There's something about a used bookstore that makes you feel both rich and smart. 

Those are two feelings I'd like to hold onto.

My grandma used to take me to Smith Family Bookstore on rainy afternoons when I was a kid. I remember having the liberty to pick out a Babysitter's Club book to take home as my very own...a rare luxury. 

When I was in college, that same bookstore was on campus. It was up a set of dirty carpeted stairs, right next door to a comic book store. They made you check your backpack at the counter, and the clerk always gave me attitude about the weight of my camera/laptop/textbook filled bag that didn't quite fit into the cubbies. It was impossible to find anything I wanted without asking said grumpy clerk for direction.

I loved that store. There was something about getting lost in cluttered aisles—sipping my complicated beverage order from the cafe across the street—that made me feel deliciously young and hipster. Since I went to college in my late 20s, that was a blessed feeling. I felt like I belonged there. 

Here's my re-brand of Smith Family Bookstore. An attempt to capture a little nostalgia and a little sense of belonging—two things the store always gave me.