Selby’s Hand-Drawn Universe

Illustrator Selby has chalked Amsterdam pavements, filled Sydney glossies and shared wall space with Turner Prize royalty, yet her favourite gallery is now the boot of a well-loved hatchback parked on a Gozo lay-by. From there, and from a sun-splashed, on the move Gozo Seaside Studio, she sells one-of-a-kind, hand-drawn “wearable art” alongside canvases that still hum with desert light.

In the conversation that follows we discuss Selby’s artistic evolution, that led from London to Sydney to the Sinai sands and, finally, to Malta. She talks about settling into Gozo’s slow rhythm, running a pop-up gallery on wheels and how swapping the art-world spotlight for sea air was the best trade she ever made.

Part I: Art on the Move

1. Let’s start at the beginning: when did you start drawing?

Pretty much from the moment I could keep a grip on a biro. My exercise books were invaded by the oddballs who lived in my head, and wet-play days saw me chalking caricatures of every teacher on the blackboard: instant ‘Guess Who?’ for the class. At home I left giant googly eyes on the kitchen noticeboard, I would draw anywhere I could get away with. I never went to art school, so accuracy and I have a polite, distant relationship. Everything ends up a bit wonky, but that’s the charm.

Even now, a humble biro is my first love: cheap, everywhere, and perfect for scratching out texture, blends, even whole universes, plus there’s always another one to nick from someone’s desk!

2. When did your drawing move from a personal hobby to a professional career?

In Amsterdam aged 21, I made pavement art, but the career-switch really flipped the minute I landed in Sydney in my mid-twenties. For fun, I made some A1 chalk drawings ala pavement pieces: odd, surreal characters who looked like they’d wandered off a David Lynch set. A journalist friend encouraged me to hawk them round the glossies; by Friday every big magazine had slipped a brief under my arm. The real pinch-me moment came when The Sydney Morning Herald rang and said: “Fancy starting Monday?” One day a week quickly became my bread-and-butter.

Overnight I found myself sharing studio space, and takeaway coffee – with illustrators I’d only ever admired in print. You could spot each one instantly: they all uncannily resembled their own drawings. Doodles stopped being ‘just Selby’s habit’ and officially turned into a career.

Illustrators have a natural style that is them. You can’t see it yourself, and you definitely can’t learn it in college.

3. What would you say was the next defining point in your career?

I’d had my fill of perfect weather. At 31, I flew back to London with two suitcases and a chalk-stained portfolio. The rain was grim; the welcome wasn’t. The ICA handed me a solo show before I’d found a kettle. Film and telly scouts followed fast.

I kept one foot in advertising, the other in underground mags like Flirt og The Idler. The Idler bankrolled all my exhibitions: just me and the Turner Prize’s private view sharing their exclusive sponsorship and brouhaha, ladling absinthe from a green Routemaster bus. Collectors queued. Alan Rickman, yes, Snape himself, bought the first piece. Turns out he loved cartoons and was an avid collector.

Ironically, my career low came with prime-time exposure: my art was used in The Graham Norton Show title sequence without my permission or fee. Copyright laws didn’t protect artists well then. A lawyer told me the best I could do was make my work so recognisable that everyone knew it was a Selby.

That lit a fire in me. I doubled down – more work, more shows, more buzz.

Part II: A Decade in the Desert

4. London was buzzing, your diary was full, and Snape had just bought a piece, yet you vanished to the Sinai. What happened?

Desperation, not inspiration. I was burnt out, and the UK art scene seemed to demand being a full-time drunk. I booked a flight to Cairo, intending to regroup, then head for Paris. Instead, the Sinai desert captivated me.

Karim Francis at Townhouse Gallery Cairo dangled an exhibition, but the desert had other ideas. I pitched a tent with Bedouin families, swapped champagne launches for hibiscus tea, and found joy in small jobs: hand-painting dive-shop signs, painting the odd commission.

Fame stopped mattering; doodling felt enough. One season turned into a decade, and my lines loosened, colours brightened, and the need to hustle simply drifted off on the desert wind.

I no longer cared about fame or
success. I was happy to doodle away as usual, accept humble sign-writing work
for dive shops and take the occasional painting commission.

5. What were some of the challenges of living in Egypt, and how did the idea of moving to Gozo come about?

The 2011 uprising dried up Sinai’s tourist trade: work vanished, friends packed up and headed back home. I knew I wanted to leave, yet after a decade of quiet, close to nature living in a non-consumer culture, everywhere seemed too stressful.

Then, by lucky chance, I discovered Gozo. I was doing design work for a holiday company, and the director had booked a health retreat at Amchara’s Gozo venue.”Gozo’s where it’s at,” she said, and asked if I’d handle the catering for her proposed Gozo holidays. I’d heard the name, but still had to zoom in on a map to find the island.

Someone gave me an old Malta guide book, and as I read, Gozo sounded perfect, halfway between the close-to-nature Sinai, yet still in Europe.

Part III: Sketching Out a Life in Gozo

6. What were your first impressions of Gozo? Was it a culture shock or did it feel like home?

Things weren’t easy at first – the holiday job fell through, and prices were higher than I’d expected. I put my tiny inheritance into renting a licenced guesthouse and launched a catering business. It was hard work, but every day brought a “Gozo moment.” The scenery is stunning, and the people are warm and full of humour.

I arrived in Gozo with my blender, juicer, grinder, and my big Egyptian dog – like a travelling circus. It was stressful, but stepping off the ferry felt like shedding all my worries. The island has a special energy.

7. How was it settling in and setting up your business?

Surprisingly easy. Even now, it’s so much simpler than the UK. You just walk into the local council office, pay your hawker’s licence fee, and that’s it. In the UK, I couldn’t even find out how to get a licence – I gave up trying.

8. What sparked the idea of creating hand-drawn, wearable art, and how did the T-shirts become such a key part of your work?

The T-shirts make art affordable and fun. Paintings take time, they’re expensive. A print is just a print. But the T-shirts? Each one is hand-drawn and unique. Even when they start to fade, they’re still a gorgeous piece to treasure, whether you wear them or hang them on the wall.

I actually started making them in London as gifts for friends, using nothing more than a laundry marker. I’ve since developed my technique (but that’s a trade secret).

What I love is the immediacy, you can create something joyful, cheeky, or meaningful, and someone gets to wear it out into the world the same day.

9. What reactions do you get from people? Any memorable moments?

Lots of laughter, lots of double takes, and often requests for something personal. I draw them on site now, in the sun, while people wait or wander off for a swim. It’s all part of the Seaside Studio vibe.

Part IV: Seaside Studio: Canvas on Wheels

10. Looking ahead, what are the future plans for Seaside Studio?

I’m creating more wearable whimsy, whilst on site, from the myriad doodles in my sketchbooks. I can personalise or draw on a favourite item of clothing: art that’s tailored to you.

I’ll also do a lot more paintings, it’s becoming an addiction. They’ll get faster and more affordable. I’m adding a new Gozo Map series to my ‘Oh So Gozo‘ postcard range, plus making hand-drawn pen-and-ink postcards of Gozo landmarks. It makes people’s day to receive a real, hand-drawn postcard—Facebook holiday updates cannot compete!

I’m also launching a range of wooden puzzles. Still black and white (toddlers see only contrast at first), and educational, plus it’s art to hang on the nursery wall. I plan to sell these into various outlets across Malta.

11. Do you see Gozo as your long-term home? What are your personal hopes moving forward?

I’m a bit of a gypsy, and you never know what the future holds, but I’d love to stay on Gozo. I never travel or go on holiday, why bother? All my old friends want to visit me here anyway.

Once I drive enough sales from my car, I’d love to have a real-life shop stocking arty items from all over. Bedouin ladies’ beautiful beaded bags, for instance.

For now, I’m happy making a smaller splash at the seaside.

Beyond the Frame

Selby’s journey is a testament to the freedom found in following one’s own path: one that led her from city pavements to desert sands and finally, to Gozo’s tranquil shores. Her Seaside Studio stands as a symbol of that journey: a mobile, intimate space where art and everyday life meet.

This little gallery on wheels isn’t just about selling art : it’s about creating connections, sparking smiles, and making creativity part of the everyday. In a world that often moves too fast, Selby’s wearable art and hand-drawn treasures offer a moment to pause and appreciate something personal and joyful.

So whether you’re a local or just passing through, the Seaside Studio is a great Gozo pit stop: her gallery-to-go is parked daytimes in Xlendi, past Seashells and Valley View restaurants and just across road from the bus stop – if she’s motored off just give her ping. No holiday’s complete until you’ve been there, bought the t-shirt!

Hot foot it to the shop-in-a-boot to find some gems in a ‘treasure trunk’ washed up on the shore!

You can find her on Instagramog Facebook , or through her WhatsApp: +356779211189 — where art, whimsy, and island life come together.

Take Gozo home – pack a piece of Selby’s wearable whimsy in your suitcase!