Everyone deserves a resume that looks as good as their work.

It started with a favor. A friend was applying for a job she really wanted, and she asked me to “make her resume look nice.” I'm a designer, so I did. She got the interview. Then her colleague asked. Then a cousin. Then someone I'd never met, referred by someone else I'd never met.

After the twentieth resume, I noticed two things. First: almost everyone's experience was more impressive than their resume made it look. Great work, buried in cramped Word documents with squeezed margins and six different fonts. Second: the fix was never magic. It was craft: real typographic hierarchy, generous spacing, one restrained accent color, and words tightened until every line earned its place.

That craft shouldn't require knowing a designer. So I turned the templates I'd refined across all those favors into a product anyone can use. That's SkillSheet: the taste is built in, you bring the substance.

We have opinions, and they're in the product. No skill bars: a recruiter can't hire you off “JavaScript: 80%”. No star ratings, no clip-art icons. No fake “100% ATS-proof” promises. Instead, an honest rating on every template so you can choose with open eyes. And AI that polishes your real accomplishments instead of inventing new ones, because a resume is a promise you'll have to keep in the interview.

A resume also shouldn't die in an attachments folder. Yours lives at your own link, always current, ready to drop into a bio or an email signature, with a PDF that matches it to the pixel when paper is required.

Your work is good. Your resume should say so, beautifully.