The Website Brief That Actually Gets Results

The Website Brief That Actually Gets Results

How to write a brief that makes your designer’s job easier and your site more effective.

I used to take beautiful photos for brands and hand them over, only to watch them sit on a gorgeous website that nobody ever visited. The images were great. The site was great. The business was great. And the traffic was almost zero.

That was my first lesson in something I still find myself explaining to clients: a beautiful vision isn’t enough. You have to know how to translate it into something the rest of the world can find, understand, and act on.

The website brief is where that translation happens. And most of them are written in a way that almost guarantees the final site misses the mark.

If you’ve ever hired a designer, handed over a Pinterest board and a one-paragraph “here’s what I want,” and ended up with a site that didn’t convert, didn’t sound like you, or didn’t feel like yours — this post is for you.

The real reason website briefs fail

Here’s the thing most business owners don’t realize: your designer doesn’t read your mind.

When you send a brief that says “I want something clean, modern, and minimal — like Apple but warmer,” you’ve described a feeling, not a project. Your designer is now left guessing what your business actually does, who it’s for, what you want visitors to do, and what success looks like.

I’ve been on both sides of this. As the photographer who handed clients images they didn’t know how to use. As the designer who got briefs that were essentially “make it look good.” And as the founder who built Lumé specifically because I kept seeing visionary people — wellness practitioners, coaches, studio owners — with extraordinary ideas and no clear way to bring them to life online.

A great brief isn’t longer. It isn’t more corporate. It’s just clearer.

What your designer actually needs to know

There are seven things I ask every client for before I open Figma. Skip any of them and something breaks downstream.

1. Who is this site for?

Not “everyone.” Not “people who need help.” A real answer looks like: “Women, 35–55, who teach yoga in their hometown and are starting to think about offering retreats in Costa Rica. They already have a following on Instagram but no list, and they’re tired of DMs being their only sales channel.”

If you can’t describe your person in detail, your designer can’t design for them.

2. What does this site need to do?

• Every page has a job. Be honest about yours.

• Generate leads (book a call, download a guide)

• Sell a specific product or program

• Establish authority and credibility

• Serve existing clients (a customer hub)

• A combination of the above

• A site that tries to do everything does nothing well.

3. What’s the one action you want visitors to take?

If a stranger lands on your homepage and does exactly one thing before leaving — what is it?

• Click “Book a call”

• Join the waitlist

• Buy the 8-week program

• Read your most popular blog post

Pick one. The whole site should point to it.

4. What’s already working?

If you have an existing site, social following, email list, testimonials, or a current funnel that’s converting — your designer needs to see it. What’s working is a massive clue about what your audience actually responds to. Don’t hide it in pursuit of a fresh start.

5. What’s the brand feeling — not just the look?

Words matter here. “Calm but not boring,” “editorial but warm,” “luxurious but approachable” — these are useful. “I want it to be aesthetically pleasing” is not. Pick three to five adjectives. Add two or three sites you admire, with a sentence about what specifically you like about each.

6. What’s the offer?

Your designer should know exactly what you’re selling and at what price point. A $47 PDF and a $3,000 high-ticket coaching program demand completely different site architectures. Pretending they’re the same is how you end up with a sales page that buries the offer.

7. What’s the timeline and the budget?

Two things every good creative wants to know upfront, and most clients are scared to share. You don’t have to share exact numbers — but a range is essential. It saves both of you from building something that gets scrapped three weeks in.

The questions that change everything

If you only have an hour to write a brief, skip the boilerplate and answer these:

• Why does this site exist right now? Not in six months. Today.

• What does success look like 90 days after launch?

• What’s the one thing you absolutely don’t want this site to be?

• Where are you losing people today, and what do you think is causing it?

I’ve had more breakthroughs come out of those four questions than out of any mood board.

Common mistakes I see

A few patterns that come up over and over:

• The Pinterest dump. 87 screenshots and no direction. Designers need curation, not volume.

• The “make it look like my competitor’s site” trap. Their site is built for their audience, not yours.

• No mention of the offer. Designers end up building a beautiful brochure that doesn’t sell anything.

• Endless revision rounds because the brief was vague. You pay for them, in both money and time.

• Confusing “I like the look of this” with “this works for my business.” They’re different questions.

A simple brief template you can steal

Here’s a one-page version you can fill out today:
Project: What are we building?
Audience: Who is it for, in detail?
Primary goal: What should visitors do?
Offer: What are you selling, and at what price?
Existing assets: What do we already have that’s working?
Brand adjectives: Three to five words that describe how it should feel.
References: Two to three sites you admire, with a sentence each about why.
Anti-references: One or two sites you absolutely don’t want it to look or feel like.
Timeline: When does this need to launch?
Budget range: Even a rough one.
Success metric: How will you know this worked in 90 days?
Save this. Use it every time. Send it to your designer before they quote you.

One last thing

Most people can see a vision in their mind. They just don’t know how to translate it into something real.

That’s exactly what a good brief does. It’s not a corporate document. It’s the bridge between the world you’re picturing and the world you can actually build.

If you’ve been sitting on a website idea — or stuck halfway through a redesign — and you’re not sure how to get from the vision in your head to a site that’s actually working for your business, I’d love to hear about it. Book a free fit call and tell me what you’re trying to build. We’ll talk through whether Lumé is the right fit, and I’ll point you in the right direction either way.