The influence tree here is fascinating. You can trace lines back to Victorian mourning aesthetics—that same dramatic interplay of light and shadow, the ornamental typography, the ritualistic presentation of imagery. There's clearly some Twin Peaks-era David Lynch energy in how she frames domestic spaces with just enough unease to make them compelling. The architectural elements—those haunted townhouses with their glowing windows—channel Edward Gorey's theatrical macabre, but warmed up with candlelight and autumn palettes instead of stark pen and ink.

The color theory is doing serious work here. Sabot largely works in a palette of deep teals, charcoal grays, vintage creams, and rust-orange accents that feel both autumnal and timeless. It's the color scheme of old letters and older magic, but it never feels costumey. The florals—particularly those dusky pink carnations—add a softness that keeps the gothic elements from tipping into parody. They're a reminder that this aesthetic is about romance and mystery, not just spookiness.

Typography-wise, she's playing a sophisticated game. The decorative script fonts (that "Molly Grimm" signature, the "Autumn" quote treatment) are pure elegance, but they're balanced against clean, modern sans-serifs that keep everything readable and contemporary. It's like she's writing love letters using a fountain pen but mailing them via email—respecting tradition while living firmly in the present.

The compositional approach across these pieces shows a real understanding of editorial design principles. The layouts have that premium magazine quality—lots of white space, strategic image placement, text that breathes. The mock-ups (that phone on the ornate book, the website shown on desktop with the vase of flowers) are styled photography at its finest, creating aspiration without pretension. She's not showing you a website; she's showing you a world that happens to include a website.

What's particularly clever is how Sabot's work bridges multiple online ecosystems. The vertical phone designs work for Stories and TikTok. The horizontal desktop mock-ups translate to YouTube thumbnails and blog headers. The square compositions with centered text hit perfectly for Instagram feeds. She's designed a cohesive visual system that actually works across platforms, which is rarer than it should be.

The vibe throughout is intimate, mysterious, intellectual, and warmly inviting. It's giving "you've been invited to a secret society that discusses ghost stories over tea" energy. There's a narrative quality to everything—these designs don't just announce information, they hint at deeper stories. That "Whispers From The Other Side" book treatment could be a real novel you'd find in an independent bookshop, complete with reader testimonials on weathered paper.

Sabot has also nailed something that eludes many designers working in nostalgic aesthetics: she's made the past feel like a choice, not a constraint. Her work doesn't scream "I wish it was 1890" so much as it whispers "wouldn't it be interesting if we brought this forward?" The podcast pages for "Lanterns & Lore" are a perfect example—completely functional modern podcast interfaces dressed in Victorian evening wear.

This is design for storytellers, by someone who clearly understands storytelling. Every element serves the narrative: the misty figures suggest mystery, the handwritten script implies personal connection, the architectural details promise depth and history. It's cohesive without being repetitive, thematic without being heavy-handed.