Coming to iPhone
Memlane remembers your life so you don’t have to.
Your phone already holds the record — the photographs, the places, the people, the ordinary Tuesdays. Memlane composes it into a private daily edition: beautiful to read, effortless to keep, and able to answer for itself. A newspaper about the one subject no publication covers. You.
A slow morning, then everyone came to the park
Twelve photographs, four places, one small reunion — the best of it in the long light at Dolores Park.
- 9:14 AMBlue Bottle Coffee — first photograph of the day
- 12:30 PMLunch with Dad, Tartine Manufactory
- 6:42 PMDolores Park — eight photographs in golden hour
Third Saturday at the park in a row — a small tradition, forming.
The record already exists.
Nothing lets you read it.
Ten thousand photos, five years of calendars, every place you’ve ever lingered — scattered across apps that were never meant for remembering. Memlane gathers what your iPhone already knows and sets it in type, so your own life becomes something you can open, search, and hand down.
Every day, written up
Where you went, who was there, what the light looked like at the park — filed automatically into a living timeline you’ll actually want to reread. Zero effort. Every photograph captioned.
Ask in plain words
“Where was that ramen place in March?” “When did I last see Maya?” Answers come from your own record — with the receipts to show for it.
See the shape of a season
Trips become dispatches. Years become editions. And some ordinary Tuesdays, it turns out, were worth keeping all along.
Every day, an edition.
Each morning, yesterday is already typeset: the photographs placed and captioned, the places named, the small facts filed under The Day in Brief. No streaks to keep, no journaling homework — the paper writes itself, and it’s about you.
Quiet days read quietly. Big days get the front page. And when a pattern starts to form, Memlane notes it the way a good editor would — as an observation, never an assignment.
As Memlane notices a day worth remembering, it files a note here. — the timeline, to a new reader
On this day, last year
The same date, a colder coast. You and Maya walked Ocean Beach until the fog gave up.
Your most recent photo with Maya is from Saturday at Blue Bottle Coffee — your 14th photograph together this year. Before that: dinner on the calendar, June 21.
412 photographs from Kyoto, May 12–17 — shrines at opening time, a lot of noodles, one very patient heron. The dispatch is ready when you are.
Ask your life anything.
The name of that trattoria from your honeymoon. The last time the whole family was in one photograph. What you did the weekend it finally rained. Ask the way you’d ask a friend with a perfect memory.
Every answer is drawn from your own record — your photos, your calendar, your map — and shows its sources. When Memlane doesn’t know, it says so. No guessing, ever, about your life.
Some days deserve a front page.
Trips arrive home as dispatches — a cover, a cast, day-by-day reportage of everywhere you wandered. Decembers close with a year in review worth passing around the table. And on quiet mornings, On This Day reopens the same date, years earlier.
These are the pages you’ll share. The rest stay yours alone.
The Kyoto Dispatch
- DAY 2Rain, and the covered market
- DAY 4The heron of the Kamo River
- DAY 6Last light from the train home
It rained on day two, and nobody minded.
Written for an audience of one.
A memory this personal only works if it is nobody else’s business. That is a design constraint, not a marketing line:
- Your photos are analyzed, then the originals are deleted from our servers. What stays is the memory — who, where, what — never your picture library.
- AI providers see text, not your photo library. Answers and essays are written from facts drawn out of your record.
- No ads. No selling data. No cross-user anything, ever. Your Memlane has exactly one reader.
- Delete means delete. Leave, and your record leaves with you.
Your history is free. Forever.
Every reader gets their entire life — the full timeline, every photograph organized, people, places, and trips, with no cutoff and no meter. What’s sold is the intelligence on top.
“Here’s your life.”
The whole record, beautifully kept: the living timeline, your photographs captioned and filed, people and places and trips, On This Day. Plus a taste of the deeper questions each week.
“An AI that thinks about your life.”
Unlimited questions, answered from your record. The daily edition written out in full, trip dispatches, the year in review, essays on the people and places that keep showing up.
“Already pay for ChatGPT or Claude?”
Connect it. Your existing subscription does the thinking — every answer on the strongest models, uncapped — and Memlane becomes the memory of the assistant you already use.
Launch pricing. The memory layer is never the paywall — only the intelligence is.
“Memlane remembers your life
so you don’t have to.”