Hey Holy has a genuinely differentiated product and a smart conversion mechanic (the breed-specific food advisor quiz), but the page is structured as if the visitor already knows why they should stay. The hero — the highest-attention zone on the page — is a visual carousel with no copy, which means the brand proposition is invisible at the exact moment it matters most.
The most persuasive content (statistics, founder story, direct competitor comparison) is buried at scroll depths where fewer than 35% of visitors arrive.
- The breed-specific USP is a real differentiator — not a generic claim, and it immediately justifies premium pricing for the right buyer.
- The "30 Tage Geld-zurück-Garantie" in the announcement bar is an above-fold anxiety signal that addresses risk before the visitor has even started reading.
- The food advisor quiz is the right conversion mechanic for a high-complexity category — it reduces decision paralysis and creates a personalised entry point.
- The hero communicates nothing: 7 slides, no headline, no reason to stay.
- The page's persuasion story runs backwards — problem framing and proof arrive after most visitors have already left.
- Shipping cost transparency is zero on the homepage, which creates a hidden barrier before the visitor even starts the quiz funnel.
Julia adopted a Border Collie named Finn two years ago. In the first year she fed him a well-known supermarket brand — the same thing she'd seen her parents give their dog. Then the digestive issues started: loose stool twice a week, occasional skin irritation around the snout. Her vet said it was "probably the food" and recommended something "breed-appropriate and highly digestible." She's since tried two other premium brands. One helped marginally; the other made things worse.
She finds Hey Holy via an Instagram ad or a "Futter Border Collie empfindlicher Magen" Google search. She's done this before. She is not a first-time dog food buyer looking for reassurance — she's a repeat buyer who has already been burned and is now sceptical.
Julia is mid-research. She has two or three browser tabs open. She's comparing ingredients lists and reading Reddit threads about Border Collie digestion. She will not impulse-buy. She will, however, commit if something makes the decision feel certain rather than just probable.
The moment a page names her specific problem — not "premium dog food" generically, but "dogs with sensitive stomachs" or "Border Collies" specifically — she feels recognised. That recognition is what earns the next 60 seconds of attention.
She goes back to Zooplus and picks another brand she hasn't tried yet. Or she asks her vet for a prescription food. Or she gives up for now and reorders what she's currently using.
Julia needs to feel certain, not just persuaded. She reads ingredient lists and can tell the difference between a marketing claim and a nutritional argument. What will move her is evidence she can't easily dismiss: a real statistic ("94% of dogs showed improved digestion within 4 weeks"), a founder who solved this for their own dog, a direct comparison against what she's using now. She's willing to pay a premium if the logic is sound. She is not moved by "quality you can trust" — she's moved by specificity.
- 1.Is this actually formulated for Border Collies or is "rassenspezifisch" just marketing language?
- 2.What happens if Finn doesn't like it — can I return it without a fight?
- 3.What does it cost per month, and is there a subscription option?
- 4.Who is behind this brand — is this a dropshipper or do they actually know dog nutrition?
- 5.How long before I see a difference?
- 1.I spend €60 on a month's supply and Finn still has the same stomach issues.
- 2.The "breed-specific" claim is a packaging gimmick — the actual formula is the same as everything else.
- 3.The return process will be difficult and I'll be stuck with food a dog won't eat.
Julia lands on the page. The first thing she reads is the announcement bar: "30 Tage Geld-zurück-Garantie / Neu: jetzt 20% für Sparplan." The returns guarantee immediately neutralises one of her top fears — she registers it, even if she doesn't consciously note it. This is the page working correctly. The nav presents a full menu: product categories, About, Blog, loyalty program, referral, FAQs — and a small text CTA: "Finde dein perfektes Futter / Futterberatung starten." Julia's eye skips over the nav almost entirely. Nav text at 12–14px doesn't compete with a hero image. The quiz entry point is already invisible.
Julia hits the hero. It's a 7-slide visual carousel. She sees a dog. She sees colour. She does not see a headline. She does not see what this brand does, who it's for, or why she should read further. She is at the highest-attention moment the page will ever get, and the page says nothing. The 5-second test fails completely. After 5 seconds Julia knows Hey Holy sells dog-related products and has a purple brand colour. She does not know it sells breed-specific food, that it addresses sensitive digestion, or that there's a quiz that can find Finn's perfect food in two minutes. This is the single most expensive conversion failure on the page.
Julia scrolls. The USP rotator arrives. She reads "RASSENSPEZIFISCH." — and this is the first moment the page actually earns attention. If she has a Border Collie and has been told to find breed-appropriate food, this single word does more work than anything in the hero. But the rotator cycles through three slides. She likely only sees the first. "HOCHVERTRÄGLICH" — the word that would resonate most with her specific situation (digestive issues) — may never appear in her session. The USP rotator is doing important work in the wrong format.
The product cards arrive. Julia can see breed-specific options — this is the promise beginning to materialise. But she can't see prices. She can't add anything to cart. She's looking at product cards without the information she needs to evaluate them. This section creates curiosity but offers no way to resolve it. She's being invited to want something without being given the means to act.
Julia reaches the reviews. Two horizontal carousels side-by-side, labels like "Genau Richtig," "Schnelle Hilfe," "Beste Entscheidung." This is meaningful social proof arriving at a reasonable scroll depth — roughly 65–70% of desktop visitors make it here. The side-by-side carousel layout creates mild friction: two moving elements in the same zone split attention. The labels read as editorial summaries rather than authentic buyer voices. Julia is looking for someone who sounds like her: a dog owner with a sensitive dog who tried this and saw results. That story may exist in these reviews, but the format doesn't surface it.
Julia sees logos. She doesn't know which publications these are without reading small text. Press logos as trust signals require the visitor to recognise the publication — a regional German petfood magazine may mean nothing to her. This section passes without impact.
A social impact message — each purchase contributes to something. For Julia, this is a mild positive but it's not a purchase driver. It also creates a brief cognitive interrupt: she arrived to solve Finn's stomach problem; she's now reading about charitable giving. The page is pulling her sideways.
This section contains exactly what Julia needs: scientific backing, ingredient rationale, breed-specific nutrition logic. But it's text-heavy and delivered in a slider. Julia — who reads ingredient lists — will engage here if she gets here. The problem is that scroll depth by this point is dropping toward 50%. Half the audience has already left.
A direct competitor comparison — one of the strongest conversion tools on the page. This directly addresses the "why not just buy XYZ" question that Julia is almost certainly asking. But it sits at roughly 45–55% desktop reach. Most of the visitors who needed this argument have already bounced.
These sections contain the most psychologically compelling material on the page: the founder origin story ("Hätten wir früher gewusst…") is the kind of human narrative that converts sceptical buyers into advocates. The problem framing ("Leider die Realität im Futtermarkt") directly validates the frustration Julia has carried through two failed brand switches. The statistics block ("HEY HOLY LIEFERT ECHTE ERGEBNISSE" — 94%, 89%, 43%) is hard proof that the product works. All of this arrives below 35% scroll depth. Julia will never read it. The page has structured its most convincing arguments as a reward for visitors who were already going to buy.
The quiz CTA reappears for the fourth time — in the navigation, hero area, sticky bar, and now here at the bottom. The headline "Noch nicht das richtige Futter gefunden?" is framed as a consolation prize: "If you still haven't figured it out, here's a quiz." At the top of the page, this should be an invitation. Here, it reads as a last resort.
Both are at very low reach and serve retention/support functions, not acquisition. No conversion impact for first-time visitors.
The 7-slide hero is a full-bleed visual with no headline. Every visitor arrives here; almost none learn why they should stay. This isn't a design problem — it's an architecture problem. The brand's most important moment is silent.
Add a hero overlay with one specific headline ("Das erste Futter, das auf deine Hunderasse abgestimmt ist."), one supporting line ("Entwickelt für die speziellen Bedürfnisse deiner Rasse. Jetzt kostenlos beraten lassen."), and a single dominant CTA button: "Futter für meinen Hund finden" — large, high contrast, thumb-reachable. The quiz CTA should be the visual destination of the entire hero, not a nav link beside it.
"Futterberatung starten" is the right mechanism for this product category — high purchase complexity, many SKUs, breed-specific advice. But it is currently a small text link in the navigation. No visitor who scrolls the hero, registers the USP rotator, and glances at the product slider has been given a compelling reason to start the quiz. The quiz has no promise, no benefit framing, no visual weight.
The quiz CTA in the hero needs a benefit promise, not just a label. Replace "Futterberatung starten" with "Welches Futter passt zu [deiner Rasse]? In 2 Minuten herausfinden." Pair with a breed-selector input field directly in the hero (enter breed → starts quiz) if technically feasible — this reduces the click barrier from "I'll think about this" to "I'm already doing it."
Julia is a repeat buyer who has been burned before. She is mentally calculating total cost of ownership before she clicks anything. The homepage gives her no data point on shipping cost or delivery time. This creates a hesitation that has no visible trigger — she just doesn't take the next step.
Add delivery terms to the announcement bar: "Kostenloser Versand ab [X]€ · Lieferung in 2–3 Werktagen" — same line as the returns guarantee. Two trust signals at once, both above the fold, zero scroll required.
The page is currently structured: visuals → USPs → products → proof → story → argument. It should be: headline + USP → credibility signal → proof → argument → products → action. The page's most compelling content — the founder story, problem validation, competitive comparison, and outcome statistics — sits below 35–50% scroll depth. The content that could convert a sceptical, comparison-shopping buyer like Julia is only seen by the visitors who were already going to buy anyway.
Restructure the above-the-fold-to-midpage content: Move the statistics block (94%, 89%, 43%) to section 3 position, directly below the product slider. Move the comparison table to section 5 position, replacing the anonymous press logo row. Condense the founder story to a 2-sentence pull quote and place it next to or above the testimonials. The problem framing / solution pitch sections can stay lower, but the key data points from them should be surfaced earlier.
The testimonials are at a reasonable scroll depth but the format undermines their credibility. Editorial labels ("Beste Entscheidung") summarise the reviews rather than let the buyer's voice through. Julia — who is sceptical — will trust a review that names the dog's breed and the specific problem solved over a general 5-star card.
Feature 3–4 testimonials in static layout (not carousel) that include: buyer name, dog breed, specific problem ("Finn hatte chronische Magenbeschwerden"), and specific outcome ("Seit 3 Wochen keine Probleme mehr"). Place these directly below the hero or above the product slider — not at section 4 depth.
"HOCHVERTRÄGLICH" is the USP that most directly addresses Julia's decision criteria (sensitive digestion). It's the second slide in a 3-slide rotator. A significant portion of visitors will never see it.
Display all three USPs simultaneously as a static row: "Rassenspezifisch · Hochverträglich · Lecker" — with a one-line explanation under each. The rotator format is a missed opportunity to communicate three strong claims in one view.
The homepage has 10+ nav links including blog, loyalty programme, referral programme, and career page. Each link is an exit path. For a homepage where the primary goal is to get a new visitor into the quiz funnel, this many exit options creates unnecessary attrition.
On the homepage specifically, consider reducing the visible nav to product categories + quiz CTA + hamburger for the rest. The loyalty and referral programmes are valuable for existing customers — they don't belong in the primary nav of a first-visit acquisition page. Alternatively, visually differentiate the quiz CTA as a button (not text link) so it clearly outweighs the nav links.
The "30 Tage Geld-zurück-Garantie" in the announcement bar is correctly placed and correctly phrased. Returns language above the fold is a proven anxiety reducer; it is doing its job.
The food advisor quiz mechanic itself is the right strategic choice for a breed-specific, multi-SKU product with high purchase complexity. The quiz is not the problem — its positioning and visual weight are. The underlying mechanism should not be replaced.
The breed-specific positioning is genuinely differentiated and price-justifying. The page should lean into it harder and earlier, not pivot away from it.