How Stu builds a website in 14 days flat
Stu
•12 June 2026
•8 min read
G’day. If I had a dollar for every time someone told me a good website takes six months, I’d have retired to a beach shack years ago. The truth? A cracking site rolls off my lot in a fortnight — and no, I’m not cutting corners to do it. Here’s exactly how the sausage gets made.
Day 1–2: The chinwag
Before a single pixel gets laid, we have a proper yarn. What does your business actually do? Who are your punters? What’s the one thing you want them to do when they land on the page — ring ya, book ya, buy off ya? Get that right and the rest builds itself.
I don’t hand you a 40-page questionnaire full of jargon. We just talk, like humans. I take notes, you drink the tea. Easy.
A website with no goal is just an expensive brochure nobody reads.
Day 3–5: The blueprint
Now I sketch the whole thing out — what goes where, in what order, on every screen size. We nail the structure before we worry about the pretty stuff. Think of it like a chassis: get the bones right and she’ll drive straight for years.
- Homepage: the shopfront — who you are and why they should care, in five seconds flat.
- The goods: your services or products, laid out so a punter can find what they need without a map.
- Proof: reviews, results, a face or two. People buy from people.
- The ask: a dead-obvious way to get in touch or buy. No hunting.
Why the order matters
Folks read a page top to bottom like a set of road signs. Put the important stuff first, and don’t make ’em scroll to Woop Woop to find your phone number.
Stu’s Tip
Squint at your homepage from across the room. If you can’t tell what the business does in three seconds, she needs another coat of paint. Simple as.
Day 6–10: The build & the paint job
This is where my crew earns their smoko. We build the site proper — clean code under the bonnet, a design that matches your brand, and content that actually sounds like you and not a robot. Every page gets checked on a phone, a tablet and a big desktop screen.
And yeah — it’s 2026, so we’ve got AI in the toolbox alongside the wrench and the paintbrush. We’ll happily let it do the boring donkey work — first drafts, tidying photos, wrangling code — so my crew spends its time on the bits that actually need a human with taste. The robot holds the torch; Stu still turns the spanner.
We hook up the CMS too, so you can change your words, prices and pictures whenever you like — no ringing me every time you want to fix a typo. It’s your motor; you should be able to drive it.
Day 11–12: The once-over
Every site gets a full inspection before it leaves the yard. Broken links, wonky spacing, slow-loading pictures, dodgy spelling — we hunt the lot down. If it’s not something I’d put my own name on, it doesn’t go live. That’s the no-lemons guarantee in action.
Day 13–14: Keys in hand
We flick the switch, point your web address at the new site, and make sure Google knows she exists. Then I walk you round the block — show you how to update it, where everything lives, how to read your visitor numbers. You drive off knowing your motor inside out.
Fourteen days. One careful owner. No lemons. That’s the Stu way — and it’s been the Stu way since I hand-coded my first site back in 1993.
Ready to get yours built?
Come have a squiz at the lot, or just give us a bell for a no-pressure chinwag. The kettle’s always on.
Stu
Stu’s been flogging honest, hand-built websites since he coded his first one as a teenager. One careful owner, no lemons, and a fair price every time. Ask him anything; he loves a chinwag.
