You need a website. You type it into Google and get a million results. Every single one says the same things: "beautiful design," "great communication," "results-driven approach."
But here's the thing — they can't all be great. Some of them will waste your money. Some will disappear halfway through. And some will build you something so complicated that you need to call them every time you want to change a phone number on your own website.
So how do you tell who's actually good?
I've been on both sides of this. I've built websites for venture capital firms, law offices, film studios, cybersecurity companies, and foundations running online shops. And I've heard the horror stories from clients who came to me after working with someone else.
Here are seven things I'd look for if I were hiring someone to build my website. I'm going to be blunt — that's how I am — but this honesty is exactly what I'd want someone to give me.
1. You should talk to the person who'll actually build your site
At bigger agencies, there's a sales team and a build team. Different people. The charming person in the first meeting disappears. You get handed to someone who wasn't there, didn't hear your ideas, and is juggling four other projects.
Then things start breaking down. You mention something from the first call. They look confused. You explain again. And again.
I work differently. I'm in every meeting, every design review, every launch. Not because I don't trust other people — but because I think every client and every project is different, and the only way to get the details right is to be the person who heard them firsthand.
When Mariusz from Codepole hired me to rebuild their website, he didn't talk to a salesperson. He talked to me. And when the project was done, the same person who promised the result was the one who delivered it. That's not a luxury — it should be the standard.
2. A good partner will tell you what you don't need
This is the hardest thing for most agencies. Saying no means a smaller invoice. So they say yes to everything. "Sure, let's add a blog! And an app! And animations everywhere!"
I don't work that way. If something on your wish list won't help you get customers, I'll tell you. Straight. I'd rather lose a bigger project than build something bloated that doesn't serve you.
When Jugglers came to me with an idea for a creator booking platform, they had a massive vision. I said: "Let's build the core first. The 20% that delivers 80% of the value. Then we add more when real users tell us what they actually need." Three months later, they had a working product with real paying users. Not a slideshow. Not a prototype. A real business.
That's what I mean by strategy. I look at the whole picture — your budget, your timeline, your market — and I find the shortest path to a result that matters. I don't build features. I build outcomes.
Ask any developer this question: "What would you cut from my plan?" If they say "nothing, we can do it all" — they're not advising you. They're selling to you.
3. They should explain everything like you're not a programmer
If someone explains what they're building and you don't understand a word — that's their fault, not yours.
Some developers use complicated language on purpose. It makes simple things sound impressive, which makes you feel like you need them more. That's not expertise. That's a trick.
I'll say: "We're building your site on Webflow. Think of it like a really smart editor — after we launch, you can change text and photos yourself without calling anyone. It's also fast, which means Google will like it more and show it to more people."
I won't say: "We're deploying a JAMstack solution with headless CMS integration optimised for Core Web Vitals."
Same thing. One helps you make a decision. The other makes you nod and pretend.
I genuinely believe that if you can't explain something simply, you don't understand it well enough. And I love explaining things — I'll share ideas and knowledge even when it goes way beyond what the project requires. Paweł from Roche said exactly that: "not a typical IT guy, but someone who shares knowledge during the project, even if it doesn't strictly require it."
4. What happens after launch matters more than the launch itself
Here's the part nobody talks about during the sales pitch: what happens two months later when something breaks? You send an email. Nothing. You call. Voicemail. The agency has moved on to the next client.
Before you sign anything, ask three things:
"What if something breaks?" At Thunder Cloud, every project comes with a 24-month warranty. If something I built stops working, I fix it. For free. No discussion, no hourly rate, no "well, that's outside the scope."
"Will I be able to update my own site?" This is huge. If you can't change a team member's name without calling a developer — you're not a client, you're a hostage. I record personalised video tutorials for every project. Not generic YouTube stuff. Videos made specifically for your site, showing you exactly where to click, what to change, how it all works. Tomasz from DOGZ.design mentioned this as one of the biggest advantages of working together.
"Will you still be here in a year?" I've been working with some clients for years. Not because of a contract — because the relationship works and we keep building. Paweł from Roche and his Wytwornia Sylwetki team is a great example: I built their entire training platform from scratch, and I'm still part of their team, still adding new features, still improving things together.
5. Look at the plan, not just the price
"€5,000 and six weeks" tells you almost nothing. What if you hate the design? What if your priorities change? What happens when you can't get your photos ready in time?
A good partner walks you through the whole journey before you pay anything:
First: We sit down and figure out what you actually need. Not "I want a website" — but what problem it's solving, who it's for, and what happens if it works. I look at patterns most people miss, and I like to see three different paths before choosing the best one.
Then: We sketch out the structure. You see the skeleton before any building starts. Don't like it? We change it. Nothing is wasted.
Then: We design how it looks. You give feedback. I adjust. We go back and forth until you're not just OK with it — you're excited. I'm an optimist by nature, and I want you to feel that energy about your own project.
Then: I build it, test it on every device I can find.
Then: We launch together and I make sure you know how everything works.
Then: I stick around. For years, not days.
That's how every project works. No surprises, no hidden stages. I don't believe in making things more complicated than they need to be.
6. They should never trap you
Some agencies build your website on their own custom system. It feels special. Until you realise: if you ever want to leave, you can't take your site with you. The design, the content, sometimes even your domain name — it all stays with them.
I call my approach "easy on, easy off." I build on standard platforms like Webflow and WordPress. If you decide to work with someone else next year — for any reason at all — you take everything. Design, code, content, domain. All yours.
This might sound like bad business on my part. It's not. It means every client who stays with me, stays because they want to — not because they're stuck. That's the kind of relationship I want to build.
Test for any developer: Ask "What happens if I want to move to someone else?" If the answer makes you uncomfortable, you have your answer.
7. Watch how they handle the hard stuff
This is the most important thing on this list, and most people miss it completely.
Pay attention to how someone talks about problems. Does everything sound smooth and easy? Do they have a confident answer before you even finish asking?
That's a sales pitch. Not real life.
Real projects have real problems. Content is always late. Things that seemed simple turn out to be complicated. Timelines shift because life happens. A good partner doesn't pretend otherwise — they tell you upfront what could go wrong and how they'll handle it.
When I took on the project for Human.film — a postproduction studio with incredibly diverse, artistic work — I was honestly nervous. Their portfolio was so varied and their aesthetic so unique that I wasn't sure I could do it justice. So I told them. Straight up. "This is going to be hard. Here's what I'm worried about. Here's how I think we can solve it."
We worked through it together, and the result is something we're all genuinely proud of. But that honesty at the start is what made it possible. If I'd pretended to have all the answers, we would have ended up somewhere wrong — and neither of us would have known until it was too late.
I know this isn't how most people sell. Most people project confidence. I project honesty. Because I've seen what happens when people promise more than they can deliver, and it's never pretty.
The short version
You don't need to know anything about code or websites to pick the right person. You just need five questions:
"Who will I actually be working with?"
"What would you remove from my plan?"
"What happens when things go wrong?"
"Can I leave whenever I want?"
"How do I make changes on my own?"
A good partner won't dodge a single one. And if they get excited answering them — if they lean forward and start drawing things on a napkin — you've probably found the right person.
That's how I am in every first conversation. I can't help it. I get genuinely excited about other people's ideas and I want to see them work.
If you want to experience that — no pressure, no commitment, just a real conversation about your project — book a free call. I'll tell you honestly if I can help. And if I can't, I'll tell you that too.