Twelve prices to three, two menus to one: a yoga studio gets a front door

A great studio behind a website that did everything

WellNest is the kind of place people tell their friends about quietly. Converted church, stained glass, 500-plus five-star reviews. I was a member for a year before I looked at the site as a stranger would.

A stranger got nine links, twelve prices and a headline about mind, body and soul. Nothing said "you're new, start here". So I offered Harriet a fix.

Twenty-one decisions before a first class

The site had one job: turn a first-time visitor into a booked beginner, then into a member. It was built to do the opposite. Three leaks did the damage.

• Nine links in two rows. A visitor had to choose between Retreat, Massage, WellFest and a children's hub before they knew what the studio was.
• Twelve ways to pay. Four tiers, class passes, off-peak and student rates, all on one page, before a single class. Most people picked the easiest option: leaving.
• Proof in the wrong place. The reviews sat mid-page. The teachers sat on a page nobody found. The hero said "Taking care of your mind, body and soul".

One question ran the whole audit: how might a nervous beginner get from the homepage to a mat with one decision?

Three lenses, every call

• Fewer options, more chosen. Past a handful of choices, people stop picking the best one and pick nothing.
• One job per page. A page hired to do three things does none. Keep it, merge it or cut it.
• Proof at the point of decision. Reviews, faces and prices belong where the click happens, not one page away.

Less to choose, more gets chosen

Two rows of links became one row and one button. The children's hub left the main site. Three quiet pages went under More.

Twelve prices became three tiers built around a habit: four classes a month to start, eight to make it stick, unlimited for the committed. I designed it and handed it over. Harriet shipped it in her own names, with Ritual as the hero.

Beginners get a door of their own

The site had no answer to "I'm new, where do I start?". So I built one page for that person and nobody else.

The headline takes the fear away first. Then a short guide from Harriet, what actually happens when you walk in, her face, the room, the map, and one form.

Proof moved to where the decision happens

The hero became a sentence with the studio's proof inside it, over a photo of a real class. The award and the reviews sit in the first screen now.

People pick a teacher more than they pick a class. So the teachers' faces moved from their own page to the booking list, next to the class they teach.

What moved, and what is being measured

The structure shipped. The numbers come next. Being tracked: guide downloads and free-class claims in Mailchimp, Start Here traffic and bounce in Squarespace, and local search for the three articles in flight.

First reading due October 2026. It goes here, good or bad.

Three lessons

Don't push a founder's pricing

Pricing is her livelihood, not my deck. I designed the tiers, explained them once, and left the decision with her. She shipped them her way. That is the win.

Get the numbers before the psychology

I read sites for the biases they trigger. That is still where the value is. But how many land, click, book and stay comes first, or every diagnosis is a guess.

Simplicity needs a keeper

Six months on, the nav has seven links again. Shop, Blog, Massage. Sites drift back towards everything. A quarterly prune belongs in the handover.

Braumo: a conversion-first web agency for UK dental practices →