Privacy

Your email address and password, held by Supabase Auth — the password as a hash, which this app never sees and cannot read. Your company: its name, address, contact details and logo, because the specbook is signed with them. Your projects: the client’s name, and their email, phone and address if you enter them, the dates, and any notes you write for the project. Your rooms, the products on their boards, the photographs attached to them, and any floor plan you upload.

About how you use it, it records two dates and nothing else: the day you signed up, and the day you first generated a Spec Book. That is how we know whether the app is doing its one job. Not how often, not what you clicked, not how long you stayed. There is no analytics service, no tracking pixel, and no advertising identifier anywhere in this app.

Nine today, and a tenth when there is a subscription to pay for. None of them is paid to receive your data, none is allowed to use it for their own purposes, and nothing is ever sold.

Supabase stores the database and every file — the photographs, the logos and the floor plans. Vercel runs the app itself. Both hold this data on servers in the United States, in Oregon. If you are in Europe or Brazil, your work is crossing a border to get there, and that is worth knowing before you put a client’s project in.

The photographs, logos and room pictures are served from addresses that ask nobody to sign in. The addresses are long and random, so there is no list to walk and nothing of yours can be found by guessing — but whoever holds one can open that picture. This is deliberate: those addresses are what make the photographs appear in the Spec Book your client opens, and they are in the copy you download. Anything you would not hand to a client with the book, do not put on a board.

Anthropic reads what you paste — see below, because it is the part most worth understanding.

Google draws the room pictures, and that request carries the most of anything here — also below. It is sent the drawing of your room and the photographs it is built from. It is not sent your client, your project or your prices.

Replicate runs the model that draws the room’s structure before Google finishes it. It is sent the same composed drawing of your room, and a short description of its size and kind. It is not sent your client, your project, your prices or the products’ names.

Sentry receives a report when something in the app breaks: the error, the page it happened on and the browser it happened in, so it can be fixed before you have to write in about it. It is not sent your name or your email, it does not keep your address on the internet — though it reads a country and a city from it as the report arrives — and it records no video of your screen. An error’s own message can quote what it was working on, so before a report leaves the app the values in it are taken out: a database error keeps which field was wrong but not what was in it, email addresses and phone numbers are removed wherever they appear, a web address loses everything after its question mark, and nothing written to your browser’s console is sent at all. What can remain is text the app itself wrote about the failure — the name of a piece, say. Its servers are in the United States as well.

SerpAPI runs the product search, when you use it. It is sent the words of that search and the country to search in — “low round coffee table solid white oak”, and nothing else. Not your room, not a photograph, not who the project is for. A studio that never opens the search never reaches them.

Resend delivers the emails the app sends you — the link to confirm your address, to reset a password, or to accept an invitation. It receives your email address and the message, and nothing about your projects.

TypeSafe answers one question about a piece the app could not recognise: which kind of thing it is. It is sent the product’s title as the shop published it — “Washable Area Rug, Modern Abstract” — and nothing else. Not the photograph, not the price, not your room and not who the project is for. A piece the app already recognises never reaches them, and nor does anything you typed yourself.

Stripe will handle payment when there is a subscription to pay for. There is none yet, no card has ever been taken, and Stripe has never received anything about you.

Your work — the photographs, the rooms, the pieces you chose — leaves our own servers in two places, and both are worth being exact about. (The search above is a third transmission and carries none of it: words, and no work.) This is the first. When you paste a link or a page so that the app can fill in a product’s details, the text of that page is sent to Anthropic’s API, which reads it and returns the fields. When the app reads a photograph to find what is printed on it, that image is sent too.

What is sent to Anthropic is the shop’s page, not your project: not the client’s name, not the room, not your company, not your other products. What Anthropic then does with it is governed by their own commercial terms rather than by anything this page can promise on their behalf.

It is still a transmission to another company, and a page you paste might be a document a supplier sent you privately. It is your call what goes in — and now you know what goes with it.

The second place, and it sends more than the first. A room picture is drawn by Google’s image model, which cannot draw your room without being shown it.

What goes with that request: the composed drawing of the room, which the app builds out of the photographs of the pieces on your board, placed to scale; the previous picture of that same room, when you are refining one rather than starting it; one photograph of each material in the finishes schedule; and the brief in words — the room’s measurements, and the pieces by name and kind.

On a bathroom or powder room board there is a second request on that same press: the photograph of each vanity and cabinet, and of each piece whose kind has not been set, is sent to Google on its own, with one fixed question — whether a tap stands on its top — so the app can tell you when a photograph carries a tap your board does not list. It carries nothing else.

So the pieces on that board do leave, inside the drawing, and the drawing is the room. What does not go with them is everything around them: not the client’s name, not the project, not your company, not a price, and nothing from any other room. Nothing is sent at all until you press the button — the app never draws a room on its own, and a studio that never asks for a picture never sends Google anything.

The request goes to Google’s global address, so we do not choose which country answers it, and what Google then does with it is governed by their own terms rather than by anything this page can promise on their behalf. If that is not a trade you want to make for a client’s room, the rest of the app — the board, the schedule, the plan and the Spec Book — never asks for it.

A product, note or photograph you remove goes to the room’s bin and can be put back for thirty days. A deleted project works the same way. Past thirty days it is no longer recoverable by you, and the app clears it out — with the photographs — the next time something is removed from that room. So an old item in an untouched room may sit in the bin longer than thirty days; it is simply waiting to be swept, and cannot be restored in the meantime.

A copy of the database is taken once a day and kept so that a mistake or a failure does not cost you a project. Something you deleted may therefore sit in a backup for a short time after it leaves the app.

Everything else is kept for as long as your account exists, because it is the work — a specbook you printed for a client two years ago should still open.

A copy is a button, and it does not go through us: Account → Security → Download everything hands back one JSON file with every project, room, piece and schedule line, and the addresses of the photographs. No request, no wait, no asking permission to leave.

Deleting the account is deliberately not a button. Write to hello@yzyspec.com from the address on the account and a person does it with you — after you have downloaded your work, because every project, room and specbook in it goes, for good.

If you are in Europe or the United Kingdom, the GDPR gives you the right to a copy, to correction, to erasure, and to object — and if you are in Brazil, the LGPD gives you much the same. The paragraph above is how each of those is exercised here.

Everything above is about a studio with an account. This section is about the other list, and it is the whole of it: almost everybody on it has no account here and may never have one.

The form that asks for an invitation keeps three things: the address, which page the form was on, and when. No name, no company, nothing tied to an account.

It is used for one thing, and the form says so when you send it: we write once there is a place in the beta — not before, and not about anything else. It is not shared with anyone, and it is not in the copy a studio downloads of its own work.

To stop a script from filling the list, the form counts how often one connection sends it — five an hour. That count is held in memory for the hour and then forgotten; the address it counted by is never written down.

Addresses that are never invited are deleted when the beta ends. To be taken off sooner, write to hello@yzyspec.com and a person deletes it.

When you copy more than 400 characters from a web page, it writes one record to your browser’s own local storage, on the device you are using: the address of that page, the text you copied, and the time. That record is replaced by the next copy you make, so there is only ever one.

Anything shorter is not written down at all. Copying a price, a name or a line of an address leaves no trace.

A browser does not put a page’s own address on the clipboard. So a product pasted into YzY-Spec arrives with its name, its price and its stock number, and nothing to open when a client asks whether it is still available.

The record is read by one site, YzY-Spec, and only to attach the address of the page you copied from to the product you paste. The board checks that what you pasted really is what was copied before it uses the address at all.

• It never touches your copy. Nothing in it cancels a copy, rewrites the clipboard or re-serialises a selection.
• It never sends anything anywhere. No server — not ours, not anyone’s. There is no account in it, no identifier, and no analytics.
• It is never sold, shared, or used for anything other than the one purpose above.

Uninstalling the extension removes the record with it. You can also clear it at any time from Chrome’s own extension settings, without uninstalling.