Okay, so. Here’s the thing. Understanding your own bias is hard. All we know for sure is that, whatever it is, we probably don’t know what it is. Some kind of you can’t see it ’til you see it — it being your blindspot, standing cold and naked, exactly where everyone else can see it—sits comfortably on your shoulder as you move from design decision to design decision. So you try like hell to be thoughtful—or at least, obnoxiously thorough—and prepare yourself for an awakening all the same.
It makes being in the position of choosing how we represent people kinda intimidating.
Like, real talk, so intimidating that our first illustration style did not include people at all. Telling a story through objects sitting right there, being all Haaay. what if you just.. didn’t? and we were like oh yes. It’s just safer. And easier. There’s no lizard brain telling you that something is off about the elbow that is making it just kind of making it creepy. And no one notices if you re-used the same flower pot in every illustration (and, like, if you did: that’s on you for being weirdly observant, not on me for being efficient AF). There is no emotion linked to my drawing of a mailbox. There is no implied preference because I drew more dogs than cats. Safe. Straight forward. Matter-of-fact communication.