Product UX
Designing file discovery around how people actually remember
On a team collaboration app, every shared file eventually vanished into the chat thread it was posted in. I rebuilt discovery around the file itself — so a document stays findable no matter which conversation it started in.
- Role
- Lead Product Designer — end-to-end UX
- Timeframe
- 2022–2023
- Context
- MelpApp · a team collaboration platform (messaging, calls, workspace)

Every team that used MelpApp had the same quiet ritual: scroll up. Someone shared a file last week, the conversation moved on, and now finding it means combing back through hundreds of messages — or just asking them to send it again.
MelpApp combined messaging, calls, and workspace chat. Files rode along inside conversations, which felt natural until a thread got long. Then the document you needed was somewhere in there, unsearchable, often re-uploaded two or three times by people who couldn't find the original. The product had quietly become an archive of files without ever becoming a system for managing them.
When the chat becomes a filing cabinet
The behaviour was everywhere once I looked for it. People didn't lose files because the app lacked a feature — they lost them because the app's only model for a file was "a thing that happened in a conversation."
What people kept telling us
I interviewed teams who lived in MelpApp daily — designers, engineers, managers. The pattern was consistent, and a little obvious in hindsight.
Nobody remembered which chat a file was in. They remembered the file.
Once a document had been shared, people expected to find it on its own terms — by what it was, who sent it, when — not by reconstructing the conversation it came from. That single observation moved the problem from "improve message history" to "give files a home of their own."
We weren't fixing search inside chat. We were giving files a place to exist.
The decision: a workspace, not a folder
The easy answer was a conventional file explorer bolted onto the side. I didn't want that — a separate folder tree would just split people's attention between "where I talk" and "where my files live." The harder, better answer was a workspace that connected the two, so a file kept its conversation context and gained a life beyond it.
Two ways to find one file

This dual model became the spine of the product. Files grouped by conversation preserved the why; the same files in a structured workspace served the people who think in folders. Nobody had to choose, and nothing was stored twice.
Designing the rest around how people look
With the model settled, the features mostly designed themselves — each one answering a specific way people had been failing to find things.
- Scroll the thread, or ask a teammate to re-send
- The same file uploaded two or three times
- Search that only matched the exact filename
- Open the workspace, filter, done
- One canonical file, shared by reference with a click
- Search across type, people, team, date and context
A personal workspace let people upload and organise without posting into a chat, then drop a file into any conversation by reference — killing most of the duplicate uploads. Permissions gave files owners: view, comment, download or edit, so shared documents stopped changing under people. And search stopped being an afterthought.
Share by reference, not by re-upload



What changed
Giving files a home of their own changed how — and how often — teams used the product.
The numbers tracked something simpler underneath: people stopped losing their own work, and a collaboration tool started feeling like one.
What I took from it
The instinct was to make message history smarter. The unlock was to stop treating files as a side effect of conversation and start treating them as first-class objects with their own home.
It taught me to design for the mental model, not the data model. People had told us, plainly, that they thought in files — the product just hadn't been listening. Most of the work after that was getting out of their way.