Page Hundred began with a question a grandfather asked at a kitchen table: why is every personalised book just my grandson's name pasted over someone else's story? We're building the answer — a book that actually looks like the child you love, tells the story only you can tell, and is made with the care a keepsake deserves.
Six principles we write on the wall of the workshop. Everything we ship is measured against them.
They aren't a name in a mail-merge. Their likeness, their details, their world. If the book doesn't feel unmistakably theirs, we haven't finished making it.
You tell us the moment worth keeping. We render it — we never invent a story about a child we don't know.
You see the cover and sample pages before any card is charged. If it isn't right, you walk away with your money intact.
Children's photos are encrypted, used once, and deleted the day the book ships. We keep a stylised reference — never the real face.
Every spread is reviewed by an editor before it's printed. An AI that can't count fingers isn't printing a keepsake on our watch.
Hardcover boards, silk paper, proper binding. We'd rather print fewer books on better stock than more on worse.
We're new. That's part of the promise — nothing about how we make books is locked in because a factory has to keep churning them out.
Founded in London by a team of parents, grandparents, engineers and illustrators. We wrote the first brief for what a better personalised book could look like and drafted our privacy rules before we drafted our pricing.
Five art styles, six flow steps, one print partner. A dozen friends became our first readers — and our toughest editors.
We're inviting the first 500 families to make a book. If you'd like to be one of them, the waitlist is open — no payment, no obligation, no hype-marketing from us.
First books leave the press. Every early order arrives with a hand-numbered slip from Vol. I — a small thank you for trusting us this early.
A small team. More hires as we grow — always with the same test: would you trust them with the photo of your child?
Every decision is tested by someone who'd actually give this book to a child they love. Nothing ships if a parent on the team wouldn't keep it.
We train our styles with working children's-book illustrators. The AI proposes; a human eye approves. Credit on the spine.
Behind the scenes: careful plumbing between model, editor, and press. Boring where it needs to be, so the book on the shelf can be magical.
One letter a month, written by hand. Early access, behind-the-scenes notes, and the invite when we open.