“Who created your website?” If you asked someone in San Francisco this, you know you are looking at a wild pond. Perhaps someone with neon hair reading HTML on Muni, or “a friend’s roommate.” It is a treasure quest, not a purchase. That is city life for you. The search for the ideal web designer reveals a combination of Silicon Valley quickness and old-fashioned appeal. Visit SF Website Design before reading this.
Coffee shops buzz with codes here. Wander around Dolores Park and you will most likely hear discussions about color theory or why Comic Sans should be banned. Designers of websites in this city? They are a unique group. There are some chess players using your typefaces. Others virtually meditate while obtaining just that hue of blue.
Rarely is a San Francisco designer scheduled for a meeting buttoned down. Someone in a throwback windbreaker or a techy hat cap bristling with Raspberry Pi could meet you. From minimalists who believe “less is more,” to maximalists who believe every pixel serves a purpose—and maybe a backstory—there is flavor for every palate.
Discussions become crazy. “Hey Sam, do you want something wild enough to cause users to spill their coffee or subdued animation?” One local designer asked me over kombucha this question. That is indeed a real quotation. The feeling? Animated, occasionally cheeky, never dull. People want websites that move, interact, occasionally even dance. San Francisco designers might just refer to your website as a fossil if it isn’t alive.
Still, money is the topic here. Rates span more than those of the Golden Gate Bridge cables. Seed funded startups drop blank cheques. Scrappy charities trade—perhaps a batch of vegan donuts or a painting. If you know the secret handshake, freelancers set up shop in the Ritual Coffee section and have fees negotiable on headphones on. Agencies shine with presentations slicker than an Octavia foggy morning.
The unpleasant truth is, though, a sleek website means zilch if it breaks on your mother’s Ohio phone. Local designers test for everyone, even grandma’s iPad, your nephew’s old Android, even that strange browser called Vivaldi. Call it “democratic design” with a San Francisco spin.
Trends move like Karl the Fog. Today it’s brutalism; tomorrow it’s neomorphism; by lunch it’ll be retro anime typefaces. SF designers ride these waves with great enthusiasm; occasionally they toss the board and only swim. Hand-drawn elements were mentioned by someone. There’s a sixty-percent chance it will show up on your homepage.
One pro-tip: avoid showing up with a printout of Amazon and then declaring, “make it like this.” Your backbone will tremble from side-eyed intense contraction. Originality earns high marks. Not so much copycats.
Finding your web designer here is all told a bit like catching the F-train: pack your patience, welcome the eccentricities, and enjoy the ride. You might occasionally produce a digital masterpiece. Occasionally you find a narrative that would make people raise questions during the following brunch. In either case, the hunt is half the entertainment value.