'raffishly' is a correct and usable word in written English
You can use it to describe a person, event or thing that appears disheveled, unconventional or slightly disorderly in an alluring or charming way. For example, "The way he wore his hat rakishly to the side made him look quite debonair".
He might even have put the bra on and lain about raffishly.
Take the delicate, sugarplum-fairy re-imagining of "Bingo Bango": based around waltz-time harpsichord and raffishly muted trumpet, it becomes as unashamedly widescreen as a Spielberg film score by John Williams, speeding up as it goes along like a Greek or Cossack dance – just one benefit of its being freed from sequencer rhythms.
Instead, he seems in unaccountably rude health, raffishly handsome, gloriously overdressed in a morning suit and polka dot scarf, and lewd on request.
Carnegie's programmers have perpetrated many lively schemes in recent years, but nothing so raffishly radical as this.
He has thick black hair, which had been slicked down with water, but some of the front strands fell raffishly over his forehead.
Tom Stoppard adapted J. G. Ballard's semiautobiographical novel about a spoiled British boy, Jim Christian Balee), living in Shanghai at the start of the Second World War, who gets separated from his parents, is transferred to a Japanese-run internment camp, and falls in with a raffishly cynical American (John Malkovich).
For a while after she moved in, he pottered around with a smile on his grizzled face, raffishly touching the brim of his baseball cap to us neighbors and whistling as he swept the leaves off his front steps.
With the cigarette dangling raffishly from the side of his mouth, he was a snapshot of casual, at least until he spotted a police car in his rearview mirror.
I swear I've been hearing about the raffishly un-Californian charms of the Silver Lake neighborhood in Los Angeles for 20 years.
With raffishly tousled hair and boyish good looks, Mr. Mailer sniggers and leaps around in a strenuous effort to appear creepy but misses the mark even when he's literally creeping down the wall, in one of the production's more elaborate effects.
(I sat beside him years and years ago at a Private Eye lunch at the magazine's regular spot, the Coach and Horses in Soho, not far from its Greek Street offices. He was funny and raffishly rude, and had the thinnest, whitest skin I've ever seen on a man — like a condom filled with skim milk).
