Phawker headquarters itself in a secure undisclosed location on the mean cobblestoned streets of the O.C. and not a day goes by on the nearby stretch of North Third when we don’t find ourselves accosted, albeit pleasantly so, by a pack of suburban Jersey coeds, dressed to the nines in their best approximation of season four Sex In The City. Usually, they are being skippered by a hip mom in a furry bucket hat and she’s the one that usually asks, “excuse me can you tell me where…” and we always finish their sentences for them: “Let me guess, Third Street Habit. You’re actually standing right in front of it.” Then they apologize for the duh-ness of the question, thank you profusely and hurry on their merry way. We don’t mind, it’s better than having telling to tell rabid, brace-faced packs of babysitters where the Real World House is (“Your standing right in front of it”). Besides, we’re happy to help the cause of superior boutique retailing. It’s one of our many pet causes, along with saving the republic, re-inventing the media wheel and figuring out which alt-weekly has the sharpest cover this week. And many of the best-dressed ladies in Philadelphia tell us that Third Street Habit is their very favorite clothing store in the whole wide world. And then they tell us to leave them alone or they are gonna call the police.
