1. The one-page introduction
Your name, one sentence about what you do, a photograph if you want one, three links, and an email address. That is the whole site. It suits anyone whose work lives somewhere else already, on a platform, in a shop, in published writing.
What goes on it: the sentence, three to five links with a few words each explaining where they go, contact, and a date. Failure mode: padding it out. A one-page site with a fake About section reads worse than a one-page site that stops.
2. The portfolio with case studies
The standard for product, UX and brand designers. A home page with three to six pieces of work, and a page for each that explains the problem, what you did and what happened.
What goes on it: selected work rather than all of it, a real About page, and a contact route. Failure mode: case studies that are process shots with no problem statement. Open every one with a sentence describing what was wrong before you started.
3. The writing-led site
Where the essays are the work. The home page is a list of pieces with dates, and everything else is secondary.
What goes on it: a reverse-chronological index, generous body type, and one line saying who you are. Failure mode: building a magazine layout for eleven posts. This kind of site needs a real content system once the archive grows, so plan for a tool with a blog rather than designing forty pages by hand.
4. The CV site
One page, structured like a document, aimed at people who are deciding whether to interview you. It suits developers, researchers and anyone applying to institutions.
What goes on it: roles with dates, education, selected output, and a downloadable version. Failure mode: designing it like a poster. This is the one kind of personal site where being boring and scannable is the correct answer.
5. The links hub
A single page pointing at everything else you do. It suits people whose audience arrives from social platforms and needs somewhere to land.
What goes on it: six to ten links, each with a short line of context, on your own domain rather than a platform that could disappear. Failure mode: no context. A list of bare logos tells a visitor nothing about which one to click.
6. The freelance service page
Not a portfolio. A page that says what you sell, who it is for, what it costs or how pricing works, and how to start. It suits anyone taking on client work.
What goes on it: the service in plain words, two or three proofs, an honest note on availability, and a single clear next step. Failure mode: hiding the offer behind the word "collaborations". If someone has to guess what to ask you for, they will not ask.
7. The visual index
For photographers, illustrators and anyone whose work is the image. A dense grid, minimal text, and the images doing all the talking.
What goes on it: a tight edit, consistent crops, and images exported properly rather than dumped at full resolution. Failure mode: a slow page. A visual index that takes six seconds to load has already failed at the one thing it does.
8. The project archive
For people with a long tail of things they made. Everything listed, dated, and honest about which ones are dead.
What goes on it: a plain list with years, a line each, and a status. Failure mode: presenting abandoned projects as live. Marking something as finished or dormant makes the whole archive more credible, not less.