A portable memory chest that helps people with Alzheimer's hold on to their memories

Where it started

Alzheimer's is the most common kind of dementia, and it works slowly. First it takes the small things: where you left your keys, a name, what someone said an hour ago. Then it takes more. There's no cure, only therapies that slow it down.[1]

One of the best known is reminiscence therapy, and it's exactly what it sounds like: looking at, listening to and talking about meaningful moments from your own past, to hold on to who you are.[2]

Disclaimer: ~62,500 is our own estimate, calculated using the data we found, since no official figure is available.[6]

We designed for the earliest stage of the disease, when people are still independent and aware enough to be scared.[7] But as the condition progresses, caregivers and healthcare professionals will become just as important to consider in the design process.

Meet Carmen

To bring our research to life, we created Carmen. She's 76, retired, married to Abel, and was diagnosed with Alzheimer's two years ago. She's fictional, but her experiences, fears, and needs are grounded in what we learned through our research.

Carmen Jiménez

OutgoingFamily-orientedSentimental

Age: 76 Status: Married Occupation: Retired

About her

Carmen has a hard time accepting her diagnosis, and talking about it isn't easy. Abel, her husband, has noticed she struggles to remember recent events, yet she can recall moments from her youth in detail. Those memories bring her comfort and help her feel like herself again.

Frustrations

• Not remembering names, activities, or even where she left something.
• Struggling with simple everyday tasks.
• Overstimulation: hearing many noises and seeing many things at once.
• Feeling confused in different situations.

Fears

Intensity

Feeling alone, in a constant void

58%

Losing her memories, and her identity

90%

Forgetting the people she loves

72%

The uncertainty of the illness

46%

Needs

To preserve her memories from her youth

To keep remembering the people she loves

To feel emotionally well

Carmen was our main focus, but she wouldn't be using the product alone. Her family, caregivers, doctors, and therapists would all play a role along the way, so we needed to design with them in mind too.

Listening and looking around

Before sketching anything, we did our homework: we talked with the people who live this every day, and we studied everything that already exists.

01

A closer look at life with Alzheimer's

What we did

We interviewed María Jesús, who lives with and looks after her uncle with Alzheimer's. His symptoms started seven years ago. Additionally, we watched documentaries and expert talks on dementia research.[8]

What we heard

He avoids talking about his diagnosis, but lights up around people, music, and stories from his past. He also finds comfort in familiar routines and physical objects, while small text and too many choices can feel overwhelming.

Why it mattered

We realized the experience shouldn't feel like a reminder of his condition. It needed to build on what already brought him joy: familiar memories, music, and human connection, while keeping interactions simple and intuitive.

02

Nothing on the shelf was built to keep memories

What we did

We analyzed 13 products for older adults and people with dementia, from GPS wearables and talking clocks to music players and memory games. We looked at their usability, features, and how they supported everyday life.[9]

What we found

Most products focused on health, safety, and helping caregivers. Many required help to set up, while others relied on small text, complicated controls, or frustrating games. Very few focused on preserving personal memories and experiences.

Why it mattered

We saw an opportunity to design something different. Not another safety device, but a simple, personal experience that puts memories, emotional wellbeing, and independence first.

From insights to a clear problem

With all our research on the table, it was time to connect the dots. We needed to understand what was causing the problem, how it affected people's lives, and where design could make a difference.

01

Turning everything into one sentence

What we did

We built a problem tree to connect the causes of Alzheimer's with its effects on memory, daily routines, and emotional well-being. This helped us identify where design could make a difference.

The design problem

People in the early stages of Alzheimer's struggle to recall memories, affecting their emotional well-being and sense of identity.

Our hypothesis

What if an audiovisual memory player could help? By using reminiscence therapy, we believed it could stimulate memory and support emotional well-being.

02

Letting caregivers set the priorities

What we did

The topic is sensitive, so surveying people with Alzheimer's directly wasn't practical. Instead, we asked seven caregivers to rank our design requirements based on their experience caring for someone with the condition.

What we found

Revisiting memories and making the product easy to use came out on top. Saving personal information and experiences also mattered, while building a daily usage habit was less of a priority.

Why it mattered

This helped us focus on what mattered most: an intuitive experience that makes revisiting memories easy, without adding unnecessary steps or relying on daily use.

Deciding how to make it feel familiar

A device for older adults with Alzheimer's shouldn't feel like a medical device. So before choosing a shape, we focused on two things: how it looked and how it felt to use. We explored visual preferences with 12 older adults, then studied hand measurements, grip patterns, and everyday interactions to balance aesthetics with comfort and usability.

Key design decisions

• Vintage simplicity: A familiar, nostalgic look inspired by objects from their youth.
• Soft, friendly visuals: Pastel colors, geometric shapes, and rounded edges.
• Familiar materials: A mix of plastic, chrome-like accents, and leather.
• Comfortable handling: Proportions informed by older adults' hand measurements.[10]
• Effortless interaction: Large controls, fewer choices, and simple, intuitive actions.

From a survey to a semantic phrase

We asked 12 older adults which visual style felt most familiar. Their preference for simple, vintage objects led us to our design direction: vintage simplicity.

One idea to hold it all together

With the research done and the look decided, we needed a single idea to design around. We called it “Linking the present with past experiences.”

The picture in our heads was a memory chest. We imagined a familiar object that could bring personal memories into everyday life. Something that could play, preserve, and capture meaningful moments without feeling like a medical device.

Ergonomics

Comfortable grips, large controls, and clear text and icons designed around older adults' needs.

Perception

A commemorative look with a traditional aesthetic. The design should say it is easy to use and friendly.

Materials

Lightweight materials that resist knocks and falls. Plastics with chrome-like finishes and subtle textures.

Aesthetics

Soft colors with good contrasts. A clean look with simple shapes and rounded edges.

Functions

Play photos, videos, and music, record stories, store memories, and navigate between them.

Portable

Light and compact design with a rechargeable battery and elements that make it easy to grip.

User Experience

A friendly experience with interactive elements. Intuitive usability with fewer choices and minimal cognitive effort.

“Linking the present with past experiences”

Audiovisual projection that encourages the preservation of memories and gives emotional support to the person facing Alzheimer's.

General objective

Design a simple, personal device that uses reminiscence to stimulate memory and support emotional well-being in older adults with early-stage Alzheimer's.

The idea broken down

The five key objectives

These became the yardstick for every sketch we scored next.

See the full concept page

Fifteen sketches, one winner

With our design goals in place, it was time to get sketching. Each of us came up with five concepts, giving us 15 ideas to choose from. To pick fairly, we first ranked the five objectives from the concept against each other, which gave us weights instead of gut feelings. Then every sketch got a score from 1 to 5 against them.

The top score, 93 out of 100, went to a sketch from my set: a box that opens like a chest, with the screen in the lid, a magnetic latch, a headphone jack, and a base that charges it. The team took it from there and built it into the final proposal.

The winning concept

The idea was simple: open the chest, and the screen turns on. No complicated setup, no menus to navigate just to get started. A familiar gesture made the experience feel more natural and intuitive.

Take the tour

Nimo, in one page. This is the poster we made to present it, and it works as a quick tour: the lid screen, the soft leather grip, the magnetic closure, voice recording, Bluetooth transfer and the charging base, plus the kind of memories it plays back. The poster is in Spanish, just like the pitch.

How it's used

Watch the pitch (narrated in Spanish, so turn the captions on), or follow the six steps. Almost none of them involve thinking.

6 min pitch · Spanish, with captions

1. 1

   Open

   Lift the lid and Nimo turns itself on.

2. 2

   Choose

   Pick videos, images or music.

3. 3

   Pick a mode

   Shuffle, or select a specific file.

4. 4

   Browse

   Previous, play or pause, next.

5. 5

   Add a story

   Adjust the volume, or hold record and tell the story behind what's on screen.

6. 6

   Close

   Shut the lid and Nimo goes to sleep.

Building it twice

One prototype can't prove everything, so we built two: one to test how it works, and one to test how it looks and feels. Together they cost around ₡128,000 (about $200), which is the whole point of prototyping early.

Prototype 1 · Functional

A plain wooden box that proved the interaction

What it had to prove

That the flow made sense in real hands: open the lid, pick content, browse, change the volume, record.

How we built it

A 3 mm MDF shell, laser cut at the TEC with interlocking joints and white glue. Two smartphones played the lid screen and the touchscreen. An Arduino, a breadboard, LEDs, buttons and a voice module did the rest.

Why it mattered

It let us run the usability test before spending a single colón on the final look.

Prototype 2 · Perceptual

A second model, just for looks and feel

What it had to prove

That the shape, color and materials said "friendly keepsake" and not "medical gadget".

How we built it

Modeled in SolidWorks and 3D printed in PLA, then sanded, primed and spray painted. Our first model was bright and playful; the final one settled on cream and brown, like an old keepsake box.

Why it mattered

Separating "how it works" from "how it feels" meant neither test had to compromise.

Testing with real hands

We tested the functional prototype with six people between 65 and 85, living with things like Parkinson's, dementia and arthritis in the wrists. They went through the whole flow, from picking up the box to recording a voice note, while we timed each step and watched where they hesitated.

An important caveat: none of them had a diagnosed early-stage Alzheimer's. We couldn't arrange that within the project, so these findings tell us about usability, not about how Nimo works for the person it's designed for.

01

The grip worked, with one small trim

What we saw

84% held and opened it successfully. Testers moved naturally between holding it, resting it on a table and setting it in their lap, and used their right hand on the touchscreen every time. Socorro picked it up sideways and opened it like a book, which says a lot about the mental models people bring.

What changed

We narrowed the grip by 0.5 cm, to be more comfortable and cleaner to look at.

Why it mattered

The always-visible buttons were already a comfortable size, so the physical shape was in good shape.

02

The touchscreen needed contrast, not more features

What we saw

Choosing a content type was where people stumbled: 67% got it right the first time. Picking a specific file, though, went smoothly for everyone.

What changed

We redrew the menus with stronger contrast, larger targets, clearer labels and a stricter visual hierarchy.

Why it mattered

Same three screens, but easier to read at a glance, which is exactly what you want when reading is already hard.

Before

Low contrast, small labels, soft hierarchy.

After

Stronger contrast, bigger targets, clearer labels.

03

The physical buttons needed clearer labels

What we saw

Volume and record were harder to identify than anything else on the device.

What changed

We resized the buttons to 2.5 cm, clarified their labels, and grouped them in one interaction zone next to a 12 × 8 cm screen.

Why it mattered

These buttons carry the most emotional weight: the volume of a favorite song, the recording of a story. They can't be a guessing game.

04

People read it as a device that plays things

What we saw

In the perceptual survey, people described Nimo as something like a tablet, a game or a console, and said it looked like it would play content.

What it means

The object itself helps explain what it does and how to use it, which is half the job.

What I'd test next

Whether the "memory chest" idea lands on its own, without us there to tell the story.

See the full results slide

Results and what I'd carry forward

Nimo is a course project, so there are no sales or retention numbers here, and no clinical outcomes either. What I can share is how it held up in front of people, and how it compared with everything else we looked at.

Key takeaway

Overall conclusion

The core idea held up: a box that opens like a keepsake, plays what you love and keeps your stories, in a package older hands could hold and read.

The next step is the one we couldn't take: putting it in front of people in the early stage of Alzheimer's.

What I'd carry forward

What I learned: when you design for a condition that keeps changing, simplicity stops being a style and becomes a requirement. And when the people you're designing for can't answer your survey, you find the next-best voices, and you stay honest about what those voices can and can't tell you.

What I'd do differently: find a way, with the right ethical support, to test with people in the early stage of Alzheimer's. I'd also test the screen design earlier, since that's where most of our changes came from.

What I'd try next: design and test the companion phone app. Caregivers will probably be the ones loading the memories, so their experience matters just as much as Carmen's.