dev.bilet.ski
Most of these are concept sites, built for a local company whose whole online presence was a directory listing and a Facebook page. Each one was researched first and built from what could be verified about that business. Nothing here is a template with the name swapped.
The previews below are the real pages, shrunk down. Click one to open it full size.
A sushi and pan-Asian restaurant two blocks from the Peace Arch crossing, written up until now only in listings and reviews. The site is built from its actual menu, its real storefront photos, and the ratings it has honestly earned, good and bad. It scrolls in scenes: the storefront, the dishes people order, the room.
A small Bellingham electrician with no street address or phone number published anywhere we could verify, so the site prints neither rather than borrow a namesake's. A short, quiet page: as you scroll, the photographs warm from dim to lit, the way a room does when the power comes back.
A motor and machine shop on C Street. The page runs like a short film about a breakdown: a motor stops, the crew gets it turning again, and the phone number is there at the end. First of the concept sites, and the grandest, which the later ones deliberately are not.
A used bookstore on Grand Avenue with 300,000 books in a warren of floor-to-ceiling shelves, downtown since 1986 and still without a website of its own. The page is set in chapters with a contents rail, and scrolling takes you deeper into the stacks, from the blue storefront to the back room, using photographs of the shop itself.
A one-groomer dog grooming shop on Ohio Street. Its entire web presence was a claimed Yelp page, so the site is built from the shop's own words and its own photographs: one dog at a time, the way she grooms, hours kept as an appointment book, and the pink chair from her room setting the colors.
A small-town American diner on 3rd Street in Lynden, open 6 to 4 and closed Sundays, whose listing's website was its Facebook page. The site is the diner's menu board dressed in its own building: the red-letter sign, the blue awning, the stone front. Despite the name and the town, there is nothing Dutch about the food, and the site says so.