My Uncle, My T-shirt

The shopping bag reads “Big Time Uncle Otis Store 26 Bellair Street Toronto.” It’s the first tip-off that the Uncle Otis Store isn’t just another boutique in Toronto’s trendy Yorkville neighborhood.

The shop was founded earlier this year by three friends who decided to sell their low-cost/high-design streetwear from a former art gallery.

Instead of displaying their color-zapped hip-hop T-shirts, flight jackets and sweatshirts on racks, they hung them in ornate gold frames--usually with the sleeves impishly hanging out.

And when the owners (25-year-old Leslie Whittaker, 24-year-old Robin Lewis and 36-year-old Roger O’Donnell) couldn’t find everything they wanted from their favorite makers, they conjured up an Uncle Otis line to fill the gaps. Indeed, Uncle Otis has since become “a way of life, an attitude and . . . uncle to many.”

The best items in the shop include “Uncle Otis Landing Gear” patches, “One World One Otis” T-shirts and a “Voodoo Solid 100% Otis” mock turtlenecks (pictured).

The group expects to supply the Uncle Otis line to “carefully chosen stores” in other cities soon. And Whittaker has been in L.A this week scouting locations.

I’D RATHER BUNGEE JUMP FROM WATTS TOWERS THAN SHOP: Brian Murphy, the internationally acclaimed architectural designer whose creations run from Dennis Hopper’s “paramilitary suburban” home to Art Options’ “tropical industrial” gift shop, is strictly a catalogue shopper. Nothing exotic: L. L. Bean, Sears, J. Crew.

“I’m even so bold as to buy shoes out of catalogues, which shows you how much I dislike shopping,” says the Santa Monica-based surfer.

“At Christmas, though, the pressure becomes too great. I finally capitulate and race off, usually to Rodeo Drive, because Christmas shopping on Rodeo is wonderful. You walk in, they give you a flute of champagne and say, ‘That briefcase is only $600.’ ”

In his search for the perfect gifts, Murphy also calls up his friend Jane Kennedy, owner of Santa Monca’s Palmetto, the most adventuresome bath/body/aroma-therapy emporium west of Rue du Faubourg-St-Honore:

“I just call in the name, age, sex and high and low (cost) parameters. They pick out stuff for me,” he says.

Elsewhere, Murphy buys gifts he likes but with nobody in mind and leaves them in his car.

“As I ramble around during the holidays, I just pull out a present and say, ‘This will fit this person over here,’ wrap it in the car and deliver it.”