Steampunk crystallized in the 1980s as a literary subgenre — K.W. Jeter coined the term in 1987, half-joking about the wave of Victorian-era science fiction he and fellow writers Tim Powers and James Blaylock were producing. But the aesthetic roots run deeper: Jules Verne's submarines, H.G. Wells's time machines, the real brass-and-iron engineering of the Industrial Revolution.
The visual language solidified through film and fashion before it ever reached screens. Terry Gilliam's Brazil, the costuming of maker culture, the elaborate contraptions of World Maker Faire. By the 2010s, steampunk had a fully developed design vocabulary: brass, gears, leather, rivets, Victorian typography, and the patina of imagined antiquity.
On the web, steampunk remains a niche but committed aesthetic. It appears in game interfaces, fan community sites, themed events, and the portfolios of artists who build real clockwork. The challenge has always been the same: translating physical texture — metal, leather, glass — into CSS. Gradients do the heavy lifting. The best steampunk web design doesn't just look Victorian-mechanical — it feels like you could reach through the screen and turn a brass dial.