My first guarantee: when you finish this article, you will know how much it costs to design and build a website.
If you've landed here, I'm going to take a wild guess: you've already Googled "how much does a website cost," and the internet served you up its single most useless answer: "anywhere from £500 to £50,000!" Brilliant. Cheers for that. Really cleared things up. (I design and build these things for a living, so trust me, that's the pricing equivalent of "how long is a piece of string?")
Here's the thing nobody in this industry likes to say out loud: most design studios won't tell you their prices. You'll scroll through a gorgeous portfolio, get to the bit where you'd quite reasonably like to know what any of it costs, and instead find a cheerful little button that says "Let's chat!" or "Book a discovery call." Translation: we'd much rather get you on the phone and charm you before we frighten you with a number.
We're guilty of doing exactly the same thing at Drool, and we've decided it's time to stop.
Partly it's because every website really is different, and a one-size price would be a lie. Fair enough. But mostly it's tactics. A number on a page is a number you can compare, and a number you can compare is a number that might make you click away. Keep it vague, get you talking, build the rapport, then reveal the cost once you're emotionally invested. It's a sales funnel dressed up as friendliness.
And, if I'm honest, it cuts both ways. In my experience the secrecy isn't just coming from our side of the table. Clients are just as cagey, and I reckon I know why: nobody wants to say their budget out loud for fear that the quote will magically rise to meet it. You tell a studio you've got £10k, and funny how the job suddenly costs… about £10k. So everyone ends up doing this awkward little dance, both sides hiding their cards, and the whole thing takes three meetings longer than it needs to. That's just my read on it, mind, but I doubt I'm the only one who's felt it.
The problem is it leaves you, the person actually trying to budget for a thing, completely in the dark. So instead of hiding the ball, let's do the radical thing and explain what actually moves the number. Funnily enough, these are the exact questions you'd get asked by any honest studio. We've just put them in writing and applied our own costs, which is now saving us a huge amount of time when negotiating with clients.
One honest note: building the site is a one-off, but a website is a bit like a gym membership, in that the spending doesn't fully stop after you sign up. You'll have a domain to register, hosting to pay for, and the occasional bit of upkeep to keep everything secure and not-broken. None of it is scary, but pretend it doesn't exist and you'll get a nasty little surprise in year two.
Right, here's where we put our money where our mouth is. Instead of making you book a call and wait three days, we built our own quote tool. You answer the same questions we just walked through (pages, template or bespoke, the fancy bits, the clever bits) and it gives you an instant, itemised estimate. Not a vague range. An actual breakdown: subtotal, VAT, grand total, emailed straight over. No awkward sales call required.
It takes about two minutes, and it costs you nothing but the crushing realisation that you probably can afford this after all.
And while you're in there: it doesn't just price up websites. Need an app, some branding, or a stack of graphic design? It does all of that too. Our brand identity packages start at £2,000 for the entry-level option, which, because we are very normal and serious people, is called Glow Up! (It goes up through Slay and tops out at Bombastic. We regret nothing.)
So there it is. Your website doesn't have to cost a kidney, and finding out what it will cost shouldn't cost you an afternoon either.