Hi, I’m Christine.
But most people call me Chris.
I live on the South Coast of South Africa with my four children. Most days are a mix of client work, half-finished cups of tea, muddy footprints through the house, and someone calling me outside to look at a frog or a caterpillar.
I started building websites more than a decade ago after my first child was born, when I realised very quickly that the usual version of work wasn’t going to fit the kind of life I wanted.
I didn’t want to spend most of my time away from my children waiting for evenings and weekends to get my life back.
So I taught myself web design while raising my son at home and started taking on projects wherever I could.
At the time, it was practical. I needed flexible work. But I also loved it. I loved figuring things out, making things beautiful, solving problems, learning new systems, building something from nothing.
And slowly, it became a real business.
Over the years I’ve worked mostly with women, educators, doulas, therapists, coaches, creatives, people doing thoughtful work who often struggle to explain themselves clearly online because their work is nuanced and deeply personal to them.
A lot of the women I work with are already good at what they do.
Their problem usually isn’t the quality of their work.
It’s that they’ve absorbed this idea that succeeding online means becoming a different kind of person. Louder. More visible. Better at marketing. Better on camera. More polished. More certain all the time.
And honestly, I think a lot of online business culture reinforces that pressure constantly.
But most women don’t actually need to reinvent themselves.
They need a website that makes sense. Words that sound like them. A clearer way of bringing all the moving pieces together so people can actually understand what they do and trust them enough to reach out.
That’s the work I do.
My path here wasn’t linear.
I studied English Language and Literature through UNISA, worked in schools, moved through admin and project management roles, and spent time in fast-paced corporate environments before eventually finding my way back to creative work again.
And through all of it, I was always the person people came to when something stopped working.
The printer.
The computer.
The website.
The design issue nobody else could figure out.
I took graphic design in high school, taught myself WordPress years later, and built this business one project at a time while raising children alongside it.
For a long time I felt insecure about being self-taught. Now I see that differently.
It taught me how to solve problems without panicking. How to keep learning. How to communicate clearly with people who feel overwhelmed by tech. And how to build websites that work for actual human beings instead of chasing whatever trend is popular that month.
Over time, my work expanded beyond web design.
I trained as a birth doula, spent years immersed in attachment parenting and Aware Parenting, and became deeply interested in the ways people grow, communicate, heal, and build lives that actually work for them.
That naturally shapes the way I work with clients too.
Because businesses are built by people with children, relationships, responsibilities, financial pressure, self-doubt, changing priorities and very real limits.
A lot of business advice completely ignores that.
I’m not interested in helping women build businesses that require them to constantly override themselves in order to keep up.
These days my work sits somewhere between design, messaging, strategy and support.
Mostly, I help women bring things together.
Their website finally matches the quality of their work. Their offers make sense. Their messaging sounds more natural. People land on their site and actually understand what they do.
Things stop feeling so scattered.
And that changes a lot.
If that sounds like the kind of support you’ve been looking for, I’d love to work together.