Swear off those annoying little frame shops where elderly ladies suggest a powder-blue mat and a nice floral frame. Forget the poster shops that know only Plexiglas, clamped painfully with metal clips and strung with bungee cord. Forget do-it-yourself, where they ask you every time just how much you remember, and vanish two seconds before you twirl the nail into the pad of your index finger or bang the glass slowly into smithereens. Resign yourself to paying more and go to Artmart. You won't have to wander around stacking up L-shaped pieces of cardboard as though you know what you're looking for. Nobody will triple-mat suede, silk and crushed velvet with the white beveled edge showing in between like a recalcitrant lace slip. Artmart's framers aren't coloring-book literal; they're not creative at the expense of taste. They won't faint at the sight of an erotic lithograph or crinkle their brow at an abstract watercolor, trying to make out a picture. They frame, artfully.