Legacy

Existing social products are the wrong shape for this moment. They optimize for growth, re-engagement, and public sharing — exactly what many families do not want when they are raw. Generic cloud drives solve storage but not narrative: a folder of unnamed files is not a legacy.

The product problem became: how do you make contribution easy for relatives who are not tech-savvy, while keeping control in the hands of the people who should have it — and how do you design for decades-long retention without creepy data practices?

The UX prioritizes gentle onboarding, role-aware permissions (who can see vs who can add), and clear consent around voice and likeness. Capture flows favor voice memos, short written prompts, and photo albums with dates and captions — structured enough to search later, loose enough that nobody feels like they are filling out government forms.

Privacy is not a footer bullet: it informs sync strategy, export options, and what is never uploaded. Presentation leans timeless: typography and layout that will not look painfully dated in ten years, because some people will open this app rarely but when it matters enormously.

Accessibility and large type are first-class so older relatives are not excluded from contributing.

Legacy is meant to become the place a family returns to on anniversaries and hard days — not daily engagement, but deep trust. Early feedback has centered on relief: people understand where things live, who can see them, and how to get a copy out if the family’s needs change.

Forward-looking work includes richer export for executors, optional printed artifacts, and guided prompts for people who want help starting a story but do not know what to say.