Here’s what a supplier usually gives you: a part number, a size, sometimes a material, and a photo taken in bad light. From that, you’re supposed to build a product page a customer trusts enough to buy from. I’ve written hundreds of descriptions from exactly this starting point, and I have a system.
Start with the buyer’s question, not the product
Every product answers a question. A stainless steel prep table answers “will this survive my kitchen?” A wholesale case of towels answers “what am I actually getting per unit?” Before writing, I decide what the one question is. The first sentence answers it. Everything else supports it.
Mine what you do have
There’s almost always more information than it seems. The part number often encodes size or color. The manufacturer usually has a spec sheet somewhere, even if the wholesaler didn’t send it. The photo, zoomed in, tells you about seams, ports, closures, finishes.
- Manufacturer spec sheets, even for a similar model in the same line
- What buyers of similar products complain about in reviews elsewhere
- The category the store owner put it in — that tells you who it’s for
- The price point, which tells you whether to write premium or practical
A structure that always works
One short paragraph that says what it is and who it’s for. A handful of spec bullets, always in the same order across the whole store so buyers can compare. One line about what’s in the box or how it ships. Done. Nobody reads five paragraphs about a towel.
The part people skip: write the specs as a table of facts, not adjectives. “Heavy duty” means nothing. “18-gauge steel” means something. If I only have adjectives, that’s my signal to go dig for one more fact.
And when there’s truly nothing? I write short and honest. A tight two-sentence description beats three paragraphs of invented fluff, because customers can smell the fluff, and search engines rank the whole store, not just one padded page.
