- PPF Points
- 2,888
When I first slapped together my web dev portfolio, I figured just dumping a handful of random side projects would do the trick. Like, “Look at all my stuff!”—as if that alone would knock the socks off anyone hiring. Spoiler: it didn’t. Turns out, a portfolio isn’t just some messy scrapbook of half-baked code or snazzy UI experiments. It’s gotta tell your story—who you are, what you can actually do, and how you handle problems when stuff gets weird. What really flipped the switch for me was ditching the “more is better” mindset. Seriously, nobody cares about that calculator you built in a weekend unless it actually shows off something special. I started picking my best work—the stuff where I learned something, solved a real problem, or made something actually useful—and went all-in on showing what I did and, honestly, why anyone should give a damn.
Presentation? Oh man, that’s a whole thing by itself. Having a killer project is cool and all, but if you bury it under a clunky interface or a wall of jargon, good luck. What worked for me was writing quick, punchy case studies—like, “Here’s what I built, why I built it, and how I didn’t lose my mind in the process.” Even folks who don’t know a div from a donut could get the gist. Throw in some clean screenshots, a live demo if you can swing it, maybe even a little backstory, and suddenly your portfolio feels less like a dusty attic and more like a cool gallery. Oh, and pro tip? If your portfolio site itself is janky or broken, people will notice. I’ve seen some wild stuff—amazing projects buried under nightmare navigation or links that just straight-up don’t work. That’s an instant nope from me.
And here’s the real kicker: your portfolio should actually reflect where you’re at right now, not the person you were, like, a year ago. It’s way too easy to cling to your old stuff because you’re weirdly proud of it (guilty), but tech moves at warp speed, and what looked fresh last summer might just look cringe today. I make a habit of swapping out old projects, tossing in new skills, and generally keeping things current. The whole thing’s a living, breathing doc—not some fossilized greatest-hits album. So yeah, if you’re staring at your own portfolio, ask yourself: does this actually show who I am today and where I’m headed? Or is it just a museum of past experiments? Big difference.
Presentation? Oh man, that’s a whole thing by itself. Having a killer project is cool and all, but if you bury it under a clunky interface or a wall of jargon, good luck. What worked for me was writing quick, punchy case studies—like, “Here’s what I built, why I built it, and how I didn’t lose my mind in the process.” Even folks who don’t know a div from a donut could get the gist. Throw in some clean screenshots, a live demo if you can swing it, maybe even a little backstory, and suddenly your portfolio feels less like a dusty attic and more like a cool gallery. Oh, and pro tip? If your portfolio site itself is janky or broken, people will notice. I’ve seen some wild stuff—amazing projects buried under nightmare navigation or links that just straight-up don’t work. That’s an instant nope from me.
And here’s the real kicker: your portfolio should actually reflect where you’re at right now, not the person you were, like, a year ago. It’s way too easy to cling to your old stuff because you’re weirdly proud of it (guilty), but tech moves at warp speed, and what looked fresh last summer might just look cringe today. I make a habit of swapping out old projects, tossing in new skills, and generally keeping things current. The whole thing’s a living, breathing doc—not some fossilized greatest-hits album. So yeah, if you’re staring at your own portfolio, ask yourself: does this actually show who I am today and where I’m headed? Or is it just a museum of past experiments? Big difference.
