Everyone says they want simple web design. Then they brief a carousel, three gradients, abstract shapes, and a brand film with soft-focus office plants.

That isn’t simple. That’s a costume.

If the page only works when it’s dressed up, it doesn’t work — like a pitch that only lands with the deck animations running.

In real simple web design, words and order do the heavy lifting. Not decoration.

The $14K Carousel That Said Nothing

SaaS company. 38 employees. Series A closed. They hired an agency for homepage redesign.

The brief included:

• Hero video with office shots
• 3-slide carousel
• Animated gradient background
• Abstract shapes floating around
• Testimonial slider
• “Make it feel premium”

Budget: $14K. Timeline: 6 weeks.

I asked the founder: “What if we write the page in plain text first? No images. Just words. If it converts in black and white, we know it works. Then we add one image.”

Founder: “That sounds… unfinished. We need it to look professional.”

Me: “Write it first. Design after. Two days.”

He agreed reluctantly.

What the Text-Only Draft Exposed

Black text. White background. System font. One column.

The value prop was vague: “Transform your workflow.”
The proof was generic: “Join 500+ companies.”
The CTA was unclear: “Get Started” — start what?

Nobody could explain what changed for the user. Not in one sentence. Not in three.

The fancy brief was hiding the fact that they couldn’t articulate their own value proposition. Abstract shapes weren’t going to fix that. Neither was premium videography of people nodding in meetings.

We spent 3 days fixing the words:

Before: “Transform your workflow”
After: “Cut support tickets 40% in first month”

Before: “Join 500+ companies”
After: “Reduced Acme Corp’s ticket volume from 180/week to 94/week”

Before: “Get Started”
After: “See 30-day trial dashboard”

Then we added ONE visual: screenshot of their actual dashboard showing ticket decline graph. Real data. Real interface. No stock photography of people pointing at whiteboards they clearly can’t read.

Total cost: $4,200 (vs $14K agency quoted)
Timeline: 5 days (vs 6 weeks)

The Results After Launch

Before:

• Bounce rate: 64%
• Time to CTA click: 8 minutes
• Trial signups: 1.8%
• Support questions about “what does this do”: constant

After:

• Bounce rate: 31%
• Time to CTA click: 90 seconds
• Trial signups: 4.1% (+128%)
• Support questions about “what does this do”: eliminated

Agency would’ve made a beautiful carousel that said nothing clearly. Text-first draft forced clarity. One image proved it.

That’s what proper SaaS website design looks like when you strip away the theatre.

Why ‘No Images’ First in Simple Web Design

My rule: write the page with no images first. Black text, white background, system font, one column. If it holds attention and gets the click in its underwear, you’ve got clarity. If it needs decoration to survive, you’ve got noise.

This is not anti-visual. When imagery carries the argument, brilliant — add one image that does the job of ten. But start with nothing. It forces the order, the promise, and the proof to do the heavy lifting.

Cuts the theatre.
You can’t hide a weak offer behind stock photography or illustrations of people pointing at charts.

Exposes the argument.
Headline, subhead, proof, objection, CTA. If any of those wobble, the page wobbles. Good UX design isn’t about making weak arguments look pretty — it’s about making strong arguments clear.

Saves time.
You avoid polishing layouts that will be deleted once the message is clear.

Improves speed by default.
A text-first draft snaps into performance budgets. When you later add visuals, they have to earn their bytes. Parallax is a tax on load time and user patience.

Makes design measurable.
Fewer decisions, fewer distractions, fewer requests for “more visual interest” (translation: stakeholders are bored and want to feel like they contributed).

The Page You Must Be Able to Sell With Words Alone

One viewport, five lines, one button.

Who it’s for.
Name the audience in plain English that users actually trust. No metaphor, no coyness.

What changes.
The result in the user’s language. Not “empower”, not “scale”. Actual outcome they can picture.

How it happens.
One sentence on the mechanism or angle. Not the entire process — just enough to be credible.

Proof.
A single number, reference, or outcome the audience respects. Not “Join 500+ companies.” Specifics.

Action.
The next step and what happens after the click.

That’s it. If you can’t get a stranger to nod at that block, no amount of videography will rescue it.

Like that SaaS company: once we forced the text-only draft, we realized “Transform your workflow” didn’t mean anything. “Cut support tickets 40% in first month” does.

The ‘No Images’ Draft: A Short, Ruthless Workflow

This is what I used with that SaaS company. Five steps, no shortcuts.

Step 1: Write the spine (10-15 mins)

Headline that names the change.
Not “The future of X” — the specific result.

Subhead that explains how.
One sentence. Mechanism or unique angle.

One CTA that states the next step plainly.
“See 30-day trial dashboard” not “Get Started.”

A single proof line.
Specific > poetic. “Acme Corp: 180/week → 94/week” beats “Join hundreds of teams.”

Step 2: Add the essentials (15-20 mins)

Objection panel: Answer the first doubt a rational buyer would have. “Will it work with Salesforce?” “What happens to my data?”

Social proof block: One quote or 3 logos you have permission to use. Not stock faces pretending to be customers.

Pricing path: A line that says where money happens (pricing page, demo, trial).

Footer links for grown-ups: Docs, Security, Changelog, Status. These prove you’re real.

Step 3: Read it aloud

If it sounds like something you’d say to a person, you’re close. If you’d be embarrassed to read it to a human, edit until you wouldn’t.

I read the SaaS company’s original draft aloud: “Transform your workflow and empower teams to scale seamlessly.” Sounded like a LinkedIn ad written by a bot.

Fixed version: “Cut support tickets 40% by routing questions to the right team automatically.” Sounds like a human explaining a real thing.

Step 4: Ship a plain prototype

Text-only page in your builder. System font, default styles, no grid fireworks. Put it in front of 3 users or 1 brutally honest colleague.

Fix the words before touching visuals. This is where most product design work should start — with clarity, not cosmetics.

Step 5: Add one visual that carries the argument

Choose one:

A UI still that shows the promised result on real-looking data. Not empty states, not demo data — actual interface with credible content.

A metric card (a graph or single number with a label). One data point that makes the claim feel inevitable.

A short clip (under 20 seconds) of the outcome, not the interface chrome.

If your chosen image doesn’t make the copy feel inevitable, it’s the wrong image.

For that SaaS company: we used one screenshot of the dashboard showing declining ticket volume. That was it. No carousel. No gradient overlays. One image that proved the headline.

How to Know Your Simple Web Design Is Actually Simple

Simplicity is not white space and thin type. Simplicity is fewer decisions for the user.

One goal per page.
If you’re asking for two things, you’ll get neither. That SaaS company originally wanted “sign up OR book demo OR download guide.” We picked one: see trial dashboard. Conversions doubled.

One route to the goal.
A single primary CTA. Everything else is supportive or demoted. Good UX/UI design makes the path obvious, not clever.

One argument per section.
Headline makes the point; the paragraph earns it; the CTA invites the next step.

One timeline.
The page should read like cause → effect. If a section can move without breaking the story, it probably doesn’t belong.

One speed budget.
Words load instantly. Any visual must fit your byte limits. Brand films that cost more than your MVP aren’t helping conversions.

These are the boring rules that make simple web design feel effortless.

Don’t Panic: What to Do When It Feels Too Plain

If the headline feels soft:
Replace adjectives with verbs and outcomes. “Faster onboarding” → “Cut onboarding from days to hours.”

If the proof feels thin:
Borrow credibility you actually have (numbers, names, compliance, uptime). If you have none, say what you can promise now, not a fantasy.

If the page feels short:
Add an objection, not a feature. “Will it work with X?” “What happens to my data?” Answer the first doubt buyers actually have.

If stakeholders want “more visual interest”:
Swap the chosen image, don’t add three. Or add micro-explanations (captions) that do the heavy lifting.

The SaaS company’s founder initially said the text-only draft felt “too plain.” After seeing the conversion numbers, he stopped asking for carousels.

What to Avoid (and What to Do Instead)

Avoid: Abstract hero art that could sell yoga or cybersecurity equally well
Do: A UI still that shows the thing your user wants to see

Avoid: Stock faces pretending to be customers
Do: A pull-quote with a specific outcome

Avoid: Long autoplay videos
Do: A short clip with a caption that names the result

Avoid: Carousels of everything
Do: One image that makes the copy feel inevitable

Where Images Do Earn Their Keep

Demonstration: Show the result (not every step).

Clarification: Remove ambiguity the copy can’t kill alone.

Trust: An integration matrix or security badge with a link to the real thing.

Momentum: A tight before/after for a single task.

If an image doesn’t serve one of those, it’s likely decor. Delete it. That’s how you keep simple web design actually simple.

A Tiny Checklist to Run Before You Start Art-Directing

• The page sells itself in words only (read aloud test)
• One goal, one route, one CTA
• First viewport = who it’s for, what changes, how it happens, proof, action
• One visual chosen to carry the argument; everything else deferred
• Docs/Security/Changelog in the nav; pricing path obvious
• Speed budget set; any image must fit it
• Someone owns edits; we update copy before we move pixels

The Bottom Line

That SaaS company wanted a $14K, 6-week carousel redesign with abstract shapes and office plants in soft focus (because nothing says “we solve enterprise problems” like a fiddle leaf fig).

I forced a text-only draft first. Black and white. No decoration.

It exposed the problem: they couldn’t articulate their value proposition. “Transform your workflow” meant nothing. No carousel was going to fix that.

We fixed the words instead: “Cut support tickets 40% in first month.” Added proof with real numbers. One CTA that stated exactly what happens next.

Then added ONE image: their actual dashboard showing ticket decline.

Cost $4,200. Took 5 days. Trial signups went from 1.8% to 4.1%. Bounce rate dropped from 64% to 31%.

Simple isn’t a style. Simple is a refusal — to add, to hedge, to decorate your way out of decisions.

Start with the ‘no images’ draft and make the page win on words and order. Then add the one picture that makes the promise feel inevitable.

That’s SaaS product design that converts, without pretending simplicity is just more white space.