Bishop Arts on a Friday Night

Across the Houston Street Viaduct into Oak Cliff, the skyline going gold-pink-purple in the rearview. Bishop Arts: six blocks of 1920s brick, the most walkable neighborhood in a city not designed for walking.

Oddfellows in a former Odd Fellows lodge — pressed tin ceiling, weekly cocktail menu, patio of very well-dressed people in a place trying hard to seem casual. Spinster Records and Top Ten Records within shouting distance, because Bishop Arts believes two record shops is necessary, not redundant. Both are right. Emporium Pies: line out the door, Drunken Nut pie (bourbon, chocolate, pecans) legitimately worth crossing a state line for.

Davis Street has wide sidewalks, string lights, the feel of a small-town main street permanently celebrating. A gallery showing contemporary Chicano art next to a Southern comfort restaurant next to a vintage shop run by a woman who dates any garment by its zipper. Bishop Arts is a correction to the Dallas stereotype. Everything here is small, old, and stubborn.