Eight carousel styles, rendered by the thing that renders them.

The image is doing real work — a product, a place, a person — and the writing is there to caption it. This is the only pack that gives the picture the top of the slide and lets the type sit quietly underneath.

You have no photography worth the space. A lede image slot filled with a stock abstract is worse than a typographic pack, because the layout has committed half the slide to something that says nothing.

The line is short and the point is confrontational. Reversed type at that size stops a thumb, and the scrim means it works over almost any image without a legibility check.

The headline runs long. Oversized type wraps to three lines and the slide becomes a wall, which is the single most common way this pack is misused.

The sentence is the whole asset. Centred and surrounded by air reads as confidence, and it is the pack that survives being screenshotted and reposted, because there is nothing in it that can crop badly.

Your feed is already mostly text. Quiet works by contrast; a whole grid of this reads as a newsletter somebody forgot to design.

You want the post recognisable at thumbnail size before a word is read. The whole page being your signature colour is the strongest recognition device available in a feed, and it costs nothing to produce.

Your signature colour is low-contrast against white type, or you use this for every post. It is a strong move, and a strong move used constantly is wallpaper.

You have more to say than a single line and you do not want to split it across three slides. Two columns take a paragraph without the type collapsing, and the masthead gives the deck a front page.

The point is one sentence. Two columns with four words in them reads as a layout looking for content, and on a phone the second column is a thumb-width strip nobody finishes.

The slide has two or three parts of equal weight — a claim and its proof, a before and an after. Bands give each one the full width instead of ranking them by vertical position.

There is one thing on the slide. A single band with air above and below it is a worse Minimal, and the horizontal division promises a comparison the copy never delivers.

The image is good enough to be looked at but not big enough to survive a full bleed — a product on a plain ground, a detail shot. The inset margin gives it an edge and keeps the crop honest.

The image is a wide scene. Insetting a landscape shrinks it twice, once for the plate and once for the phone, and what arrives is a postage stamp with a coloured border around it.

The deck is a list and the order matters — five mistakes, three steps, seven rules. The numeral tells a scrolling reader where they are without a progress dot, and it gives every slide the same anchor.

The slides are not a sequence. A giant "4" on a slide that is not fourth in anything is a design element pretending to be information, and readers who notice stop trusting the rest of the deck.