A New Look for Mabel
Why I Bother (And Why I’ll Keep Bothering): The Curious Case of Mabel Shirley’s New Look
No one’s really visiting the blog, let’s be honest. Most days, I’m probably talking to myself. But that’s all right. Because something odd has happened — and it’s worth saying out loud, even if the echo is all that answers back.
I’ve been working hard — with quiet determination and a few late-night mutterings — to craft a visual style for Mabel Shirley. A style that doesn’t just look good, but feels right. Not ‘right’ in the commercial sense. Not right because it follows trends. Right because it suits her. The era. The tone. The quiet grit of a character born in the shadows between wars and whispers.
And here’s the unexpected part: The old-fashioned, desaturated, even slightly scuffed black-and-white illustrations — the ones that look like they fell out of a dusty book or an attic drawer — are getting more attention than all the vibrant, spectacular AI marvels I spent ages polishing.
It’s not just a personal hunch either. Analytics back it up: clicks, saves, longer dwell time. People are lingering on these quieter images.
Why? I think it’s this: we’ve all had our fill of the fantastic. Scroll after scroll of perfect, polished, algorithmic brilliance has dulled our senses. AI fatigue, they’re calling it. And it’s real.
So maybe the new magic is actually… the old magic. The imperfect. The real-ish. The sketch that leaves something to the imagination. The illustration that hums with a gentler truth.
That’s why I’ve turned to a style inspired by E. H. Shepard for Mabel’s world. It’s not an affectation. It’s a fit. His line work has a quiet resolve. A nostalgia that doesn’t pander. It feels like something Mabel might carry in her notebook. Or like a scene from one of her childhood stories, before the ghosts started showing up at the door.
We’re building a look here — not for clicks or trends, but for resonance. For something that sticks. Something that lingers in the mind after the screen goes dark.
And so yes, even if it’s just me here — pressing ‘publish’ into the void — I’ll keep bothering. Because in that quiet rebellion against the expected, I think Mabel has found her visual voice. And oddly enough, it’s whispering louder than ever.
In Appreciation:
The illustrations above are of my own creation, made in a style inspired by E. H. Shepard — whose work has long captured my imagination. This is not a reproduction, but a tribute in spirit. If there’s a gentler way to bring Mabel’s world to life, I’ve yet to find it.
Rich, I have been gathering ideas for an article based on a theory that circulates in the “sleight-of-hand” or magic as an entertaining art. It is called the “too perfect” theory. If the effect you perform is “too perfect”, gimmicked apparatus will be suspected as the means by which you accomplished it.
You have given me another example from which to draw. Thanks. (Beautiful drawings, by the way.)
Thank you, Steven. No, they aren’t my drawings—just images created using an AI generator from a prompt I wrote. I realise it’s a bit contradictory, especially after what I expressed in the article. But honestly, I just don’t have the hours anymore to create the artwork myself; the writing takes up so much time. I’ve adapted, though, and now use different tools to express my artistic imagination.
I’d love to read your article—and I’d be happy to share it on this platform, if you’d like.
All the very best to you, my old friend.