A new studio. Not new work.
Jay Costen is a new studio. The work isn’t.
I’ve spent the last eighteen months shipping my own things — PriceScout, a UK price-comparison tool that’s live now; Bytelore, a microlearning subscription; a lead-capture site for a Utility Warehouse partnership. All built solo, all live, all with payment systems, hosting, SSL, the lot. I wanted to know what shipping a real product actually costs in attention before I sold that service to anyone else.
If you want the long version of any of that, there are build notes on PriceScout, Bytelore and Arwyn & The Pack — written after the fact, including the parts where I was wrong.
The first build I’m doing for someone else is a Manchester tattoo and piercing studio — Mr Macabre’s, for Morgan Fevre, my mate. Once that ships, Jay Costen becomes the chapter where I do this for clients too.
How my head works.
I have ADHD, diagnosed. I also strongly suspect I’m autistic — that one isn’t diagnosed and I’m not going to write it down as though it is. What I will say is that I worked as a support worker for adults with severe autism, severe learning disabilities and a range of mental health conditions, so I’m not pattern-matching off a checklist I found at two in the morning. I know what I’m looking at, and I know my own mind.
This studio is built around that rather than in spite of it, and you’re already looking at the evidence. The five-day build isn’t a growth tactic — it’s the honest shape of my attention. I am extremely good for a week, and I wouldn’t trust myself with a six-month engagement, so I sell the week. The prices are published because haggling is the part of this job I find genuinely unbearable; an unresolved number sat in an inbox will cost me a night. There’s no discovery call because I think far better in writing than I do being charming at someone over Zoom, and you get a better answer from the version of me that had twenty minutes to consider it.
None of that is a disclaimer. Most studios design their process around whatever is most profitable to sell. I’ve designed mine around the work I can do brilliantly every single time without pretending to be somebody else — which happens to be the same thing you want, if you’re the one paying for it.
Why Beverley.
I live here. It’s a market town in East Yorkshire, twenty thousand people, a minster, one racecourse, more independent shops than you’d expect. The pace is the right pace for considered work — fast enough that the town has a real economy, slow enough that I can actually think before I write.
Most boutique web studios in the UK are in London, Manchester, Brighton. Being in Beverley is a feature, not a constraint — lower rent, no commute, calmer focus, and a postcode that reads honest. The site will be built here. The wifi will work everywhere else.
Why a new studio.
The honest answer: I’ve always preferred building to advising. After the eighteen months of own-products work I knew two things. One — I can ship a real website in five working days with infrastructure that doesn’t embarrass me. Two — most small businesses in the UK are stuck choosing between a £3,000-and-up agency and a £150 Fiverr template. The middle is empty. Jay Costen is the middle.
The dog.
Arwyn is a cockapoo, still a pup, female, wears a red Viva harness. She’s in the workshop every day. She is a permanent character of this studio, not a marketing prop. If you come over to brief me, you’ll meet her.
What I’m currently doing.
Reading How Buildings Learnby Stewart Brand for the third time. Listening to whatever Marina Herlop’s put out lately. Building Mr Macabre’s website. Drafting the first Site of the Month critique. Walking Arwyn twice a day on the Westwood whether the rain’s on or not.
How to start something with me.
The Startpage has a short brief intake and a Stripe deposit link. If you’d rather talk first, my email is hi@jaycosten.co.uk. No automated funnel, no “book a discovery call.” A person reads your email and a person writes back.
