Calling all ‘freaks, misfits and weirdos’: Owner of The Alley is looking for a successor

Mark Thomas estimates that he’s traveled 4 million miles around the world on a never-ending quest of “looking for weird s—. If you’ve ever been to his store, The Alley, you know he’s been successful in the mission.

From the racks of chains and spikes that could double as jewelry and weapons to the smell of fresh leather jackets and boots that fill the air to an overstock of Count Dracula dolls (complete with “death certificates”) that line metal shelves, Thomas has filled the counterculture emporium with the oddest and finest knick-knacks, art and apparel since 1976.

In the process, he’s also become Chicago’s go-to outfitter for punks, metalheads, goths, bikers and anyone who lives and dies by the store’s motto, which greets visitors on the signage above its skeleton-flanked doors at the Avondale store: “A safe place for freaks, misfits and weirdos.”

“I think it’s important that people who are not understood, or different from what everybody expects, have a place that they can go where it feels safe. And that’s what The Alley has always been,” Thomas, aka “The Boss,” shared during an interview with the Sun-Times on a recent afternoon in his cluttered backroom office. The room is packed with archives of old T-shirt screen prints, Reader ads and other ephemera for an upcoming book project and deck of tarot cards that will be part of the store’s 50th anniversary celebrations this year. That includes a free block party on June 14, just outside the store’s current location at 2620 W. Fletcher St. that will offer music, local food vendors and a fashion show, aiming to bring together the close-knit community The Alley has long supported, if not also served, as a symbol of good faith that the store will, in fact, keep going.

In April, Thomas posted a video to Instagram that had many worried. In it, he shared, “I honestly don’t know how many more years I can go on and do this.” Now 71 and with advancing health problems, Thomas has been open about the fact that he’s been looking for a successor to take over The Alley and its associated properties. That also includes the adjoining Art Colony and The Music Factory with studios rented by 270 creator tenants, as well as recently launching a wedding and event space side hustle (Thomas even got his license to be a minister).

But the viral post, with a caption that asked followers to “support this transition,” triggered many diehard patrons who’ve spent the last few decades seeing hallowed gathering spots like Neo, Medusa’s, O’Banions and Exit slowly being taken away and fearing The Alley could be next. Or, even if it does stick around, not being the same kind of gathering spot for the alternative crowd.

“Please just figure out a way to stay. We don’t want to be stuck with Hot Topic chains,” joked guitarist Aidan Halm of the goth-metal band Bachelor’s Grove (named after the haunted Midlothian cemetery) that is headlining The Alley’s block party celebration. He and his bandmates are not only frequent shoppers but have also been benefactors of the store’s frequent integration with the music acts that embody the culture.

Over the years, The Alley has been a destination for people like Rob Zombie (who still dons one of the skeleton rib-cage leather jackets he bought at the store) and KISS’ Ace Frehley who “wore one of our shirts for 60% of his performances” before he passed, said Thomas. In the late ’90s, he recalled that The Alley also created a special line of Black Sabbath merch that the Osbournes loved. Nowadays, The Alley carries on that relationship with the music community via programs likeThe Alley FM, a Spotify playlist in which local bands can sign up to have their music added and played on the in-store soundtrack curated by staff.

“The Alley is such an important part of the community,” Bachelor’s Grove vocalist Abby Schultz added. “I don’t want us to lose that. I’m really hoping that whoever takes over keeps that feeling fresh and alive.”

That’s a big part of the challenge in finding the right successor, said Thomas, although he does note the search is progressing. “What I don’t want to do is end up with a Ben and Jerry’s where they see their legacy destroyed,” he admitted, citing the ice cream brand’s rows with parent company Unilever that forced at least one of the co-founders to resign. “That’s a big deal to me. I’d like to see the store go on.”

Thomas (who says he’s always been “kind of a hippie guy”) has been pouring his blood, sweat and tears into The Alley since he was barely out of high school and unexpectedly became an entrepreneur. As he was wrapping up studies at the Latin School of Chicago, he took $1,725 in savings bonds meant for his college education (at Harvard no less) and traded them in for a cashier’s check that he used to purchase the jewelry-making equipment that The Alley still uses today to make proprietary pieces.

“My parents got a divorce, and nobody paid my tuition. So, I took my savings bonds, I bought that equipment and I went to work,” he recalled. In the beginning, his biggest customer was his predecessor, a head shop also called The Alley at Woodfield Mall. Through a series of business deals, Thomas eventually took it over, expanded the merchandise and relocated to the city at Belmont Avenue and Clark Street in 1976 where business took off. At one point, he had 200 employees, several sister stores like Taboo Tabou and Architectural Revolution and a wholesale business. He was even almost poached by Hot Topic to help run its buying program — all because he found a community that was underserved and he believed in them.

Today, Thomas still visits the old sacred grounds in Lake View, though for a very different reason. “I go into my old building twice a week and do physical therapy,” he joked, laughing at the irony.

In 2016, he closed the flagship location with a public “funeral,” after finding “there was no more business there. The Amazon effect really wiped out most of the small stores on Belmont,” he lamented. With it was the loss of a steady stream of business from the punks and goths who once made the Lake View pocket their epicenter. As an homage, old photos of mohawked kids milling about at the adjacent Dunkin’ “Punkin’” Donuts parking lot hang on the walls of The Alley today.

Assistant store manager Trevor Windhurst does feel that the Avondale location carries on a similar vibe, even in this different era.

“The punk culture still comes through. I feel like it’s still very synergized to the way it was back in the old store where kids used to come down and hang out,” said Windhurst, 25, who notes students from nearby Lane Tech College Prep and families with multi-generations of devoted shoppers are frequent customers. Windhurst is originally from Detroit but, like many others who shop online or visit from as far away as the Philippines and Australia, he found out about the store through word-of-mouth spurred by very active TikTok and Instagram accounts that have a combined following of nearly 1 million.

Frequent shopper Missy Weglarz is an example of that core base. The former suburban Lansing resident who’s proudly “forever emo” was in the store looking at choker necklaces and T-shirts recently. She’s been shopping at The Alley for more than a dozen years, since she was 15, and still does despite living and working in D.C. as a flight attendant. 

“I have to come to The Alley at least once a year when I’m in town,” she said. “It’s a punk rock outlet that’s very unique and rare. I’ve obviously traveled a lot, and there’s no place that’s like The Alley. I hope they stay open forever.”

That’s the hope shared by staff, too. Some commenters on the aforementioned social media post have suggested a potential employee co-op, which Windhurst said sounds “interesting,” but also knows it would take a lot of work and may not be a feasible concept. Instead, he believes The Alley needs someone who can grow it into a national brand and fill an even bigger niche.

Thomas — who hopes he will be able to remain involved as an adviser and store personality — has thought about those opportunities down the road, too.

“If we can make this concept work and scale it, what’s to stop the next person from using that same format and doing something like anime stores?” he said. “There are so many other lifestyles that can be catered to. This is a repeatable business.”

Regardless if that ever happens, he said, “I just hope it continues because I love what we have done, and it’s been one hell of a run.”