40 South
We’re always on the hunt for that which seems unfindable — or just plain unlikely: brooches, hats, and handbags from the 1940s, drink trays from the 1950s, sunglasses from the ’60s, thigh-high white boots from the ’70s, and anything fluorescent from the 1980s. We trawl the cluttered Internet aplenty, but sometimes we want to touch and try, too. The question is, where do we go?
Answer: lots of places. The city is well-colonized with little retail joints that specialize in all things quirky, curious, retro, or repurposed. You just have to look a little harder to find them. Until now. As you already know, small business owners are defined by their get-up-and-go energy, uncompromising creativity, and obsessions bordering on the clinical (in a good way). Turns out that collectively they comprise a network that’s something of a looser version of the Skull & Bones society, a casual confederation of members who talk one another up and help one another out. And now this crew appears to have a skipper. Brooks Morris, who owns Buckaroo’s Mercantile (5 Brookline Street, Cambridge, 617.492.4792), a mecca of retro curios, has published The Eclectic Shopper’s Guide, a nifty pamphlet with a lowkey, attitude-free, DIY look to help the intrepid consumer navigate the side streets and retail carnivals of Boston and beyond. Best part? It’s free! Find it at your local idiosyncratic outpost.
We sat down and talked with Morris about Boston’s underground, overthetop retail culture, and thanked him for reminding us that amid the clamor of corporations, it’s the small businesses that can make the biggest impressions.
Salmagundi
Q: Small businesses can be like a one-man variety show. You’re so busy dashing about to antique fairs and running your own business. What made you decide to take on this project?
A: I actually did one about eight years ago and want to do it again for the same reasons now. When I first moved to Boston, I was like, “Where do I go?” And people told me really stupid places, all these places I had no interest in going to. Twelve years ago, I was visiting a friend in Seattle and someone had done something similar. With that guide, I was able to just walk around to 12 different stores in a day. When I run into folks who own Magpie in Davis Square, we always talk about how we all have similar issues with people finding us. I send people there all the time and vice-versa. We’re all in the same situation. We’re trying to stay afloat and draw new customers. Sure, all the funky little stores get the funky little people, but there are a lot of people who don’t go out of their neighborhood very much, and that’s one reason. If you have something in front of you on paper as opposed to someone saying, “Go here,” that’s more of an incentive — or even just a reminder — to go there.
Q: The surest way to get someone somewhere is to personally invite them. You had each business owner write up his or her own store. Was that a way to make it more of a personal invitation?
A: I was interested to see what each store owner had to say about their place.
Grand
Q: You feature near-institutions, like Cheapo Records in Central Square and the Garment District, and newer stores, like Salmagundi and 40 South Street in Jamaica Plain and Grand in Union Square. What’s the criteria for the stores you’ve included?
A: There’s really only loose guidelines that I’m looking for: stores that are striving to be different in whatever way that may be. I hate having to define things. Stores that create or fill a niche, like Cheapo Records, have been around forever, one of the last places where you can go and get that old recordstore experience. For better or for worse, you’re subjected to the owner’s personality.
