For 11 months out of the year, Screaming Mimis is a vintage haven. Known for its mix of costume pieces, retro steals, and one-of-a-kind designer finds, the store and its owner, Laura Wills, have a devoted client base that includes Marc Jacobs and Lynn Yaeger. When Wills opened the shop, in 1978, one of her first hires was Cyndi Lauper. Lauper’s career took off, and Wills styled her from an ever growing trove. Much of the original Screaming Mimis staff can be seen dancing in the “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” music video. Forty-four years later, Screaming Mimis has moved a few times, finally landing at its current Chelsea location, where Wills continues to hire only stylists as salespeople. For the month of October, however, Screaming Mimis transforms into a Halloween paradise. Whether you need pearls, a mask, or a full period piece, a Screaming Mimis stylist will give you the goods. (screamingmimis.com) —Clara Molot

All too often, when designers attempt to revamp the basic T-shirt, they overcomplicate things. It can be tempting to add drapes, cutouts, prints, patterns, and even sparkles in an attempt to make a cotton layering piece less mundane—but one must resist. Livotte, a boutique brand out of London, is rethinking this staple with minimalism in mind. Founded by Beth Pollak and Delphine McNeill, the company has drummed up a collection of shirts made in the U.K. from a custom cotton-Lycra blend. By adding an ever so slightly puffed shoulder or an elongated sleeve, these shirts manage to look dressed-up yet maintain an attitude of comfort and relaxation. The Sienna, with a pleated neck and shoulder, has the virtues of both a turtleneck and a fanciful blouse. If one is tempted to buy more than one—there are five colors on offer—we understand. ($150, livotte.com) —Ashley Baker

If we could choose only one collection to live in for the entire winter season, it would be the new Cocooning range from Loro Piana. There are nubby turtlenecks, enveloping cardigans, cheeky thigh-high socks, ribbed short-shorts, and even loose little tees, all made of glorious cashmere—along with every other item one could possibly need to make it all the way to April in sublime comfort and style. While Loro Piana does away with the difficulties of getting dressed, economics dictate that we cannot, sadly, invest in the entire shebang for ourselves. We will be selecting a few treasures for gifts, starting with the silk-and-cashmere booties. Or should it be the hot-water-bottle holder? ($1,275; loropiana.com) —Ashley Baker

“You haven’t heard the last of them,” Homer Simpson once said of Dexys Midnight Runners, the one-hit wonder behind “Come On Eileen.” But the joke was on American audiences; in the U.K., Dexys was an institution, with a trio of excellent albums to its name. The second of those, 1982’s Too-Rye-Ay, the one bearing “Come On Eileen,” has now turned 40—and grown a shaggy subtitle for its re-release. That subtitle bespeaks a fussy vision; lead singer Kevin Rowland was part auteur, part autocrat, endlessly revising his band’s sound, attire, and personnel. To wit: after the first Dexys LP, 1980’s rousing Searching for the Young Soul Rebels, Rowland compelled his horn section to take up the viola and cello—to mixed results. Course-correcting, he pilfered the idea of using violins—and the slow-fast dynamic for “Come On Eileen”—from a demo by former bandmate Kevin Archer. Rowland also snagged the demo’s violinist, Helen Bevington, whom he renamed “Helen O’Hara” for maximum Celtic vibes, and with whom he conducted a doomed romance. (Genius steals.) The resulting music—delivered by an affably ragged iteration of Dexys, their dungarees immortalized on MTV—was disarming and irresistible, a counter-intuitive hybrid of Celtic and soul impulses. Wherever there were ears, “Come On Eileen” was a hit. The album’s mix, though, never sounded quite right to Rowland. A late, neglected triumph (1985’s Don’t Stand Me Down), addiction, and the dole office lay ahead for Rowland—but rehab and redemption, too. Archer now receives royalties for his influence on “Come On Eileen,” and Rowland, in recent years, has recorded some of his best music while stewarding the Dexys legacy. The new edition, on vinyl and CD, Too-Rye-Ay (As It Should Have Sounded), corrects the original mix, replaces the cover art, adds bonus tracks, and ultimately offers a fresh take on a scruffy classic. (spotify.com) —Jason Guriel

Top Hat, on the Lower East Side, is one of the few stores in Manhattan where every object for sale seems thoughtfully chosen. To stock her tiny, remarkably uncluttered shop, owner Nina Allen imports trinkets and home goods from around the world. They’re objects you can’t find anywhere else in the city: Japanese masking tape printed with fruits and animals, German pencil sharpeners, and hand-painted Dutch tiles. Opened in 2010, Top Hat still doesn’t have a Web site. It’s for the best: the well-curated selection shouldn’t be hastily purchased online. (instagram.com) —Jensen Davis

Watching Magpie Murders is like drinking a double-shot espresso: it’s jolting. Based on a novel by the British mystery writer Anthony Horowitz, the PBS adaptation tells the story of an author, Alan Conway (Conleth Hill), and his editor, Susan Ryeland (Lesley Manville), who awaits his latest manuscript about a detective named Atticus Pünd (Tim McMullan). Conway is found dead, which sends Ryeland searching for his missing pages. With a hall-of-mirrors-style twist, the show offers a parallel track to this modern-day mystery, flashing back and forth to 1950s London, where Pünd is attempting to solve the murder story in Conway’s novel. The best part of this meta detective story: at the end of the labyrinth, viewers can expect a satisfying resolution. (pbs.org) —Carolina de Armas