Being a bohemian, individual, quirky kook is not a lifestyle choice or the result of an image decision. It is more of an image indecision.
What those words mean is synonymous to 'interesting'. You know, said in that heavy way, reverberating with connotation and issuing from a contorted false smile. Trying not to be offensive, yet insinuating distaste all the same. It is something to say when there is really nothing to say. Except, what in the name of fashionista are you wearing, you blind clotheshorse?
To be a bohemian, individual, quirky kook requires an absolute ignorance of all fashion trends currently rife on every spring chicken with access to a Primark, or alternatively wearing all of them at once, rendering each unidentifiable and the antithesis of 'hip'. Never knowing what to wear is also very important, with last minute mishmashes providing statement looks. Planning an outfit gives a polished and refined look. Piling everything on in a state of hurried panic, layers skewiff and mismatched accessories, gives that coveted kook image. Which is why it is the look of choice pour moi. Due to the sheer nature of it not being a look. Merely a 'whatever-is-to-hand' coverage device. So when I answer the door in stripy pyjama bottoms, vintage ACDC ripped t-shirt, straggly scarf, various chains and dangly earrings, haphazardly hairclipped hair, and thick woolen toasties, remember that it is the result of careful preconception and hours of perfecting.
In fact, for my next night out I'm aiming to channel 'colourblind baglady chic'. A look I just know I can pull off.