Designers
Pick your livery.
Airlines call a paint scheme a livery: the same aircraft, new colours. That is exactly what a pack is — one real page, a different palette, and content that has not shifted an inch.
What a pack is
Data, not code.
A pack is a short list of decisions: which colour does which job, which lettering to use in light and in dark, and a handful of named parts to adjust. Goose writes the stylesheet from that list — which is why a pack cannot break a page, cannot reach a visitor's data, and cannot switch off the focus outlines or the reduced-motion setting underneath it.
You write values, never code
A colour is a role name or a hex. A size is a number and a unit from a fixed list. Goose rebuilds the stylesheet from those values instead of pasting your text into one, so there is nothing to slip past it and nothing to break.
You name a part, not a class
A pack says card, not some class out of a stylesheet you did not write. So it can never lean on how one look happens to be built, or paint something it was not offered.
A readability floor it cannot cross
Text and the ground it sits on are checked for contrast before a pack is accepted. A pack is the one thing that can repaint both in a single breath, and nothing else would put the legibility back.
It sits on a look, not instead of one
The look underneath still does all the work. That is why six colours re-skin a whole page, and why the same pack reads differently over one look than over another.
Four packs, nineteen looks
The house packs.
These four were written in-house, through the same checks a submitted pack will face. Each set of swatches below is that pack's own palette.
Risograph
Newsprint, navy and fluoro pink. It keeps whatever lettering the look already uses, so it reads differently over a Playfair site than over a Garamond one.
Blueprint
Drafting paper and process blue. The one pack cut to dress all five kinds of site, so it only touches what every one of them has.
Nightshift
Dark only, lime on near-black. Put it over a look printed on pale paper stock and the page goes dark, rather than rendering nothing.
Herbarium
Pressed paper and a field green. It replaces both typefaces, to show the half Risograph deliberately leaves alone.
The program
A first cohort, by invitation.
Submissions are not open, there is no marketplace, and nobody is paid per install. What exists is an invitation to a first handful of designers: write packs through the same checks the house packs pass, and be credited wherever the pack appears.
Credit, already carried
Your name, your licence and your version travel with the pack. Showing them in the picker and on this page is a small change, and the first one the program makes.
A gallery on real content
Every look and pack rendered against captured pages from real sites, with one page you can flip between packs. The captures exist; the gallery does not.
Open submissions
The checks are written and the house packs go through them. What is missing is everything around them: a way to send one in, a review, and terms.
Anything you can buy
There is no price on a look and no way to pay for one. Until there is, this page sells nothing, and says so rather than taking a deposit on an intention.
First cohort
Paint the fleet.
If you design for the web and the idea of one short list of colours re-skinning nineteen looks appeals to you, write and say so.
One email. A person reads every letter.