TURLOCK, Calif. — The downtown area in this Central Valley city is a little slow these days. More than 20 percent of the retail space is empty. Earlier this month, the big news was a skunk plopping down outside an antique store, shutting it down for several hours until a government expert could tranquilize the critter and haul it away.

But in a couple of years, downtown could be a bigger draw. As the business community sees it, brides-to-be from 100 miles around will converge on Turlock’s vintage, tree-lined Main Street, seeking the perfect wedding dress, the perfect wedding ring, the perfect travel agent for the perfect honeymoon.

To the strains of piped-in classical music, they’ll flit from boutique to bakery, leaving behind piles of cash in the city’s once-sleepy heart. They’ll dine in frou-frou restaurants and, maybe one day, they’ll even get married in the specialty hotel that’s sure to sprout up.

Although the economic health of Turlock has hinged largely on almonds, cows and turkeys, there’s been something else in the air lately. Call it love.

Intentions

Eager to find a distinctive identity for this agricultural city of 69,000, a business group aims to turn downtown into California’s biggest bridal destination.

Mayor John Lazar, a lifelong Turlocker, as residents call themselves, has been enthusiastic.

“What could be better than encouraging marriage and family values, and planning around that theme?” he said.

If things go as planned, and the City Council gives its approval, the six-block stretch of Turlock’s Main Street will be one of just a handful of neighborhoods in the United States devoted to premarital peddling. The best-known is in Reading, Ohio, a town outside Cincinnati whose “Bridal District” has 38 stores and sponsors promotions, including a footrace called the Runaway Bride 5K.

“It’s critical to our quality of life,” said Linda Fitzgerald, Reading’s economic-development director. “It brings a stature and recognition to Reading that you can’t put a dollar value on.” Fitzgerald said groups from a half-dozen cities had called with questions about setting up their own bridal districts.

In Turlock, the Ohio model was taken to heart by Roger Brooks, a consultant hired by the Turlock Downtown Property Owners Association.

“It’ll put them on the map,” said Brooks, whose Seattle-based Destination Development has advised several hundred communities on perking up their sagging images. “Right now, they don’t have anything that distinguishes them from a lot of other towns.”

Turlock, which is 12 miles south of Modesto, is home to California State University, Stanislaus. The Hilmar Cheese Co., which describes itself as the world’s biggest cheese factory, is just beyond its borders. Mega-malls and big-box stores anchor new subdivisions at the edge of town.

Downtown

Lined with century-old, two-story brick buildings, Turlock’s Main Street has been renovated with wide sidewalks, planters, old-fashioned lampposts — trappings of a day-trip destination. The businesses are eclectic: Cindy’s Doo-Dads here, Vegas Furniture there, a tea room, a trendy restaurant, a hot dog stand. At one end is a boarded-up bank and at the other an empty storefront with a sign advertising a card room set to open in 2011.

“They dressed it up with a beautiful stage,” Brooks said, “but there are no actors.”

Brooks’ company’s marketing surveys showed an opportunity: “Within a 100-mile radius, we found a young population with a heavily Hispanic bent to it,” he said. “There are a tremendous number of weddings — and people in the region spend an average of $25,000 on them.”

Scattered through Turlock are about 50 wedding-related businesses — disc jockeys, photographers, caterers and florists in addition to jewelry stores and dress shops. Bringing some of them downtown and recruiting others seems like an obvious step to Jim Kimball, president of the downtown business group.

“We’re not Carmel-by-the-Sea, and we’re not the Napa Valley,” said Kimball, a real-estate agent who owns a building downtown. “We don’t have a redwood forest. What we do have is a strong dairy and poultry community, but that’s not what would make people want to take a trip here.”

One-stop shopping for brides — who would otherwise traipse as far as the San Francisco Bay Area — might be a draw if it’s aggressively marketed, said Richard Markel, director of the Sacramento-based Association for Wedding Professionals International. “On average, a girl will go to five or six gown stores and drive several hundred miles if necessary,” he said. “If they’re all clustered in a few blocks, so much the better.”

Markel said the wedding industry, while expensive to break into, is more “recession-resistant” than most. “Some girls are being a little more frugal this year,” he said, “but these things will go on forever.”

Concerns

At the heart of a conservative farming region, Turlock isn’t banking on gay weddings as a big source of revenue.

Turlockers point to a few factors that encourage them. They believe that high gas prices will discourage multiple, far-flung shopping trips. By grouping dozens of stores together in a quaint downtown, they believe brides and their entourages will be drawn not just for shopping but for a fun day trip — with the bonus of avoiding big-city hassles.

Although wary at first, Heidi McNally-Dial, Turlock’s economic-development manager, says she now can picture brides and their bridesmaids spending the day “looking at shoes, getting their nails done, having lunch, buying dresses….”

“Nobody else in California, Nevada, Oregon or Washington is billing themselves as the place,” she said. “I really think there’s a lot of potential here.”

On Turlock’s Main Street, some skeptics remain. However, planners have calmed initial fears that non-wedding businesses would be kicked out. Some, such a Jose Bedolla at Main St. Tattoo and Body Piercing, even see a plus in the idea. “We’ll fit right in,” said Bedolla, wearing a T-shirt that reads “Everything we do here hurts.”

He said engaged couples had been coming in for ring tattoos — ersatz wedding bands with the names of their beloved in fancy script. “We try to talk them out of it,” he said.