kula is taking over the world but you still don’t know how to pronounce it. It started as an event, morphed into a print/on-line magazine, and has now become a shop/café/drop-in-centre/multiple personality disorder at College and Bathurst; imperialism is not dead, it’s just surreptitious.

Okay, because I know it is driving you insane: Ready? Ukula: You-coola. Think Gary Oldman saying ‘Dracula’. Trust me.

Started by two tune spinning, Scottish, expatriates, the print incarnation, a free glossy quarterly, has seen its circulation rise to 10 000 after only 6 issues. For co-founders Graeme Maclean and Kevin Renton, the store was a natural step forward: a place for readers, friends and artists to hang out, drink coffee, hold discussions (i.e. ‘have you read the latest Ukula?’) and, hopefully, buy something.

Possibly the most versatile space in the city, Ukula is not simply a boutique. A coffee bar dominates the main floor space, separating the airy clothing section in the front, and the living room, complete with chandelier, comfy chairs, books and magazines, in the back. A massive dry-erase board displays the café menu as well as notes on bands, records and other happenings. With track lighting and black curtains waiting patiently in the corner, the store can Optimus Prime into a cosy concert venue. Downstairs, below the boutique, will eventually act as the home base for all things Ukula. Offices line an open room that runs the length of the basement. It will house events such as art installations and DJ nights. Did I say versatile?

Not worried about over-reaching, Maclean sites the interconnectedness of Ukula endeavours: ‘a lot of the people that are into music are also into books, and art, and photography.’ The magazine incestuously acts as a conduit for the store, and vice versa, fostering a unique idea of a shared-interests community.