The Bohemian
After a period of inconspicuousness, rationality, and minimalism, fashion is once again opening up to a freer spirit. Where does this come from, and what is different this time?
A feather-adorned hat and fringed handbag at Valentino, new layers of suede at Isabel Marant, a flood of lace and fur vests at Zimmermann, and of course Chloé, where Chemena Kamali is not shy about rummaging through the archives and serving up ruffled dresses made of chiffon, leather, and lace in immodest doses. Two decades earlier, there were the Olsens – one step ahead, not for everyone. Dressed in relaxed silhouettes with a touch of Marrakesh and flea market, with Birkin bags, large glasses, flip-flops, and vintage Cartier jewelry to match. At other times, at galas, they looked like they had stepped out of a witch's library.

It was as if they wanted to defy all the rules of how luxury should be worn. Kate Moss was nonchalant but more raw. Flowing dresses, chiffon, fringes, sequins, lace and leopard print, her own talismans. A little party, a little luxury, chaos, spirituality and glamour, or a dose of hangover. There was an elusiveness to it.
I loved it.

UNBOUND
The word bohemian originally referred to Roma people, who were believed in France to have originated in Bohemia. Gradually, it came to be used to describe anyone who lived outside social conventions—artists, thinkers, eccentrics. Their style was not dictated by luxury, but by inner freedom. They put together their wardrobes from second-hand clothes, wore layers, embroidery, colorful scarves, and elements of folk art—fashion became a way of expressing attitude, not status.

The bohemian roots as we know them today are mainly rooted in the 1960s – a time when Twiggy, Talitha Getty, Barbra Streisand, and Marianne Faithfull shopped at the legendary Biba, founded by Barbara Hulanicki. One of London's most iconic clothing stores was something of a cult – a reference to earlier trendsetters, including the decadent Bloomsbury Group of the 1920s and the romantics of the Victorian era, echoing the past and eccentric romanticism. This group around Virginia Woolf and Vanessa Bell lived in artistic and personal freedom, outside gender norms and conventions. Their clothing was poetic, relaxed, ethnic. It wasn't about style, but about a way of life – the essence of boho even today. A parallel representative was the American dancer Isadora Duncan. She shared their ethos of rejecting tradition, connecting body and spirit, emphasizing intuition, individuality, and a return to natural rhythms.

The 1960s were truly a revolutionary time in fashion; a new generation was looking for a way to see the world. Feminists, artists, and designers found alternatives for how to dress for this world. Gaby Aghion founded Chloé in 1952 because she "loved the idea of couture but found the concept a little outdated." In 1964, she hired the young Karl Lagerfeld. The bohemianism that he and other designers, such as Yves Saint-Laurent, promoted ultimately revolved around an idea of femininity that rejected the formality of the old world order.

This wave came in much the same way as the bohemianism of the early 21st century—as a reaction to the austere minimalism that had captivated the fashion world at the time thanks to brands such as Jil Sander, Prada, and Helmut Lang. The same parallel can be found today. "People want to be themselves, live the way they live—define their lives for themselves. Perhaps it's not too surprising that after several seasons of quiet luxury firmly gripping fashion and the suffocating pressure of the outside world, clients are longing for the sense of freedom embodied by boho chic: the movement of flowing silhouettes, the dreamy quality of delicate fabrics," says April Hennig, president of the Moda Operandi platform.

LOST IN TRANSLATION
This trend isn't based purely on novelty; it's about nostalgia and familiarity. That sells, too. Enough time has passed for brands to play with this aesthetic again. This time, bohemianism has a more mature and refined feel, with a desire for nostalgia, but it is also undeniably more luxury-oriented. The question is whether the originally subversive ideals can reconnect with their spirit in this form.
Brands have no choice but to take the more luxurious route. Over the years, the boho chic label has become a somewhat empty concept, profaned by the rapid rise of fast fashion chains where you could buy a macramé vest and feather earrings for a summer festival and then throw them away with a clear conscience. Boho style has become too commercial, and the fashion industry has grown tired of the look. Even the aforementioned style ambassadors are distancing themselves from the definition of boho. "Don't you think 'boho chic' sounds annoying?" Sienna Miller asked in an interview with The Guardian. "I don't think it's a comeback of boho chic. The term has become quite stale and reductive in the wake of marketing, social media, and fast fashion," says Chemena Kamali in an interview.

If this trend is ripe for a comeback, it needs to be adapted to today's world. Contemporary designers have moved it forward by infusing it with a confident attitude and feminist ideals, which no longer need to be spelled out on T-shirts. It feels fresh and empowering. This feeling is all the better expressed as a design by women for women, where sexuality comes from within, rather than being primarily intended for the male gaze. When else to dress up in this message, or better yet, when else to live it than this summer?

October 16, 2025