Clients get their own front door
They sign in and see their projects, their files, their invoices — and nothing belonging to anyone else.
For design studios who have rebuilt work they already delivered
Somebody junior said “yeah, looks great, ship it” in an email thread. So you shipped it. Three weeks later the person who actually holds the budget takes one look and asks “who approved this?” — and you rebuild it. For free. Again.
↑ Four people at the same client. Everyone can talk. One person can say yes.
It’s stamped with his name and the date, against that exact version, in a place nobody can quietly edit later. “I never approved that” stops being a conversation you can lose.
Live in five days · no per-seat pricing · the accounts are in your name from day one
The other half of the problem. Eleven days, five emails, and not one decision:
↑ Eleven days. Nobody approved anything. Nobody got invoiced.
Nothing here is broken. The work lives in one place, the money in another, and the client in your inbox.
Not one of them lets the client in. So the client comes to you.
Fifty-three screens ship with it. These eight change your week; the rest are quiet until you want them.
They sign in and see their projects, their files, their invoices — and nothing belonging to anyone else.
Work goes out as a decision, not an attachment. Approve, or request changes — recorded, dated, signed. “I never approved that” stops being a conversation.
Owner signs and pays. Manager approves. Team member uploads. Viewer looks. Set per client in a minute — the wrong person doesn’t get the button.
Projects, tasks, calendar and pipeline in one place. What’s moving, what’s stuck, and who it’s sitting with. Usually them.
Raise it against the work, send it, see who hasn’t paid — without opening anything else. It bills. It isn’t your accountant.
Your logo, your colours, your domain. Nothing on the screen mentions us. As far as they know, you built it.
She’s carried half your client relationships in her head and none of it is written down. This keeps a standing list of who is the only person on something — read off your project records, not her inbox.
Backed up nightly, and read back to check it restores — an unread backup is a hope. Any records export to a plain file. Nothing holds you hostage.
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That was the half your clients touch. This is the half you get — no extra charge, and no obligation to open any of it on day one.
Most studio tools stop at the to-do list. This one knows what you’re owed.
Not "onboarding". Not a "discovery phase". A week, with your actual work in it at the end.
Your stages, your roles, who is allowed to approve what. Bring a job that went sideways — everyone has one.
Your instance, your subdomain, your logo and colours — on accounts opened in your name.
Live clients, live jobs, the invoices you’re still chasing. No sample data.
An hour together. If it needs a training course, it’s built wrong.
Two or three to start. The first decision that lands there instead of your inbox pays for the week.
The accounts are yours. Your domain, your hosting, your database — opened in your name, on your card, on day one. About $40–50 a month, paid straight to them, no markup.
So there is no switch we can flip. Sack us on a Wednesday and nothing turns off — you keep the system, the data, the logins, and a runbook any developer can pick up.
The whole week below, your branding, your real work loaded in. Then pick a support option — or don't.
Same week, same result, no strings attached to the end of it.
It's yours, it's running, we're done. Genuinely a fine choice.
The sensible middle. Email support, one business day, Monday to Friday.
On top of the care plan, when you want the thing itself changed.
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For scale: a custom-built client portal runs $25,000–$60,000 and takes six months. We're the other option.
A designer hands in their notice and takes eleven years of “oh, they always want it in Pantone” with them. Not the files — those you have. The other stuff.
You mark someone as leaving. It reads their clients, projects, tasks and pitches, and assembles what they were actually carrying — before you’ve asked them a single question.
“Three projects have nobody on them but her.” That’s the sentence you want six weeks before the last day, not on it.
Whoever takes over gets what the role held and where the gaps are — and can ask questions about it in plain English instead of reading a spreadsheet.
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Notice periods are thirty days.
Most handovers start on day twenty-six.
It reads your clients, projects, tasks and pitches. Not their email, not their chat, not their Dropbox. What it can’t see is whatever never got typed anywhere — so it tells you which questions to ask them while they’re still here.
Every other page today told you what its software does. Here is the other list — you would find out in week two anyway, and week two is a rotten time to find out.
Not a demo call — four questions. If it isn't a fit we'll say so in the first ten minutes and give you the twenty back.
A real person, same working day.
Twenty minutes, four questions, no slides. Tell us how the job runs where you are — we work with design studios — and you'll get a reply from the person who built it. There is no sales team to pass you to.