Istanbul · est. 2024 · staff-owned, nap-powered
Miskincin is an oxymoron we made up and then legally adopted: lazy, but somehow faster than you. We are an AI-first studio in Istanbul, making software that solves problems we were personally too bothered to keep solving manually.
We don't do manifestos because we think the world needs another one. We do them because written rules are easier to ignore gracefully. Here are ours, in no particular order of obedience.
Two apps. One out in the world, one still in a polite argument with its final details. Both are small answers to questions that mildly annoyed us until we wrote code instead.
(a soft puzzle adventure for people who like their brains stretched gently)
A puzzle game that grandparents, parents and kids can actually play together without one of them crying by level three. Warm, wordless, faintly ridiculous. Built for the soft hour between dinner and sleep.
(photograph the receipt, assign the guilt, move on with your evening)
Snap the receipt. Tag who ate what. Walk out of dinner without the group-chat post-mortem. No accounts. No subscription theatre. Just the shortest possible path between a bill and peace.
Not a methodology. Not a framework. Just six opinions that have survived several contracts, a tax audit and one group chat.
The second-best feature is always the first one we cut.
Pricing pages should read like a friend, not a lawyer on retainer.
We use it heavily. We don't make you look at it. Magic, not demo.
We don't want your data because we don't want to protect it.
Fewer dependencies, fewer rewrites, fewer angry nights in 2028.
Design reviews happen at eye level, one decision at a time.
We make tools that get out of the way. The best compliment we ever got from a user of Souppo was that she forgot she was in an app until she was through level forty. The best one we ever got from a tester of Snap Split Your Bill was that her friend paid without complaining. These are our metrics. We do not have a dashboard.
— the studio, somewhere near Kadıköy
We take on a tiny number of outside projects a year. Usually because we find the problem interesting, occasionally because we lost a bet. Either way, the first email is free.
