www.rework.one

Oh, Rebecca. REBECCA. You're a UX/UI designer and your hero section has NO call-to-action?! That's like me opening a restaurant and forgetting to put a door on it — people can SEE the food, they just can't bloody GET to it!

Let's start with what's actually working, because I'm not a monster. The opening line — 👋🏼 Hello, Im Rebecca, a UX/UI designer who designs with users in mind and business impact in focus' — is genuinely better than the soggy Creative Visionary nonsense I see on 90% of portfolios. You get the who, the what, and a hint of your philosophy in one breath. That's a well-seasoned sentence. Bravo.

But then! THEN! Instead of following that solid intro with a reason to keep scrolling — a button, a link, even a cheeky arrow pointing downward — you've surrounded it with four decorative circular photos of... the ocean? Some birds? A ferris wheel? What IS this, your holiday scrapbook?! These images communicate NOTHING about your design work, your skills, or why someone should hire you. They're garnish on an empty plate!

Here's what kills me: you've worked with Meta. META! You have 10 testimonials with photos! And yet your hero section mentions NONE of this. You're sitting on a Michelin-star ingredient list and serving a bowl of plain broth. That scrolling ticker — Sociology User Experience Communication Journalism — is trendy, sure, but a first-time visitor has no idea if those are your skills, your degree subjects, or your Wordle guesses from last week.

A recruiter gives you THREE SECONDS. In those three seconds, your hero needs to say: who you are, why you're credible, and what they should do next. Right now it handles the first one and completely fumbles the other two. That's a 33% pass rate. In my kitchen, that gets you sent home.

Right, the copy situation here is like a beautiful restaurant with a menu that only has three items on it and none of them have descriptions. You KNOW there's talent in the kitchen — but the menu is doing absolutely NOTHING to sell it!

The About section bio is your best dish, and I mean that sincerely. My path into UX/UI design started with Sociology at The Chinese University of Hong Kong... I later completed a masters degree in Digital and Interaction Design at Politecnico di Milano' — THAT is storytelling. That's a real arc with real institutions that a hiring manager can verify and respect. And the follow-up — interested in how people behave, how systems influence everyday experiences, and how thoughtful interfaces can make complex services easier to understand — is genuinely beautiful positioning. You're not just a pixel-pusher, you're a THINKER. That line alone is worth more than half the portfolios I've seen.

But then — BLOODY HELL — the skills section! UI/UX Design. Service Design. Branding Design. Data Collection. Transcription. That's not copywriting, Rebecca, that's a SHOPPING LIST! You might as well have written Things I Can Do, Please Hire Me, Thank You. Where are the benefits? Where's the I can save your team from building the wrong thing? Where's the I turned a 47-step government form into something a pensioner could complete in 3 minutes?

228 words across the ENTIRE page. Two hundred and twenty-eight! Your UX/UI subpage has 37 words. Your Visual page has 23. That's not a portfolio, that's a TWEET! You have 10 testimonials with photos gathering dust somewhere — USE THEM! You've worked with Meta — MENTION IT! The project titles — CPII ChatDoc, Anastasia_AI x AR — mean absolutely nothing to anyone who isn't already inside your head. Every project card is a missed opportunity to hook someone with a problem-solution story.

The tone is right. The grammar is clean. The personality is there. But you've given us an amuse-bouche when we need a five-course meal.