Your clothes, your photos, your account.

Trusgan works on photos of your wardrobe and how outfits look on you. That's personal, so here's exactly what happens with it — in plain words, because that's how we'd want it explained to us.

What we keep

Everything lives in your account and nowhere else — every photo in private storage only your signed-in account can reach. The list, in full:

The export button in Settings downloads all of it; the delete button removes all of it except the last two lines above, which the list is honest about so this page never has to hedge.

Who else sees it

The styling and tagging run on AI models from Anthropic (styling, feedback, and spotting the pieces in an outfit photo), Google (Gemini reads the photo of each piece you add, and its label photo if you add one, to tag it; if Gemini can't answer, Anthropic tags it instead) and OpenAI (wardrobe images, and — if you add a reference photo — the "see it on me" outfit previews drawn onto it, with any note you type for the picture). Suggesting looks may also run on OpenAI's models instead of Anthropic's, when we compare stylists: then the same text the stylist works from — your pieces' descriptions, the stylist's notes about you, the day and the weather, never a photo — goes to OpenAI for that suggestion. Your photos are sent to these services to do that work and for nothing else — under paid API terms where they aren't used to train models. To find pieces that are alike, and to recognise a piece you already own in a new photo, two short text descriptions of each piece — one of its kind, colours, material, fit and style words, one of its physical facts alone, never its brand or photo — go to OpenAI once, which returns lists of numbers kept with the piece; they are sent again only when you change the piece. When a photo is checked against your wardrobe (what you wore, a wish, a new piece), the same kind of short description of each garment in it goes too, and is not kept. Your saved location (the rounded one, or the town you typed) goes to Open-Meteo to fetch the day's weather, and a typed town goes to Open-Meteo once to find where it is. If you pick the with-the-sun theme, your rough location is kept on your own device to work out sunset times — it never leaves your browser. When you plan a trip, the destination you type goes to Open-Meteo to look up its forecast, and the trip (destination, dates, and the packing plan) is stored in your account until you delete it. The morning nudge, if you turn it on, travels through your browser's own push service (run by your browser maker) — it carries only the nudge text, never a photo. The daily email, on for every account until you turn it off in Settings, is sent through Resend (an email delivery service): they handle your email address and the email itself — the names of the pieces in your pick and links to their catalogue plates, links that stop working after a week — and nothing else. When you make an Edit — the next four weeks composed ahead — the stylist looks up what the season is doing through Anthropic's web search; the searches carry the town under Your weather and the season, never your name, your pieces or a photo. Two of the Edit's looks are drawn onto your reference photo the same way "see it on me" is. Because composing takes minutes, we send one email to your sign-in address when an Edit is ready, whether you asked for it or it came at the start of the month — through Resend, like the nudges, carrying the dates and a link and nothing else — and a push to your phone if you turned nudges on. Very occasionally we email everyone a short note about what's new in the app — it goes through Resend the same way, and replying to any of them is enough to opt out. That's the whole list. No analytics, no trackers, no advertising, nothing sold — not to anyone, not ever.

Your wardrobe, for an assistant you choose

If you make a wardrobe key in Settings, an assistant you point at it — your own ChatGPT or Claude, say — can read your wardrobe through Trusgan: your pieces and their tags, what's in the wash, what you've worn, the looks you kept, and what the stylist knows about your taste — its notes about you, your style portrait and the pieces you build around — plus links to the catalogue drawings of your pieces that expire within a day. That is all it can do: it cannot change anything, and it never sees a photo of you — not your reference photo, not a mirror snap. Nothing goes anywhere until you make a key and hand it over yourself, and revoking it in Settings shuts the door that instant. The key is stored as a hash, so it is shown to you once and never again.

A look you share

Share, on a look, makes a private link to a page that anyone with the link can open, signed in or not. The page always shows the look's name and its pieces, by their names and catalogue images, never your own photos of them. It shows the stylist's reason, your AI outfit preview, one mirror photo you pick, and your first name only if you tick them, and nothing else: not your other looks, your wardrobe, your conversations or your email. Nothing is shared until you press "Make the link". You can change what it shows, or switch it off, at any time: switched off, the page stops working at once, and the links to its pictures lapse within the hour. The link is a long random address no one can guess, and search engines are told not to index it. When you paste it into a chat app, the app fetches a small preview picture (the look's name and its pieces' wardrobe images, never a photo of you) and may keep its copy after you switch the link off. Deleting the look, or your account, removes the link; removing the mirror photo takes it off the page.

Can the person who runs Trusgan see my things?

No — and not as a promise, as a construction. The founder's own account is refused your data at the database-policy level, the same mechanism that separates any two users. The back office he runs the product from sees totals and counts only: how many accounts exist, how many pieces and try-ons each has, and what the AI calls cost — never a photo, never a piece's name, never a conversation with the stylist, never what you wore. When something breaks on your account it sees that as counts too — how many of your pieces are missing their image, which kind of request didn't finish — and can ask the app to redo that work — remaking an image, or reading your pieces' photos again with a newer tagger — which it does on your behalf without anyone looking at the result. A re-read never overwrites a detail you set by hand. When a call to one of the AI providers fails, the app keeps the provider's error message for 30 days, with no photo, piece or account attached, so an outage gets noticed before you have to mention it. The two things about you it can see are your signup email and anything you deliberately send through the feedback button — that one is mail, addressed to him on purpose. Honesty requires one more sentence: like every small service, the database ultimately runs under an operator account that infrastructure work happens through — but there is no tool in this product that opens anyone's wardrobe, and the app login the founder actually lives in cannot.

What we never do

Your photos are never shown to other users and never used for marketing, and none is ever public unless you share a look and pick a mirror photo for its page yourself. There are no "community" features quietly sharing your wardrobe. The example outfits on our own front page are the one deliberate exception — they come from the founder's personal wardrobe, published by the founder's own hand, and that tool exists for no one else's account.

Deleting

Want it all gone? Settings has a delete button that removes every photo, every piece, your whole history and everything the stylist learned — immediately, and without asking anyone. There's a download button beside it if you'd like a copy first. If you'd rather a human did it, send a note through the in-app feedback button (or email [email protected]) and it all goes — photos, history, the stylist's notes, account.

Questions? The feedback button reaches a person.

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