Ehope — Community-Driven Environmental Action Platform | Web

0. About This Case in 10 Seconds

What: An early-stage environmental platform connecting people with ecological initiatives across France. The problem: The platform was brand new. No users, no content, no activity. It needed to feel alive from day one and give people a reason to stay, come back, and participate. My role: Built the full product concept from scratch: visual direction, discovery UX, engagement and retention system, mascot redesign. The boldest decision: I removed the search bar and replaced it with guided discovery. On a new platform with little content, search leads to empty results. Empty results kill trust. The soul of the project: A pixel hedgehog who shows up when things go wrong and makes you smile instead of leave

Meet the hedgehog. He cries when your page is missing, scratches his head when your filters find nothing, and somehow makes you want to stay anyway. He's the emotional support mascot this platform didn't know it needed.

1. The Project

Ehope is an early-stage platform that connects people across France with ecological initiatives, local events, and environmental actions happening around them.

I joined the project in October 2025 as a product designer working with a small team: a product owner and two other designers. My role was to build the visual and UX direction from scratch. And I mean from scratch. No existing design system, no patterns, no wireframes.

From visual concept to prototype. This is where it all started: structure first, then personality, then polish.

Over the course of about two months, I developed the full concept direction: the visual identity, the interaction logic, the product decisions you’ll see below. As the project evolved, I continued developing my concept independently and brought it to high-fidelity over a few additional weeks.

2. The Challenge

Here’s the thing about ecological platforms. They tend to fall into two traps.

The first one is the “green NGO” look. Leaves, soft gradients, safe palette, educational tone. It communicates responsibility, but it does not make you want to open the platform on a Saturday morning.

The second one is the startup cleanliness. Sleek, minimal, forgettable. No soul. No emotional hook. You scroll through it, and five minutes later you can’t remember what it looked like.

I wanted to avoid both. My goal was to make environmental participation feel less like a duty and more like something you’d actually want to be part of. Less “you should care” and more “look what’s happening near you, come join.”

3. The Core Idea

I approached this with one question: what if ecological action felt like a community experience instead of an obligation?

Instead of designing a platform that lectures people about the environment, I designed one that shows them real humans doing real things nearby. The energy is social. The tone is optimistic. The whole experience is built around the feeling that something is already happening, and you’re invited.

We live in a time where people feel more disconnected than ever. This hero section is designed to fight that. Real faces, real energy, real togetherness. Before you even scroll, you already feel like you could belong somewhere when it actually matters.

4. Key Product Decisions

Discovery Over Search

One of the early conversations in the team was about search. It felt like an obvious feature to include. But I saw it differently, and here’s why.

When a platform is new, the content base is small. If someone searches “beach cleanup in Marseille” and gets zero results, that’s it. They leave. They probably never come back. That one empty result page kills trust.

Because the platform is new, its content ecosystem is still developing. That means the experience can’t rely solely on search. I intentionally guide users through alternative discovery paths: if they hit zero results, they’re redirected to pre-selected events instead of reaching a dead end. Curated collections and social proof, such as visible participation numbers, help maintain engagement, even when the content base is still limited.

Instead of search, I built the experience around guided discovery. A calendar where you can browse upcoming events by date. A filter system where you pick categories, distance, type of impact. Curated collections like “popular this month” and “editor’s picks.” The idea is simple: no matter what you click, you always find something. Every interaction leads to content, never to a dead end.

The calendar and filtering system work as a fluid discovery layer. Instead of starting with a blank or overly utilitarian interface, users first see suggested initiatives as large cards. Once they begin refining their search, those suggestions seamlessly give way to filtered results.

For an early-stage platform, this was the safer and smarter choice. You don’t give people a blank input field when you can’t guarantee you’ll fill it with results. You guide them. You show them what’s alive.

This is the screen that replaced search. A calendar to browse by date, filters to narrow down what you care about, and results that never come back empty. Every click leads somewhere.

The map view was the product owner's vision, and it made perfect sense. When you're looking for an initiative nearby, nothing beats seeing it on an actual map. Filters on the left, locations on the right. You pick what matters to you, the map shows you where it's happening

Business logic

This wasn't just a UX decision. It was a business decision. An early-stage platform can't afford to lose first-time visitors to empty search results. Every user who leaves after a dead-end search is a potential community member the platform will never get back. Guided discovery protects early retention at the moment when the platform needs it most.

Different Home Pages for Two Different Types of Users

I designed two versions of the home page, and they serve completely different purposes.

When you’re not logged in, the page works like a funnel. It starts with emotion: real photographs of real people picking up trash, planting trees, holding signs. Then it hits you with numbers: 32,560 citizens already engaged, 1,248 active initiatives, 8,940 kilos of waste collected. Then the reward system. Then the calendar. Then the popular actions. Then the partners. Every block pulls you one step deeper. By the time you reach the bottom, you either sign up or you leave knowing exactly what this platform is about.

When you’re logged in, the experience is personalized. “Explore what’s happening near you, Léa.” The calendar comes first. The filters are immediately accessible. And then there’s the leaderboard: Top Contributors in Your Region. This is where the gamification lives. I wanted people to feel the taste of competition, to see other humans making an impact and think “I want to be on that list too.” Below that: curated picks, eco news, weekend suggestions. It feels alive. It feels like a community that’s already moving without you.

Starter page — not connected. The first visit. You don't have an account yet, so the page does the talking: real people, real numbers, real actions. Every block pulls you one step closer to signing up.

Starter page — connected. Once you're in, everything changes. The platform knows your name, your region, and shows you what's happening nearby. The leaderboard, the curated picks, the weekend suggestions. It feels like a community that's already moving.

The Hedgehog and 8-bit Style

The initial idea was that the platform's mascot should be a hedgehog. I loved that. But when I started working on the high-fidelity designs, I took the concept in a completely different direction. I redesigned the mascot as an 8-bit pixel character and reworked the logo to match, giving it the same pixel-art style. These are the only two 8-bit elements in the entire design. Everything else is clean and modern. That contrast is intentional: the pixel hedgehog and the pixel logo are the personality layer, the handmade detail inside a polished system. Why 8-bit? Because the ecological topic is heavy. It's serious. And I didn't want the platform to feel like another place that makes you feel bad about not recycling enough.

It's pretty quiet here... Instead of a blank screen, the hedgehog shows up confused and points you toward popular missions.

The pixel hedgehog does something important: it brings warmth into moments that would otherwise be frustrating or cold.

You searched for something and nothing came up? The hedgehog shows up, scratching his head, saying “It’s pretty quiet here…” He’s not a condescending error message. He’s a friend who tells you to try different filters or check out popular missions. Instead of frustration, you get a small moment of softness.

The 404 page. Our hedgehog couldn't find your page and he's taking it personally. The button says 'Console the hedgehog.' Because even a dead end can be a moment of warmth.

This hedgehog and 8-bit element tie directly into the gamification system. This decision is not a decoration. All of it is a part of the product’s emotional layer: the thing that makes you remember this platform, the thing that makes the experience feel crafted and human rather than institutional.

The Reward System: Making Participation Mean Something

I didn’t want empty badges. I didn’t want “congratulations, you earned 10 points” with no context.

The reward system I designed connects participation to real value. You join events, you contribute, and your activity converts into something tangible: discounts from eco-friendly partner brands, access to exclusive workshops, visibility on the leaderboard.

The psychology behind it is straightforward. I wanted to shift the motivation from “I should help the planet” to “I want to grow my impact and see where I stand.” Duty is exhausting. Habit is sustainable. The whole system is built to turn one-time visitors into people who come back because they’re building something.

Your actions deserve more than a badge. Real participation turns into real rewards: partner discounts, exclusive workshops.

A leaderboard for ecological action. Because apparently even kindness tastes better with a little competition.

Business logic

For the platform, this solves a real growth problem. Environmental projects rely on recurring volunteers, not one-time visitors. A reward structure tied to real partner benefits gives users a reason to come back that goes beyond personal motivation. It turns goodwill into habit, and habit into a predictable, growing user base.

The Visual System

Every visual choice I made was in service of the product, not aesthetics for the sake of aesthetics.

Navy blue as the foundation

The brand direction called for navy blue, and I kept it. Blue gives stability and trust. It says “we’re serious” without being cold. For a platform that asks people to give their time to environmental causes, trust is everything.

Orange for action

Blue on its own can feel distant. I introduced a high-saturation orange for every call-to-action element. Orange is the opposite of blue. It carries energy, warmth, physical movement. Every button that says “join” or “participate” is orange. The subconscious link I wanted to create: blue is where you learn, orange is where you act.

Large, bold typography

I used strong editorial headlines to create a sense of urgency and structure. This platform is about a movement. It should feel like one.

Soft, rounded geometry

Generous corner radii keep the interface approachable. This is important for a social-impact product that needs to feel safe and welcoming to everyone, not just people who already care about ecology.

Real human imagery

Real faces, real events, real energy. When you see actual people doing actual things, the distance between “I could do this” and “I want to do this” gets smaller.

5. What I Took From This Project

This concept was developed as an early-stage product direction. As the project evolved, the team's priorities shifted, and not every part of this direction moved into implementation. That happens in early-stage teams. What matters is what stays with you after.

Here's what stayed with me

A strong concept needs more than clear design and solid product logic. It needs shared conviction across the team about where the product is going. That alignment is just as much a part of the work as the interface itself. And the thinking behind this project, the discovery logic, the emotional design, the engagement system, none of it disappeared. It carried forward into everything I've done since.

Expected outcomes

Since this concept didn't reach full implementation, I can't point to real metrics. But here's what I would have measured: sign-up to first-event conversion rate, return visits within 30 days, filter usage vs. bounce rate on the discovery page, and empty-state recovery, meaning how many users who hit the hedgehog screen continued browsing instead of leaving. These are the numbers that would tell me whether the system actually works.

But the one metric I'd trust most? Whether someone who came for one cleanup came back for a second. Because that would mean the platform didn't just inform them. It made them feel like they belong.

Role: Product Designer Timeline: October — November 2025 (team) I March 2026 (independent high-fidelity) Platform: Web (responsive) Tools: Figma Skills: Product Design, UX Design, UI Design, Discovery UX, Gamification, Emotional Design, Mascot Design, Information Architecture, Visual Design System Type: Concept case study, early-stage platform