Post-Holiday Shopping: the Rolodisc, Feel-Good Gadget of the Year; Pretty T-Shirts Cost a Pretty Penny (for Charity) at Halcyon; Domsey's Warehouse Is Cheap-Ass Paradise; Personal Stock Tips

...The smartest and most subtly rewarding product you can buy this year is the Rolodisc motorized 75-disc CD tower. This gadget uses a vertical conveyor belt to let you scan through all of your albums before gingerly picking out one to play. Manufactured by a Florida firm named Excalibur, the Rolodisc nestles each CD carefully in its own conveyor-belt slot (perpendicular to the belt, so you can see all the album covers) and moves quickly, cycling through 75 CDs in 12 seconds. The tower is controlled by two large buttons at the base that are big-toe operable. Other options for selecting CDs simply don't compare: you know it's (1) rifling through a stack of unboxed discs that are already hopelessly scratched, (2) trying to figure out what exactly is in a $700 300-CD stereo or (3) flipping through a fake leather book so thick that you couldn't carry it onto an airplane.

The Rolodisc, however, provides something more than convenience. It provides peace of mind and pride. Because they're arranged back to back, instantly accessible, you will be amazed by the power and unheralded genius of your 75-CD collection. (Have more albums? Then get more Rolodiscs, they chain together.) You will find yourself compulsively whirring through your music library before leaving the house, not to play anything, just to survey your kingdom. Or maybe that's just me.

In any case, this thing proves that it is very dangerous for men to own anything that they can operate with their feet. It's distracting enough picking up towels and old underwear. The Rolodisc lists for $120 at www.ExcaliburElectronics.com; it is curiously absent from Amazon but available, of course, on Ebay.

...If you want to throw your money into swanky personal fashion, this week's T-Fense Benefit at Halcyon is the best bet. Halcyon is a lounge/coffee shop in Carroll Gardens that manages to stay cool month after month despite the fact that it admits dogs (real ones) and is in Brooklyn. It has even found itself profiled in oversized glossies such as Flyer, which I thought you had to give blood to get into.

The T-Fense Benefit is a Halcyon response to 9/11; the lounge has partnered with Mooks Clothing USA to bring out 16 limited-edition t-shirts designed by popular young graphic artists. These shirts are "Halycon-inspired," meaning they lean heavily on DJ culture?they probably would anyway, since DJ culture pays the bills of young graphic artists. They feature children, LPs and dancing folk in a healthy array of styles; the best shirt is done by Pericles Papayannis of enyce, whose circular design looks like an Islamic bull's-eye and seems destined for a Pearl Jam CD.

T-Fense was supposed to terminate Jan. 7, but it has been extended through this Sunday, Jan. 13. (It isn't nice, or necessary, to speculate on why a merchandising event would be extended.) The good news is that proceeds from the t-shirt sales go to the Robin Hood Relief fund, which aims to help lower-income victims of the World Trade Center attacks. The bad news is that the shirts are $50?a deal-breaker for many people.

Still, it doesn't cost anything to check out the designs at www.halcyonline.com/tfense.html. If you do decide to order, go to the place instead of sending in an e-mail; Halycon will have extra numbers of college-age singles who broke up with their long-distance boyfriends/girlfriends over the holidays and there's no reason not to see how they look. At Halcyon (227 Smith St., betw. Butler & Douglass Sts., Carroll Gardens, 718-260-9299).

...If you're more interested in spending, say, $2.75 for a shirt, feast yourself on the parallel universe that is Domsey's Warehouse (496 Wythe Ave., betw. B'way & S. 8th St., Williamsburg, 718-384-6000). Although well-publicized on the Internet, where it won Citysearch New York's audience award for "Best Vintage Clothing" 2001, Domsey's remains an open secret for many New Yorkers who ask about it and then pretend to know where it is because they hear "Williamsburg."

Here's the scoop. Domsey's is a giant, cold (as in no-heating-system-at-all, cinder-blocks-for-insulation cold) building right on the East River across the Williamsburg Bridge. It houses six floors of used garments ranging from car wash jumpsuits to bridal gowns, from children's Halloween costumes to D.A.R.E. t-shirts. The amazing thing about Domsey's is that the cooler its wares look, the cheaper they tend to be. This inverse relationship will net you an entire summer's worth of clothes for $40.

There are problems, of course. Domsey's doesn't have great pants, unless you are into brightly colored corduroys or Eastern-patterned fare, in which case it's heaven. Their khakis look spat-up upon and they come in a limited range of sizes. It is also a trek to the store from the subway station at Marcy Ave. (on the J/M/Z line), a trek through streets lined with discarded refrigerators, feces that probably didn't come from dogs and Hasidic mothers monopolizing the sidewalks with their strollers. Domsey's has few men's shoes; the last time I went there, I bought a pair that was one size too small and found myself walking around like Keyser Soze without the ingenious criminal mind. There are hardly any mirrors to boot. The Domsey's employees don't want you to know what you are stuck with until you leave.

Yet, unlike the Salvation Army, Domsey's hires visible employees. They keep the racks organized and the store spotless, not that much dirt could hide on the bare stone floors. Every item is tagged with its price and size. If you have a problem, someone will help you; the cashiers are friendly and accommodating.

Bottom line: Domsey's is so cheap, after an hour you'll be saying things like "screw this shirt, it's $5" when in Manhattan you'd be saying that with a zero added. Petite women can go wild with the children's clothing on the fourth floor, where some items make you wonder what sort of prom six-year-olds are preparing for these days.

...Further advice: buy all of your groceries at Key Food. Buy all of your CDs on Ebay, where a user named onecentcds@aol.com starts the bidding at $0.01 every time. If you want to buy an album without shipping costs, head to Discorama (186 W. 4th St., betw. Barrow & Jones Sts., 206-8417). Purchase non-secondhand pants at Canal Jeans (504 B'way, betw. Spring & Broome Sts., 226-1130). Don't waste your money on the appallingly bad, bewilderingly popular play Urinetown.

And finally, in 2002, purchase as many shares as you can of these companies: JP Morgan (JPM), Philip Morris (MO), Exxon (XOM) and SBC Communications (SBC). That'll help me out, and I need the help, since in the past two years I have twice bought stocks so bad that I got involved in class action lawsuits vs. the companies. This year will be different. Seriously.