Designing a Private, Lightweight App to Remember the People you Meet

Overview

"What is their name again?" my colleague looks at me in panic as a past client of ours walks slowly toward us. My heart dropped, “I don’t know!” and now we both start frantically scanning for a scrap of paper, a note, anything that might have the clients name before we have to face them. That’s when it dawned on me, this wasn’t just our problem. People forget names all the time, even moments after meeting someone.

I mean, without searching for it, I ask you, my dear reader, what’s my name?

If you remember, I’d love the opportunity to study your brain to figure out how! Dale Carnegie once wrote, "A person’s name is, to that person, the sweetest and most important sound in any language." But the reality? Most people forget it. And those forgotten names lead to awkward moments, missed opportunities, and even a little shame.

Problem

So how do you actually remember someone’s name after you meet them? We can’t all have the trick actor Anna Ferris uses in The House Bunny where she says people’s names in a deep voice to help them stick.

Saving someone as a phone contact feels too formal. Are you really going to ask for everyone’s phone number? Following them on Instagram might work, but what happens when you want to find them later and can’t remember their name or handle? And if you scroll through your phone contacts right now, do you honestly remember every single person in there? Even with your Notes app, it’s hit-or-miss.

The truth is, our brains don’t store names alphabetically; they anchor them in context: where we met, what we were doing, how we felt. So how do I begin solving a problem that is so ordinary but so awkward? simple. It begins with research.

Process

I began my research on how to best create this by talking to people between the ages of 20 and 70 about how they remember names, what tricks they use, and how they feel about sharing personal information. I spoke to introverts, extroverts, homebodies, and a teacher who encounters hundreds of students and parents each year and can’t possibly remember them all.

One participant sheepishly mentioned, “It’s so embarrassing when they remember me, but I don’t remember them.” Another laughed and admitted, “I’ll pretend I know who they are until I can sneak away and ask a friend what their name is.”

As I organized sticky notes from these conversations into Figjam, patterns started to emerge.

People almost always remembered the situation before the name. They valued speed and simplicity over elaborate detail. And they needed to feel safe about where their memories were stored.

A competitive analysis of WhatsApp, Instagram, HiHello, and Dex confirmed my hunch: no truly context-driven memory tool existed. Inspired partly by Shazam — an app I’ve used to recall songs I’d already saved — I began sketching a low-fidelity wireframe. The concept was simple: one unified way to add someone new, with context tags and private storage that required no social connection.

This wasn’t a social media app; it was built to help you remember. 
The interface would be clean and distraction-free, asking only two things: add someone to your memory, or search for them later. Everything else could come later.

When I put the first low-fi prototype in front of five users, the flaws surfaced quickly. How exciting! I’d assumed people would pick one method to remember someone, and I was wrong.

Everyone had their own style. One participant tapped the notes and camera option, “If I have a note and a photo I'm done.” Another said, “I want to save the name immediately and where I met them"

It became clear the design had to balance flexibility with simplicity.

Solution

In the high-fidelity version, I introduced a floating action button so people could quickly choose how to save someone. I chose red as the anchor color because it grabs attention — and if users remembered nothing else, they’d remember the name they’d just added.

Typography was bold and clear for names, quiet and unobtrusive everywhere else. The app name and logo came next: Remem — a nod to “remember” and a visual puzzle for the brain to piece together. The logo reinforced the app’s sole purpose: helping you remember people.


Testing this high-fidelity version revealed new insights. Users were pleased with seeing “Recently Added” and instinctively went to the FAB to add someone. However, the number of save options still felt overwhelming. One tester hesitated and said, “Where do I start? I don’t want to overthink it.”

People wanted to see what they’d already added (like a note) while adding more information, rather than having the previous information disappear. Based on this feedback I iterated again. The floating action button was no longer to be remembered. In its place, a single search bar doubled as both search and add. Anything you typed appeared as search results first; if no match was found, you could save it instantly.

Drafts saved automatically. Early user feedback also guided optional integrations: location (most wanted it only while using the app), calendar (split opinions — some lived in Google Calendar, others didn’t), contacts (to cross-check existing names), and camera roll (to link relevant photos).
This shift — from multiple entry points to one seamless search-and-add flow — became the turning point of the design.

Impact

The iterations didn’t just change the interface; they changed the way users felt. People reported less hesitation and more confidence. Location cues sparked moments of recognition, like one participant suddenly remembering, “Oh right, I met her at the coffee shop!”

By stripping away friction and focusing on trust, the design started to deliver on its promise: a lightweight, private, and reliable way to capture human connections.
amless search-and-add flow — became the turning point of the design.

Reflection

Looking back, this project wasn’t just about designing for usability — it was about designing for trust. People will only record what they feel safe recording, and that sense of safety is what keeps them coming back.

If I were to take it forward, I’d build an MVP, run accessibility testing, and expand the Memory Hub into a place where recall becomes a long-term habit instead of a one-off task.

What started as an awkward moment a colleague and I were about to have with someone, turned into a design challenge that, ironically, I’ll always remember.