Twenty-Four Hours on the Darker Side of Grand Rapids

There are plenty of tourist-approved ways to spend a day in Grand Rapids, Michigan. You could visit museums, wander through Frederik Meijer Gardens, photograph the city skyline, or sample enough craft beer to understand why they call this place Beer City.

But that's not my Grand Rapids.

My perfect twenty-four hours here involves corned beef hash, thrift-store racks, vintage treasures, witchy shops, horror movies, Mexican food, and dancing to industrial music until my feet remind me I'm not twenty-one anymore.

In other words, I'd spend twenty-four hours exploring the slightly darker, considerably weirder side of Grand Rapids.

And I'd start with breakfast.

Morning: Corned Beef Hash and Retail Therapy

The first stop is Anna's House, near Woodland Mall.

I'm a creature of habit when I find something I love, and here it's the corned beef hash and eggs. If I'm planning a full day of shopping, wandering, digging through thrift stores, and eventually dancing half the night away, I'm going to need a real breakfast.

Fortunately, this part of town also offers an immediate opportunity to walk some of it off.

Woodland Mall and the surrounding shopping area put me dangerously close to several of my favorite places to browse. World Market is one of those stores where I can walk in needing absolutely nothing and leave wondering how I ever survived without some strange imported snack, decorative object, or bottle of something delicious.

Then there's Barnes & Noble, because I am physically incapable of walking past a bookstore without going inside.

And Hot Topic?

Of course I'm going to Hot Topic.

But the malls are merely a warm-up.

Grand Rapids has far more interesting shopping waiting for me.

Late Morning: Let the Thrifting Begin

One of the things I love about the Grand Rapids area is that there is no shortage of secondhand shopping. You could easily build an entire weekend around thrift stores alone.

For my perfect twenty-four hours, though, I'd eventually make my way toward Leonard Street.

First stop: Helping Hands Mission Thrift.

This is the kind of thrift shopping I love—the possibility that something unusual is hiding between two completely ordinary things. There's a treasure-hunt quality to secondhand shopping that traditional retail can never duplicate. You aren't simply choosing what you want from twenty identical versions hanging on a rack.

You're searching.

Sometimes you find nothing.

Sometimes you find the thing.

And that's what keeps thrifters coming back.

From there, I'd head to Flashback on Leonard, which is an absolute must for anyone who loves vintage.

Flashback isn't simply about finding something old. It's about finding something with personality. Clothing, accessories, costumes, collectibles—the kind of pieces that make you stop and imagine who owned them, where they wore them, and what stories they might carry.

I don't want my wardrobe to look like everyone else's.

Vintage stores make that pretty easy.

Afternoon: Things Get Witchy

Eventually, my shopping trip would take a decidedly more mystical turn.

Grand Rapids has developed a wonderful collection of shops for people whose tastes run toward crystals, tarot, oddities, witchcraft, and the generally unusual.

The 12th House would be on my itinerary for exactly that reason. It's the kind of place where I want to slow down and actually look rather than rush from rack to rack.

Then I'd head north toward Plainfield Avenue and Black Cat Bodega.

If your ideal shopping experience involves a little darkness, witchcraft, metaphysical goodies, oddities, and things you probably won't find sitting on the shelves at Target, you've entered my territory.

At this point, however, breakfast has become a distant memory.

It's time for Mexican food.

Lunch: Los Portales

Since I've already made my way into the Plainfield area, lunch has an obvious destination: Los Portales.

A perfect twenty-four hours isn't the time for grabbing a protein bar from the bottom of my purse because I don't want to interrupt my shopping.

We're sitting down.

We're eating.

We're recharging.

Because I have another stop to make—and this one could potentially destroy whatever remains of my spending money.

Horror Heaven at Alive Again

I haven't actually made it to Alive Again yet.

That's exactly why it belongs in my perfect Grand Rapids day.

Alive Again is a horror specialty store on Plainfield Avenue packed with the kinds of things that make someone like me immediately forget she was trying to save money: horror movies, physical media, memorabilia, books, collectibles, and plenty of VHS tapes.

Yes, VHS.

Some of us remember the glorious days when watching a horror movie involved rewinding the tape when you were finished.

For someone who loves horror, vintage media, and nostalgia, this place sounds less like a store and more like a trap specifically designed for my bank account.

I accept my fate.

Besides, after an entire day of shopping, it's time to check into the hotel, change clothes, darken the makeup, put on something black—as if I weren't already wearing black—and prepare for the real reason I'm spending the night in Grand Rapids.

We're going dancing.

After Dark: CHVRCH

This is where my perfect Grand Rapids day really becomes mine.

CHVRCH.

Goth. Industrial. Darkwave. Alternative music.

Dancing.

No matter where the event happens to be held, if CHVRCH is happening while I'm in Grand Rapids, that's where I want to spend my night.

There is something different about walking into a space where the music, clothing, atmosphere, and people all make sense to you.

For a few hours, the outside world disappears.

The stores are closed. The day's purchases are waiting back at the hotel. Tomorrow's responsibilities don't matter yet.

There is only music.

Bass.

Darkness.

Movement.

And that wonderful feeling of hearing a song begin and immediately knowing you need to be on the dance floor.

I would stay until my feet hurt.

Probably longer.

Because apparently I make questionable decisions when industrial music is involved.

Somewhere Around 2 A.M.: Bed

Eventually, even I have to admit defeat.

My Grand Rapids home away from home is Candlewood Suites Grand Rapids Airport.

I like extended-stay hotels because they feel slightly less like hotels and slightly more like temporary apartments. Candlewood's suites have kitchens, which is especially convenient when you've spent the day collecting snacks you absolutely did not need.

After hours of shopping followed by hours of dancing, though, I'm not cooking anything.

I'm taking off my boots.

I'm looking through whatever treasures I bought.

I'm probably telling myself I spent too much money.

Then I'm falling into bed.

The Next Morning: One Last Treasure Hunt

Twenty-four hours aren't over just because I went to sleep.

The next morning calls for one final Grand Rapids ritual:

The Goodwill Outlet on Prairie Parkway.

If regular thrifting is treasure hunting, shopping the Goodwill bins is archaeology.

There is no leisurely browsing through beautifully arranged racks here. You dig.

You search.

You wonder why you're touching something.

You occasionally question every decision that brought you to this moment.

And then you uncover something amazing buried beneath a pile of completely unremarkable clothing and remember exactly why you came.

It's unpredictable.

It's messy.

It's fun.

And it's one of my favorite ways to thrift.

Eventually, though, the clock starts ticking toward home.

There's just enough time for one more meal.

The Final Meal: The Mitten

Before beginning the roughly hour-and-a-half drive home—or, let's be realistic, before squeezing in one last shopping stop—I'd head to The Mitten Brewing Company for gluten-free pizza.

Housed in historic Engine House No. 9, an old Victorian firehouse built in 1890, The Mitten combines two things that don't necessarily seem destined to go together: craft beer and baseball. The baseball theme is everywhere, from the name itself to the memorabilia decorating the walls, giving the place a fun, nostalgic atmosphere that feels especially appropriate after a weekend spent hunting for treasures from the past.

But I'm here for the pizza.

More specifically, the pizza flight.

Instead of committing to just one pizza, a flight lets you sample six different specialty pizzas served on a wooden paddle. It's what I always get because choosing only one flavor when I could have six seems like an unnecessary hardship. Even better, The Mitten offers gluten-free crust, so I don't have to miss out on one of my favorite Grand Rapids food traditions.

After twenty-four hours of shopping, eating, thrifting, witchy wandering, horror nostalgia, dancing, sleeping, digging through bins, and somehow shopping again, sitting inside an old firehouse and working my way through a flight of pizza feels like the appropriate finale to the food portion of my adventure.

Because I'm not quite finished with Grand Rapids yet.

There's still vinyl to hunt down.

One Last Spin: A Final Stop for Vinyl

Full from pizza, I wouldn't quite be ready to point the car toward home.

There's time for one more stop.

I'd head back downtown to Vertigo Music and spend the last little bit of my Grand Rapids adventure flipping through vinyl.

Record stores have the same appeal for me as thrift stores and vintage shops: you never quite know what you're going to find. I could walk in looking for something specific and leave with an album I'd completely forgotten existed—or discover something I've never heard before simply because the cover caught my attention.

And there's something about physically flipping through records that scrolling through a streaming service will never replace.

The artwork.

The liner notes.

The ritual of pulling a record from its sleeve, placing it on the turntable, and dropping the needle.

After spending part of my twenty-four hours digging through vintage clothing and another part surrounded by VHS tapes, ending the trip with another piece of physical media feels appropriate.

Maybe I'd find some goth or industrial vinyl to commemorate the previous night's dancing. Maybe an old favorite. Maybe something completely unexpected.

That's half the fun.

Eventually, though, I'd have to stop shopping.

Seriously.

My bank account would insist.

Then—with the car a little more crowded than when I arrived, a new record or two tucked safely among my thrifted treasures, and about an hour and a half of Michigan highway ahead of me—I'd finally point the car toward home.