I’ve always fallen for the bohemian way, growing up in Spain, it was sort of ingrained in me from an early age. And in recent years, I weave in and out – always to return to my personal bohemian inspirations at some point for a little while or a long while, but always here or there. I do grow tired of all these trite names the fashion industry use to coin a bohemian approach to dressing, they are endless.. boho chic, festival ready, gypsy inspired, 70s revival – or at worst, anything coachella related. That patch of desert had nothing to do with defining bohemian. And while I could go into the roots of the original bohemians, I won’t – because that might bore you. As you know, I’m fascinated with fashion from the past. I don’t care for many of the styles of today and trends, well I find them dreadfully boring. Quite simply, I follow my heart and wear what I like – and this determination to do what I please is mirrored in so many aspects of my life; lack of a real job, refusal to live in just one place, dedication to writing a book that so far no one wants to publish. I do what I very well please, always. And so, my personal fascination with bohemia is an aspirational one, because at the essence of it all is a stubborn free spirit. And that’s all I want to be. How beautiful to wander, but purposefully…how wonderful to be rooted but flow all at once, how inspirational to desert conformist pressures for a path that’s all your own. One day, I want to be sitting on a seaside bench, as an old lady, with my glasses slipping down my nose & kimono pulled tight and tell someone, anyone… how I did that just that with my life. I forgot the world and made my own.