A city is more than its shopfronts

Walk down your high street and count what you can see. The café, the bakery, the bookshop, the restaurant with tables outside, the artisan’s workshop. These are the businesses MINOMO has always known how to tell: they have a window, a shutter, an address that sits on a map.

Now look up two floors.

Up there is the lawyer’s practice. Next door, the accountant who sees clients by appointment. Further along the street, inside what used to be a flat, a communications agency with four people in it. And then the photographer working from home, the translator, the labour consultant, the person who edits video for a living and has built an audience that follows them.

None of them has a sign. All of them work, invoice, have clients. And until yesterday, on MINOMO, they had nowhere to be.

From today they do.

Who’s coming in, and why they’re not the same

We’ve opened up to two groups that only look alike from a distance, and we want to keep them apart because their problems are opposite.

Professionals — lawyers, accountants, notaries, labour consultants, business consultants, marketing agencies, web agencies, photographers, technical studios, translators, estate agents — live on being found. Their client doesn’t follow them: they search, at the exact moment something is needed. An accountant’s problem isn’t reaching the people who already know them, it’s existing when somebody types “who can do my tax return”.

Digital creators have the mirror image of that problem. They already have an audience, built over years of work. They just can’t reach it: they publish, and one person in twenty sees the post. To speak to people who explicitly asked to hear from them, they have to pay the platform they brought that audience to in the first place.

Two trades, two different promises. Which is why they get two different pages, rather than a paragraph bolted onto the end of the merchants’ one.

You don’t need a shop

This is the most concrete change, and it applies to both.

On MINOMO the pin on the map used to be compulsory: without coordinates, you didn’t exist. But a consultant working from home, an agency inside a coworking space or a creator filming in their living room have no address to show — and that isn’t a flaw, it’s how they work.

The pin is now optional. The public page stays exactly as it is — contacts, hours, links, socials, content — but you decide whether to appear on the map. If you have a studio where you receive clients, switch it on and they’ll find you there too. If you work from the kitchen table, you stay findable without announcing to the world where that table is.

Billing details — registered address, tax number — stay where they’ve always been: private. They never reach the map and never reach the page.

The rate card: what you do, and what it costs

This is the change that alters your days the most.

Below your description there is now an ordered rate card. Each row has a name, a short explanation and a price. Whoever opens your page understands in three seconds what they can ask you for, without having to write just to find out “how much is it?”.

Price comes in four forms, because real work never fits into one:

FormatExample
Fixed price€80/hour
Starting fromFrom €500
On requestOn request
FreeFree — useful for a first consultation

And the unit is the one you actually use: hour, session, day, month, project, person. A photographer thinks in days, a consultant in hours, a trainer per person. Nobody should have to bend their trade to fit the wrong box.

You can add up to fifteen rows, reorder them by dragging, and hide a seasonal service with a switch instead of deleting it — so in September you turn it back on and it returns to its place.

Next to every row there’s a Request this service button, which opens a message already filled in with the name of that service. You stop receiving the generic “hi, could you send me some information?” and start receiving requests about something specific, which you can answer straight away. And you’ll see how many times each individual row was clicked: it’s the first time you know which of the things you do people actually want, instead of guessing.

There’s a detail that looks small and isn’t: the price translates itself. The number is universal, but “per hour”, “per session”, “on request” are shown in the language of whoever is reading. You don’t have to write your rate card three times for a visitor to understand it.

The «For You» feed is free, and reaches everyone

What you publish — an offer, a piece of news, an event — appears in the feed of the people who follow you. All of them, every time, at no cost and with no limit on how much you publish.

It’s worth pausing on that sentence, because elsewhere it isn’t true. There’s no reach to buy, because there’s no reach to withhold from you. There’s no format-of-the-month to chase, no penalty for including a link, no magic hour to post at. Chronological is chronological.

Push stays the heavy artillery

Then there’s the notification on someone’s phone, which is another thing entirely: it lights up the screen, interrupts dinner, doesn’t wait for somebody to decide to open the app. It’s the only channel that genuinely interrupts, and that’s why it’s pay-as-you-go — a small wallet balance, no subscription, no auto-renewal.

A small price for the people you want to reach — and it’s that price that keeps push for the things that genuinely matter: the launch, the date that moved, the slot that opened up. The feed is there for everything else. If every send were free, within six months MINOMO would become the place of notifications nobody reads. Which is exactly the feed we’re trying to get out of.

MINA finds you. Tourists don’t.

When someone asks MINA — MINOMO’s assistant — for “an accountant nearby” or “a photographer for a wedding”, the AI now shows your card with your contact details, not an address on a map that a professional doesn’t need.

But professionals never enter tourist itineraries. That’s a deliberate choice, written into the data rather than left to common sense: MINA builds routes out of places worth visiting, and a notary is not a stop. It surfaces you when someone is looking for exactly what you do, and stays quiet the rest of the time.

Why the door is narrower

To come in you need a real, verifiable tax registration. We check it, and once it clears, a verified-business badge appears next to your name.

It isn’t red tape, it’s a deliberate choice. Online services are also the home of people who declare themselves experts on Monday and sell a course on Tuesday, with no invoice and nobody to answer for it. We preferred a narrower door and a mark that means something, over a crowded square where anyone can claim to be anyone.

It has a cost, and we’ll say it plainly: whoever is just starting out and isn’t registered yet stays outside for now. That’s the price we pay so the badge is worth something to the people reading it.

What we don’t do

Better said here than discovered later.

We don’t take a cut of your work. The client contacts you and the fee is between the two of you. In exchange, for now, there’s no checkout either: selling directly from the page is a project, not a promise.

We don’t translate your copy. Service names and descriptions stay in the language you write them in. Only prices, units and labels follow the reader.

We don’t give anyone the data of the people who follow you. Not even you: you see how many they are and you reach all of them, but names, emails and numbers never come your way. It’s the pact that makes people follow you without hesitating, and it’s also the reason nobody can buy them from us.

Where to start

We wrote two pages, one per trade, because they deserved two different conversations:

Signing up is free and doesn’t expire. Public page, service rate card, offers, news, events, Atlas profile and the feed to your followers cost nothing, today and tomorrow.

The city you can see from the street is only part of the city. Now there’s room for the other part too.