Write It for the Recommender: A Plain-Spoken Referral Page
There is a strange gap on a lot of creative sites. The contact page says 'get in touch'. The services page says what you do. The portfolio shows the work. But nothing on the site helps the person who wants to recommend you.
That person is not usually a buyer. They are a colleague, a former client, a friend from a studio, someone who has seen you do good work and wants to pass your name along. They are on your side. And yet most sites leave them to improvise.
A referral page is a small fix for that. It is not a referral scheme, an affiliate programme, or a cheesy 'recommend a friend' incentive. It is a handover note for people who already rate you and want to explain why to someone else.
The moment a recommendation stalls
Picture the scene. A friendly message lands: 'You should speak to Andrew about this.' Then the conversation moves on. The person recommending you has good intentions but no useful details to hand. They know you are good, but they cannot remember exactly what you want to be hired for, what size of project suits you, or whether you work with small arts organisations or big retail brands.
So they say something vague. 'He does websites and stuff.' Or they send a link and hope for the best. Sometimes they mean to follow up and never do.
That is not a failure of goodwill. It is a missing piece of information. A referral page gives the recommender a place to point at, and a few sentences they can borrow without feeling like they are doing your sales job for you.
Call it a handover note, not a campaign
The tone matters here. British creative culture is not short on people who would rather chew their own arm off than appear pushy. A referral page should feel like a quiet practical thing, not a growth-hacking funnel.
I would put it somewhere findable but not shouty: a link in the footer called 'For recommenders', or a page at /recommend that you mention on the contact page. It does not need to be in the main navigation. It is for the person who is already looking for a way to help.
Think of it as the note you would scribble for a mate before they introduce you to someone. Clear, specific, a bit self-aware, and short enough to read on a phone.
Start with who you are for
One sentence. Not a mission statement.
For example: 'I work with small UK publishers and cultural organisations that need editorial design, print covers and a calm pair of hands on tight timelines.' That tells the recommender two things at once: the kind of client, and the kind of work.
It also helps to say who you are not for. This is not about being negative. It is about saving everyone time. 'I am probably not the right fit for a 48-hour rush job or a project with no named decision-maker.' A line like that makes the recommender's job easier, because they can rule you out before anyone wastes a meeting.
Name the projects you actually want
A short list beats a long menu. Three or four bullets is plenty. Use plain nouns: a website refresh, a six-week brand sprint, a quarterly print magazine, a one-day portfolio review. If you have a minimum budget or a typical project size, say it here rather than hiding it.
This is not the same as a full pricing page. It is a boundary note. 'Most of my project work sits between £3k and £12k' is useful information for someone who is about to make an introduction. It saves the awkward bit later.
Give them words they can copy
This is the heart of the page. Write a three-sentence introduction that a recommender can paste into an email or say on a call. Keep it human and specific.
For example: 'Andrew is a designer who helps small publishers and arts organisations make print and digital work that feels considered rather than corporate. He is good when you have a clear idea but need help shaping it, and he is used to working with small teams who need someone to just get on with it. His site is at andrewbradley.co.uk if you want to see the sort of thing he does.'
That is not a slogan. It is a useful slice of language. The recommender can trim it, adapt it, or read it out loud without sounding like they have swallowed a brochure.
Say what to send, and what not to
A good introduction has context, a named person, a rough timeline, and some sense of budget. Ask for those four things. You can put them in a short list: 'If you are making an introduction, it helps if the email includes who the project is for, what decision needs making, when they need it, and what ballpark they have in mind.'
Then say what not to send. Not to be difficult — just to keep things clean. 'Please don't send me a 40-page brief before we have spoken.' 'I do not need an NDA before a first chat.' 'A vague opportunity with no budget is hard to respond to.' These lines are a kindness to everyone involved, especially the person in the middle.
Keep it current
A referral page is only useful if it is true. Date it at the bottom. Review it every few months. Remove the service you no longer offer. Update the project size. Change the sentence about who you are for if your work has moved on.
A stale referral page is worse than none, because it sends people out with the wrong words. A dated line like 'Last updated: November 2026' is a small signal that you are paying attention.
The quiet benefit
You are not trying to turn friends into salespeople. You are trying to make it easy for them to be helpful. That is a different thing, and it reads better.
A referral page also does something for you: it forces you to say, in plain language, what you want more of. That clarity tends to leak into the rest of the site. The contact page gets sharper. The services page stops waffling. The whole thing feels a bit more like a person and a bit less like a holding page.
If you have ever received a lovely, well-meaning introduction that went nowhere because nobody quite knew what to do next, this page is for that moment. Write it once. Keep it short. Let your allies do the rest.
