Out in the open
A home page that shows the work instead of describing it, a site a search engine can finally read.
The product, shown.
Until today the home page described the work in sentences and the site was invisible to search in nine of its ten languages. The page now argues in drawings — an exploded storefront in the hero, four more below it — and every public page has a language in its own address, so the translations exist as far as a search engine is concerned.
- FixedThe file count on the home page is counted now, not typed. The number the compiler animation lands on had been written into the animation itself and was one behind the theme. It reads the real count instead, in however many digits that takes, and a test renders the page in all ten languages and fails if any number printed on it disagrees with what a compile actually produces.
- NewEvery theme now describes itself in structured data. A product page declares the whole product and each of its variants — price, currency, availability, condition, colour, size, material, barcode — rather than only the one a shopper happens to have selected, so an agent reading the page sees the entire range at once. Collections list their products in order, articles carry their author and date, breadcrumbs say where a page sits, and the shop itself declares its name, logo and search. JSON-LD throughout, not microdata, which is what Shopify asks for. It matters more each month: AI agents now buy through Shop Pay, and they read fields, not beautiful pages.
- NewA status page that checks rather than claims. Five things are tested every minute and the results kept for thirty days: the app, the database, Shopify, email, and the compiler — which does not ping anything but compiles a whole theme from scratch and counts the files, because if it cannot produce one, nothing else is worth reporting. Shopify and email are read from their own public status pages, so their outage shows as theirs. Every check is drawn as a bar you can hover for its moment and its latency, and the footer of every page carries the current state as a link rather than a decorative green dot.
- NewThe home page shows the product instead of describing it. Four drawings, each one moving: a single design fanning out into three storefronts that share a catalogue and agree on nothing else; a client’s logo giving up its colours to a palette and a type pairing; the round trip of a theme going out, being rewritten by the merchant and coming back with their words intact; and the stationery the design carries on into. Drawn in SVG with plain keyframes — no animation library, nothing to download — and every one of them stops moving for anyone who asks their system not to animate.
- NewThe hero holds an exploded view of a storefront. Five planes float apart in the air, each carrying one part of the page — the header, the hero, the products, the footer, and the layout grid they all sit on — and each labelled with the file it compiles to. Every few seconds they settle back together and the parts land as one finished page. It is the whole argument in a single drawing: what looks like a storefront is a stack of files, and the merchant keeps every one of them.
- NewA store can be disconnected, and disconnecting means it. The button sits on the store’s own page, for owners and admins. It removes EverStorefront from that store’s Shopify admin, then erases everything held for it — catalogue, words, project links, delivery history. Themes already in the store are left exactly where they are, because they are the merchant’s files and not ours. The app being genuinely uninstalled is the point: connecting the store again asks its owner for permission from the beginning, instead of passing silently on a grant given months earlier.
- NewThe public site can be found. Every page now has a language in its address — /de/changelog, /ja/docs — because language used to be a cookie, one URL served all ten, and a search engine sends no cookie and asks in English. Nine translations were invisible. Each page carries a description, a canonical address, alternates for all ten languages, and the cards that make a shared link look like something. The home page describes itself in structured data. There is a robots file and a sitemap that lists every page with its ten languages beside it. Everything behind a sign-in asks not to be indexed at all, and the language menu is now real links you can share rather than a button that quietly sets a cookie.
Nothing of that kind in this release.