A familiar walk can become unsettling when the way home no longer feels familiar. For someone living with dementia, getting directions from a smartphone may introduce another challenge: navigating menus when they’re already struggling to get their bearings. The design problem goes beyond knowing where a person is. It’s making guidance accessible to the person who needs it.
That’s the thinking behind Compath, a wearable concept by designer Jonas Krämer. Its yellow Home button puts a recognizable destination ahead of a complicated interface, with proposed visual and audio cues to guide the wearer. I like that the idea begins with helping someone continue an everyday activity, rather than treating their whereabouts as the only problem worth solving.
Designer: Jonas Krämer
Compath was one of seven finalist projects in the 2025 RIMOWA Design Prize. It’s presented as a design project, not a retail launch, so its intentions shouldn’t be confused with proven performance. That distinction leaves room to appreciate the thinking on its own terms. There’s a useful ambition here: make the help accessible to the wearer, instead of putting all the useful information on somebody else’s phone.
The published imagery shows a round body with a dark central face, a substantial outer ring, and that contrasting Home button. Shown suspended from cords and chains, the device reads closer to a personal accessory than a conventional emergency pendant. A key and a rainbow heart charm appear alongside two versions. Those details give the object a social life beyond its function. That’s a more persuasive approach to personalization than offering a choice between two anonymous shades of gray.
Krämer’s interface proposal avoids touch controls and complex menus. Visual and audio cues would provide guidance and reminders, while the Home button would direct the wearer home or to another designated place. That restraint makes sense. A device meant to help someone get oriented shouldn’t make learning its interface feel like a separate assignment. Every additional decision needs to earn its place.
The proposed Safe Zone would be defined together by the wearer and caregivers around familiar places and routines. Leaving it would trigger an alert. That collaboration matters, because a boundary drawn with someone carries a different meaning from one imposed on them. The same spirit should carry through beyond the presentation, particularly when deciding who receives alerts and how much information gets shared.
Back home, a charging dock called the Lighthouse would give Compath a fixed landing spot, alongside keys or medication. It’s an ordinary domestic gesture, which is precisely why I like it. The system considers the moments before and after a walk. A wearable can be beautifully resolved on its own and still leave its owner wondering where it belongs.
The accessory-like presentation also raises a good design question: why should receiving assistance require adopting a completely different visual identity? I wouldn’t want a useful device to announce my medical history before I’d introduced myself. That’s an editorial preference, not evidence that Compath would feel comfortable or familiar to every wearer. Still, the visible attention to cords, chains, and personal additions makes the proposal feel interested in taste, not merely compliance.
Before treating a concept like this as a practical care option, I’d want answers about battery life, connectivity, location accuracy, and what happens when a cue goes unnoticed. I’d also want to know how the controls work for people with different abilities and changing needs. These aren’t reasons to dismiss the design. They’re the questions that would determine whether its reassuring simplicity survives an actual afternoon outside. A missed instruction on a sidewalk matters more than a perfectly legible interface in a presentation.
That leaves Compath in an interesting place for me. I don’t need a care device to look futuristic, and I’m not especially persuaded by a long feature list. I want the person wearing it to have a reason to choose it, understand it, and keep using it. The strongest idea here is that asking for help could begin with an object you’ve made your own, and a button whose purpose doesn’t need a sales pitch.
