Rant warning! The following content may not be suitable for hipsters or anybody who wants to be a modern bohemian.
Bohemian style, rescued from obscurity by Coachella going fashionable millennials and the pesky bike-riding hipsters of this world*, has been mainstream for a while now. Despite of, in principle, being a movement of unconventionality, today the bohemian decor is available to buy in any home store near you.
And frankly I think this is a bit of a pity.
“Lush exotic fabrics, perfectly disheveled pillows, and overgrown foliage – these are the trademarks of the cozy yet eclectic bohemian aesthetic.”
|Bohemian interiors from Buzzfeed|
Sure, you can take Ms. Wangs advice and hit the charity shops and the flea markets for your own piece of eclectic cool, or you could wait and see what life brings your way. The boho style has been hot enough for several years that all sorts of bohemian goods are available to be consumed, from the high end boho chic brands such as anthropologie to the offerings of the trusted opium for the masses-giant IKEA. Lets look at the example of Moroccan wedding blankets, the readers of popular design blogs will know exactly what I am talking about, the ultimate bedding accessory of 2015 – I would be lying if I said I did not like them. They are beautiful objects, trendy, expensive.. proper showcases, but there is just one problem: I already have a good blanket.
My blankie, as scruffy as they come, has multicoloured spots on a white background and I paid 3.99£ for it in Pound Stretcher right next to the Meadowbank Sainsbury’s in Edinburgh about seven years ago. It’s made or 100% polyester and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
|My “incidentally” bohemian bedroom.|
My relationship with decor has always been complicated: When I moved to my first flat back in 2006, still living in Finland, I had practically no furniture beyond my childhood bed. My mum stepped in, teamed up with a few relatives and collected everything a young person could need to set up their first home. I was almost sixteen and in my head a fully grown adult. Four years later I moved to Edinburgh to study painting and my sister, in turn just about to move into her first apartment, inherited all of my furniture and the nick-nacks I used as decoration.
Like most students, I moved several times whilst in uni, sometimes living on my own, sometimes sharing with friends or befriending the strangers I moved in with. Although I carried a suitcase full of things back from Finland to Scotland on each of my visits, I always purged away twice the amount when I moved house. By the time I moved in with my future husband I had two suitcases full of clothes and three IKEA bags of other stuff and this was roughly the sum of my worldly belongings.
Thankfully, he did have furniture of his own; very nice furniture, things that he had collected in good time, with pride and love. He is a maximalist with more clothes than I have, a brilliant taste regarding antique pieces and he shares my appetite for drifting. We have, successfully may I add, bought furniture together; done the IKEA relationship test, haggled in a depot vente (a sort of a flea market), and replaced some of our old things with new, some of which were expensive and some on a budget. Our decor is an eclectic mix of old and new, high and low-end – a bit… bohemian.
|Interior details from our little old house, with raw plaster walls and pealing wallpaper.|
I never thought of myself as a bohemian before. Never. Not even in the middle of my art studies with the evenings spent in pubs discussing painting and sex with other fashionably artistic millenials. Bohemians, for me, don’t shop at Lidl and they certainly don’t store their H&M undies in a MALM dresser and enjoy watching the Embarrassing Bodies or the Jeremy Kyle Show. To be honest, I think the culprit is this house – there is nothing more romantic than the idea of a creative couple living in a crumbling old house with charming period detail in the middle of the most picturesque France.
With a dog.
We did not set ourselves out to become cliches of bohemian living, it merely crept up on us and I guess this is how most interiors loved by the people who live in them are born. Just like all good gardens, with care and time. Once we get going with the plaster work in this house, paint the walls and patch a few not-so-discrete holes on our ceilings, our dwelling will start looking more conventional again. I like the rustic boho look we got going for the time being, but I would never pay a designer to recreate it. Just as one might walk to Anthropologie today and pick up a piece of exotic old world chic to crown their eclectic lives, I imagine it could never feel the same as haggling for it in the bazaars of North Africa.
|Avocados growing on an IKEA stepstool – is this what hipsters are made of?|
I feel immensely privileged to be able to live where I do and it works for us well. Part of our choice to live in the South of France is to do with the relatively cheap cost of living, especially the price of property. Like many, we would have not stood a change in owning our home in the UK where the system does not exactly favour the self employed, especially those working in arts. Just like the bohemian artists that flooded the quarters of the poor in Paris at the end of the 19th century – we are part of the cycle of gentrification that is more relevant today than never before.
This is why I am cynical about the boho-craze: nothing is ever as simple as it looks. Les Bohémiens of the golden age of Paris were mostly an ideal constructed by themselves; Henry Toulouse-Lautrec, the epitome of a poor bohemian artist, came from a wealthy aristocratic family who supported their son financially enabling him to pursue his artistic merits and live the jolly good la Vie de Bohéme. To appreciate the bohemian aesthetic is fine as is living the bohemian life, I am not trying to point the finger on anybody, but this style, like any trend, is also a gargantuan business venture. Boho-chic enterprises such as Coachella in the States, to use an obvious example, look like great fun, but let’s not forget the fact that the cost of tickets for the weekend is more than most people pay in rent each month.
The cozy, laid back bohemian feel of these types of events and products is often just an illusion. Using the undying words of Dolly Parton: “It takes a lot of money to look this cheap.”
|Raw plaster wall in our bedroom|
An quick search of bohemian interiors on Pinterest reveals a never ending stream of beautifully curated eclectic interiors from all around the world. On a lot of cases replicating a look like that would be a choice between a new decor or a new car. A few of us can afford to complete a process such as furnishing a home in one blast, but worry not – the process can be just as rewarding when you take, yes I am going to repeat the punch line one more time, time and care with your choices.
Want to live like a new bohemian? Hit the flee market, anthro or your local asda – and get only the things that you need. Focus on the stuff that reminds you of good times and good people or what you really, really love. With this set of guidelines you can’t go wrong. Trends, they come and go, so you might as well do you. This is what visiting other peoples delightfully eclectic, cozy and totally bohemian homes has thought me.
*Drops mike – rant over*
*Disclamer: You might meet me driving around on my vintage Motobecane bike, rocking a sundress-winter-scarf-combo. I grow avocados on my lounge, like craft beer and I have a degree in fine art.. So dear hipsters – don’t hate me, I’m one of you.