I just can't tell you how inspiring I find this photo on the left. The way the clothing, the pose, the overall unkempt-ness of the whole thing scream "homeless crack addict!" but the fresh-scrubbed face and shiny hair say, "Surprise! I'm some middle-to-upper class Icelandic hipster girl doing that whole "ratty" thing? Aren't these clothes ugly/great?"
Ohmygod, that filthy bathmat of a jacket, those baggy tapered leopard print pants and that grandma cardigan from 1991, all in various shades of puke, are the exact clothes you see on actual hobos. It's so eternally frustrating that if an actual hobo wears this outfit, the "face hunter" would just walk on by, but but since she is young and rich and "pretty" than suddenly it's supposed to be deeply, ironically stylish. You look like crap, Icelandic girl! Put on a pencil skirt and tuck in your shirt and stop trying to be self-consciously ugly.
This reminds me of this one time I asked Dan and Gerard (I can just reference people I know, right? No one but my friends read this blog, right?) to discuss how this one guy dressed and they were both like "Hobo chic!" and then they were both like, "But not 'chic,'" and I was like, "So, hobo?"