Me: What the hell is going on with Von Dutch, anyway?
Fashion editor: It's just the newest trend. I can't explain it.
Me: Well, when is it going to be over?
Fashion editor: I would give it two months, tops.

Since I was given a drop-dead date at which the Reign of Aston Kutcher & Company In Trucker Hats would end, I've been anxiously awaiting it. And finally the day has come: Name the last time you saw a sorority girl with playfully faux-punk tendencies and her over-muscled boyfriend – the cornerstone of the Von Dutch market – out and about at the hip nightclub that just opened in Chicago 's hottest up-and-coming neighborhood. The answer? Months ago. I'm happy to report the Reign has ended.

However, the Von Dutch marketing department gets a nod, as it did great work for a trend that burned hot and fast. The Chicago store's location at 1133 N. State Street was the right place at the right time, which saved this section's rating.

Giant wastes of corporate space: Slowly anti-gentrifying the Gold Coast. Rating: 5.6.
The fine art of being a critic is to seize upon those points overlooked by the causal consumer and to elevate those flaws to prime importance. For example, you can look at an otherwise flawless piece of photography and see that guy in the background making that stupid, I-know-you're-taking-this-picture face, missing the points of the entire work. If the work of art is solid enough, the point of the piece still rings true, and can take into account the chaotic nature of the world it reflects.

The boarded-up building two doors down from Carmine's is nothing like that. It's just a blighted, boarded building that's a giant waste of space.

But let's play architectural critic for a moment. Assume the intersection of Rush and State represents that Platonic ideal to which all things aspire, full of happy consumer culture that serves as the lifeblood of a major metropolitan area. Further assume the closed, wasted space of a building in the intersection can do no good, and will only bring down the values of property around it, creating a black hole of negative real estate. As an isolated phenomenon, it sure gives the area a rustic feel. I'm the architecture critic here, and it's just a cool thing to see. This aspect of the review would have scored much lower, but the closed building adds some personality.

Target-ing your voting practices with vague Anderson Cooper look-alikes. Rating: 7.7.
I have to be honest: I have a weak spot for CNN host and Details columnist Anderson Cooper. I think it happened when I read one of his articles on nail-biting – one of my vices – that made him seem, well, more human somehow. So the Target billboard above the Corner Bakery was all the more welcoming, seeing as a Cooper clone was prominently displayed holding hands with this plastic wife, hawking Target products and telling me to vote. It was all a billboard that carried the promise of all the right elements: designer home trinkets, political activism and beautiful people.

While the scene created in the ad was admirable – the entire message, apart from the selling of Target products – was to implore the viewer to get out and vote, which is a worthy cause. However, it seems odd that a retailer like Target, which has made its mark on the American psyche by offering designer goods at affordable prices, would place a billboard in one of the city's most affluent nightspots. A more prime location would seem to be Lakeview, or even parts of Lincoln Park , not a neighborhood that has a Bentley dealership two blocks down Rush. But who am I to argue? Once in a while, I suppose even the city's rich and famous like tacky Isaac Mizrahi crap that would look better in my just-out-of-college apartment.

The good, the bad and the Gold Coast.
State and Rush Streets, throughout most of Chicago , run parallel. However, in the Gold Coast, when it matters the most, some of the city's most affluent roads converge to create an area custom-created for ostentatious displays of money. And oh, is it fun.

Final rating: 7.1.