There is something absolutely captivating about the style that unites an expression of untrammeled creativity with an acknowledgment of the roots laid down by past generations. And so, it was in the modern incarnation of “boho chic”—not something I’ve ever knowingly paid much attention to—that I found the inspiration for my recent piece in Notting Hill, where the shops are vintage and the cafés quirky enough to transform a simple amble into an impromptu catwalk of insane color, texture, and attitude. And then I had a thought: What if you took “boho chic,” stripped it of its Friedan-era (née post-WWII) associations, and used it as a launching pad for a more contemporary style?
My journey exploring this new interpretation of boho chic did not begin in a curated showroom or on a designer runway. Just last month at the British Fashion Awards, while the industry was abuzz over the latest trends from established names (think Burberry) and emerging talents alike, I noticed something surprising. Among the more structured looks that evening, there seemed to be a subtle nod to the relaxed, bohemian elements that we usually associate with appearances made at music festivals.
Fashion, at its best, is about personal expression. Yet somehow, it has come to be governed by an increasingly narrow set of “daytime” and “evening” looks. After the awards, I was wandering the busy streets when I stumbled upon a vintage market nestled behind a line of independent shops.
I had to take a peek. Who wouldn’t? The pop-up was too good to miss.
So in I went, and was rewarded with racks upon racks of the most carefully lived-in and curated pieces I’d ever seen. Among them, I felt my way into a story: each item possessed enough character to give itself to me. A pair of mustard-yellow flares beckoned as if they were meant to envelop my legs.
A deliciously puffed bomber jacket would have hugged my frame just right. And a series of delicate, embroidered crop tops surely would have added a pop to any ensemble I could have conjured up. As I have spent time with the modern boho way of life, I have observed that what is now called “the modern boho aesthetic” is not just about looking effortlessly chic.
It is also about something much deeper, much more soulful. It’s about curation, yes, but more importantly, it is about individualistic expression with a decidedly inclusive, multicultural, and interdisciplinary flavor—one that is perfectly suited for a generation (my generation, to be precise) that has grown up in a globalized world. When I attended a private showing at the Saatchi gallery a few months back, I found myself in conversation with a group of young creatives (a conversation, I might add, that I orbited around with great delight for quite some time).
The profound shift in how we connect with fashion can be traced directly to the digital age, and social media platforms like Instagram and Pinterest have become the virtual showplaces of our fashion-loving society. Influencers and everyday style laureates serve up our new vision of boho chic. And I, for one, can’t help but love the modern tailoring that we see with flowing maxi dresses, the vibrant colors of artisanal jewelry, and the funky shades of handcrafted leather that seem to almost form an essential part of the fashion lexicon today.
The pavilion of the Fashion Weeks may well stand in judgment with sharp, editorialized visuals. But the stars of Instagram seem to tell a much more human story with the appearances that make up these first-world problems called “looks.”
In my own wardrobe, I’ve adopted this transformation wholeheartedly, layering, for instance, tailored vests over the kinds of boho tops I’ve always loved. And speaking of those kinds of tops, I recently updated my collection of them with a pretty, billowy blouse from H&M.
It has smocking at the shoulder seams and embroidery, so the whole thing looks really contemporary and not at all circa-2007, which is amazing since it is relatively affordable. Unbelievably, I haven’t worn it yet because I haven’t been anywhere more interesting than my living room, which I should probably use for a photoshoot at this point. What truly excites me about the resurgence of boho chic goes beyond the individual outfit.
It is, in fact, a reasoned and rescued philosophy. In a world that sometimes feels nothing but a blur, there again seems to be a wholesome pleasure in taking the time to hunt for a piece that tells a tale, a piece that’s passed through so many hands you’re bound to wonder about the intimacies woven into its very fabric. The story itself is what seems to be resonating at the moment, especially among those adhering to a 21st-century version of the not-so-secret “sustainable” code of the fashion underground.
Resale shops, vintage pop-ups, and the good old thrift store—from what I can gather, dressing in them is one way to make a sustainable statement. This influence has reawakened in me a curiosity to seek out and understand the local boutiques and independent designers who are redefining contemporary bohemianism. In Cardiff, my hometown, I’ve recently discovered an entrepreneurial scene of young, creative individuals who are redefining the local fashion landscape with a renewed sense of identity.
Though closely linked with my place of origin, the work of these emerging fashion figures speaks to a broader moment. By addressing the specificities of their own locales and harnessing the distinctive power of traditional craft and “slow” design, they’re increasingly pushing back against the fast fashion industry. That, in turn, has planted the seeds for a local fashion scene that feels both innovative and respectful of its past.
The emerging fashions of global culture are fluidly influencing this trend. A recent collaboration between a storied Parisian atelier and a celebrated London streetwear brand highlighted the cross-border nature of style. The collection that resulted from this collaboration—featuring traditional prints and modern cuts—captured the boho essence that the erstwhile fashion police of the runway have deemed suitable.
The moment of the debut, staged by the Gascogne River at a star-studded event just off the Parvis du Trocadéro with the Eiffel Tower as backdrop, made for a refreshing picture of how the seamless coexistence of rise and retrench—old and new—can be both enriching and inspiring. I have come to view contemporary boho chic as something far greater than just a surface-level aesthetic. To me, it is now a styling approach that embraces the true diversity of history and the art of clothing narrative.
As with each of my past outfits, I consider every piece in this ensemble—a mix of thrifted and new, of 50 year-old and modern fabrics—to tell a part of my story. I see each as having the potential not only to serve me but also to act as an engine of outfit transformation in the most storytelling-suitcan way possible. And you know what?
Ain’t that what styling is all about? At its core, boho chic is a fashion expression, a careful curation of appearance. Because although what we’re wearing may not be very different from what our parents wore (or what the people in their parts of the world wore), something about the individual looks we’re putting together seems to have stoked the fires of the fashion industry.
And when the fires of the fashion industry are stoked, people (partly through the fires’ smoke and mirrors) start paying attention to what’s being worn and to whom, which in turn makes us consider how, when, and why we might want to wear something similar—in other words, to ponder the whole outfit.
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