
Rosewood
Deep red and cream, with roses and a handwritten feel. The warm one.
Create a personalised birthday website for your best friend with your photos, your memories, a letter and one private link.
They type a four digit code only the two of you would ever guess, and years of it opens up.
Start for free. No coding and no hosting. You pay once, at the end.

You have thousands of photos of this person. Whole camera rolls of terrible ones. Jokes that stopped making sense to anybody else years ago.
And every birthday it comes out as the same message at 12:01 and a story that disappears by lunchtime. A page is simply the right size for a friendship this old.
WishCrane makes that page. You bring the photos and the words, and there is nothing else to work out.
A birthday gift for your best friend built out of the photos only you two have.
Fill it with the photos, the in-jokes and the sincere bit you never say out loud.
One private link at midnight, and they go through it properly instead of scrolling past.
Stories vanish in a day. The website is still there to send back to you in three years.
You pick the photos and write it. WishCrane does the building.
Everything a card is too small to hold.
It stays shut until they type a four digit code you picked. The year you met, a flight number, four digits that mean something only to you two.
Candles they put out themselves, on their own screen, before the rest appears. Daft, and the first thing they will send you a voice note about.
The pictures you dig out fill a polaroid stack, an album with pages that turn, and the lock screen frame. The bad ones work best here.
The sincere one. The thing friends usually only say at weddings, sealed until they tap it open.
Short lines about them. Half can be the running jokes. The other half is the part that actually gets them.
A real page at a real address, still there when you have both forgotten half of what is in it.
No account to make, no app to download, nothing to install.
Two of them. Rosewood is deep red and warm. Aurora is night blue with northern lights and snow. Open both and pick whichever is more them.
Five to twelve pictures, a letter and the reasons. Nothing starts empty, so you are rewriting rather than inventing.
Pay once and your website goes live. Your private link arrives by email, ready to send at midnight like you always do.
Both are live and working. Open one, try the code on the hint, and go through the whole thing.

Deep red and cream, with roses and a handwritten feel. The warm one.

Night blue skies, northern lights and falling snow. The dreamy one.
One payment, made at the end. There is no subscription and nothing renews.
One birthday website
$3.99$12.99
One-time payment. No subscription.
Start for free. You only pay once the page is finished and you are happy with it.
Not at all. The designs are written for birthdays rather than for romance, and you can rewrite every line, so a page for a friend reads exactly how you want it to.
No. There is nothing to install, no hosting to sort out and no account to create. You fill in a form and the page is built for you.
About ten minutes if the photos are on the device you are already using. Narrowing the camera roll down is genuinely the hardest part.
Each page has its own private link and is protected by your four digit code. Pages are not listed publicly and are kept out of search results.
Between five and twelve, spread across the polaroid stack, the album and the lock screen. Swap any of them right up until you send it.
You get an edit link by email and 24 hours to change whatever you want. It updates on the link they already have.
No. One payment, no subscription and no renewal. They can open it again on their next birthday.
Ten minutes now, and they get something better than a story that vanishes by lunchtime.