army. The Getup on State Street was tiny, but packed with high-quality vintage apparel including belts, jewelry, dresses, shoes and boots and even Catholic War Veteran’s jackets and coats made of rabbit fur (new hipster trend?). They were on the pricier side, but their merchandise seemed carefully selected and authentic. (No droog getup, though.)

As I traversed Ann Arbor again later that night, no longer a consumer of retail but a fearless and loathsome droog, I kept all these places in the back of my mind. I won’t be able to re-gift my now-useless droog apparel to everyone on my shopping list, so when the cold Christmas season comes, it helps to know where the holes-in-the-wall are.