So I think of miniatures as craft, not art. They have to be functional AND beautiful, and spending too much time painting them can lead to stress and rage as tabletop wear and tear takes its toll - at least for me. This goes double for metal miniatures, which chip far too easily even using the best primers, strongest sealants, and tender care.
So I personally disassociate a bit when it comes to making a miniature as beautiful as it could be, compromising the art of it with the knowledge that it has to serve its purpose - and in wargaming, that purpose is to look like an army. With this sort of mini, I prefer to concentrate on the aesthetic impact of the whole force - rather than trying to make each miniature as amazing as possible - with a shared color palette that only allows minor deviations.
That said, Haley2 is a wonderful miniature, and (frankly) one of two reasons that I picked Cygnar - the other reason being Haley3, which I haven't gotten yet. It was worth spending a great deal of time painting every detail on her, even if I was limited in my color palette to what I'd already chosen for Cygnar.
Because to my judgment her cloak swirl is a magical effect, I tried to make it clear that at one point it transitions from a physical object to a ethereal object with a high gloss, an internal 'glow', and some wet blending that goes from the yellow to a dark blue. It's not perfect, but does serve to make her stand out from her army (not that it'd be hard, seeing as how she's a 30mm mini taller than some warjacks!)
I didn't have my Thorn converted yet as of the time I took this picture, and my Testor's Dullcote ran out of cote after I finished painting Thorn - meaning he's just WAAY to shiny to take good snaps of until I get a new batch.
Here's another snap that I set up to be more like a 'real' tabletop situation, terrain and all:
As a side note, her cloak mysteriously chipped not a week after finishing her (while she was ON THE SHELF), and I had to touch it up - the spot's still not perfect, sad to say, and only telling myself "it's craft, not art" allowed me to accept it.