The Website Pages You're Ignoring That Are Losing You Clients
A wedding photographer client I know books events at $15K+ a wedding. Her homepage looks like a it belongs in a Nancy Meyers movie, and her Instagram makes strangers cry in the comments.
Buuuut… her FAQ page still lists a wedding planner that closed five years ago. Nobody told the website the planner closed, and so the website has been out here confidently recommending a parking lot.
Her website visitor clicked three pages deep, hit that closed business and inactive website, and closed the tab without a word. The photographer never got an angry email or a polite decline. The lead simply went cold, and she never found out why.
Everyone obsesses over the homepage: the font, the hero image, the exact shade of white. Meanwhile, the pages doing the actual convincing sit untouched for years, describing a version of the business that retired a while ago.
Your Homepage Was Never the One Deciding Anything
A homepage has one job: making someone think, "okay, tell me more." Truly nothing more than that.
The deciding happens later, on the About page, where she is checking whether you sound like someone worth six months of emails; on the FAQ page, where she is hunting for the one answer that has been keeping her up at 1am; on the pricing page, where she finds out if you say a number like an adult, or make her ask for one like she is requesting a favor.
A homepage sells a feeling. Every page after it either backs that feeling up or takes it apart, seam by seam.
The About Page Stuck in a Previous Era of Your Business
An interior designer I worked with finished her design certification (woop woop!). Her About page still bragged about it like it happened last spring when in reality it happened several years ago.
The page also mentioned a business partner who left in 2021, and a design philosophy she had personally outgrown twice over since writing it. It didn’t mention the magazine feature from last year, and it didn’t mention that her client roster now includes two lake houses and a ski chalet, a long way from the one-bath condo flips she built her reputation on.
Reading this stuff is good, but it’s also like looking at a photo of you from twenty pounds and one haircut ago, the one your mother-in-law still has framed on her piano. The face is familiar, but the decade is wrong.
Clients read your About page hunting for the person running the business, someone specific and current. If the person on the page sounds like an earlier draft of you, she will price you like the earlier draft, too.
(and I don’t think you want that)
The FAQ Page Still Answering a Question From Last Spring
A prospective client once emailed my personal stylist client asking about a closet-audit service. My client had stopped offering that service eighteen months earlier in favor of her seasonal styling packages, so she had to explain, again, that it no longer existed, then walk a stranger through what she sells now, over email, before either of them had even gotten on the phone.
This cost her a whole afternoon, and it left a prospect filing this business away under "seems a little disorganized."
Your FAQ page should keep pace with what your current client is asking this season, updated past whatever your business used to field three offers ago.
Pull the questions straight from your inbox or sales call transcripts. If you have fielded the same question five times this month, it belongs on that page, written the way you would text it to a friend at 9pm rather than the way a template would phrase it at a conference (or the way Claude would write it with all its contrast framing language).
The Pricing Page That Refuses to Say a Single Number
Ask an attorney's website what a consultation costs, and half the time it will not tell you. One of my attorney clients had zero pricing information anywhere on her site. There was no range, no starting number, not even a shy "packages start at" tucked into a footnote.
Her ideal client had never hired an attorney before and was already nervous about the cost, a little embarrassed to even be asking.
So she did not ask.
Most people in that spot will not. They will invent a worse number in their head than whatever you would charge, and go find someone, anyone, who will just put the pricing on their website.
The same thing happens on e-commerce sites, where the return policy lives three clicks deep in a footer link nobody has ever willingly clicked. People find it right around the moment they are holding a sweater that runs suspiciously small, hunting for a receipt and order number they cannot locate.
If they have to search for the answer to "what happens if this doesn't fit," they’ve already opened a second tab, and that tab belongs to your competitor.
I’m practically BEGGING you to just say the number. Or at the very least, give a price range or a "starting at" and move on with your life.
Silence on pricing reads as expensive, or disorganized, or sleazy, and most people will not stick around to find out which category you fall into.
The Portfolio Page Frozen Three Seasons Behind Your Current Work
My baker client's Instagram told a completely different story than her website did. Her portfolio page starred three weddings from years earlier, back when her whole aesthetic was pink and peonies, eucalyptus, and blush ribbon. Her current work is moody and textured, crafted uniquely. It’s the work that built her entire new client base.
But that work lived exclusively on Instagram, buried under two years of posts, three moves, and a puppy. Anyone who visited her website met the baker she used to be. Anyone who scrolled deep enough on Instagram met the florist she had become. It amounted to two different businesses, and only one of them was findable on Google.
Your portfolio page should work like a filter. Curate it around the work you want more of, the work that is selling right now, rather than whatever you happened to have decent photos of when you built the site.
The Testimonial Sitting on the Wrong Page
Most of the people I work with have genuinely great reviews, but oftentimes the problem is where they lived.
Every glowing quote sat on its on “Testimonials” page, and that page alone, with zero social proof anywhere else.
The fix here is placement: Lose the full “testimonials” page and put the right proof next to the right decision.
The wedding planner's testimonial about ease under pressure belongs on the booking page, front and center, instead of buried on a lengthy Testimonials page scroll. The photographer’s mini session reviews belong on the- you guessed it- mini sessions sales page, right where someone is hovering over "get on my calendar," hoping a stranger will talk them into it.
The Contact Page That Reads Like a Grad School Application
An interior designer’s inquiry form had 18 fields, including one asking a prospective client to describe her "design philosophy in three sentences or fewer."
Most people filling out a contact form are excited, a little nervous, and holding their phone at a weird angle in the parking lot outside preschool pickup.
They are not in the mood to write an admissions essay before anyone has even hopped on a call.
The same problem shows up on e-commerce sites, where the contact page routes to a generic form with zero explanation of what happens next or how long a reply takes. People fill it out, then wonder for days whether it went anywhere at all (I am personally a victim of this).
Ask for just enough information to have a good first conversation, then save the essay questions for after she has already booked the call, when she is invested enough to answer them.
What to Go Check on Your Website This Week
Here’s what I want you to do this week.
Open your own website like a stranger would, ideally one who is a little judgmental. Click every page. Read every sentence out loud.
Wherever you wince, that is the page to fix first. Your body knows before your brain admits it.
Run through this list:
About page: does it describe the business you are running today, or the one you started?
FAQ page: does it answer what people are asking you this month, or what they asked two years ago?
Pricing page: could someone find a number without emailing you first like it is a hostage negotiation?
Portfolio page: does it reflect your current taste, or your 2021 taste?
Testimonials: are they sitting next to the specific offer they are supposed to be selling?
Contact page: does it take thirty seconds, or ten minutes and a personality quiz?
None of this requires a full rebuild. It requires a refresh, yes.
And it definitely requires the willingness to admit the page(s) you built 2-3 years ago might be describing a business that no longer exists.
That wedding photographer from the top of this post fixed her FAQ page in an afternoon. She updated the vendor list and added three questions pulled straight from her last ten inquiry calls. She did not touch the homepage at all.
Her next month of inquiries came in warmer, further along, already half sold before the call started. The homepage never changed. The rest of the site finally caught up to the business she had already built.
Here's the Part Where I Tell You It's Not a Font Problem
Every page on this list has the same root issue: nobody's sat down and gotten ruthlessly clear on what your business actually is right now, who it's actually for, and what you want every single page to be doing.
That's the whole point of Sunday Strategy. You walk away with data-backed answers—the ones that make the FAQ page write itself and the pricing page stop being a hostage negotiation.
Strategy first. Then the pretty part.
