Nearly everything Every-List does is free.

There is no cap on how many lists you create, how many items you put on one, or how many people you share it with. That's a deliberate decision, not an oversight — sharing is the whole point of the app, so charging for the thing that makes it useful would be self-defeating.

The only counted limits anywhere in Every-List are on photos, saved recipes and AI photo scans, all of which cost real money to store or process. Those are spelled out on the Premium page.

When someone checks off milk, it checks off on your phone a moment later — while you're standing in the aisle looking at the list. The same is true for adding an item, renaming one, reordering the list, or changing who it's assigned to.

Every list also records who added each item and who checked it off, with a timestamp, so "did anyone already grab the bread?" has an actual answer when three people are shopping for the same trip.

Lists that come around again — the weekly grocery run, the same packing list every trip — don't need to be rebuilt. Reset unchecks everything at once and leaves the items, assignments and grouping exactly where they were, ready for the next round.

Beyond a name, every list can carry three optional things:

• A description — free text. On a registry this is what someone sees when deciding whether to accept the invitation, since they can't preview the list itself first.
• A link — opens in a browser inside the app, so you don't lose your place.
• A location — either a typed address or a map link pasted straight from your phone's Maps app. Tapping it hands off to real turn-by-turn directions rather than opening a web page.

The link and the location are deliberately two different fields, because "where do I buy this" and "where do I physically go" are two different questions.

Flip a list into a registry and you unlock inviting people by email address — no friend request, no existing account required. A wedding, baby shower or birthday registry works the way you'd expect: guests browse the whole list and claim things.

If you invite someone who has never used Every-List, the invitation waits for them. The moment they sign up with that email address, it connects automatically and the list appears — they never have to hunt for it or ask you to re-send anything.

Every item has a free-text note attached to it, and everyone who can see the item can read it. This is where the detail that doesn't fit in an item's name goes — and it's usually the difference between someone bringing home the right thing and the wrong thing.

• "The low-sodium one in the blue can, not the red"
• "Ask the butcher to cut it into thirds"
• "If they're out, the store brand is fine, but check it's gluten free"
• On a task list: "Key is under the mat, alarm code is on the fridge"

Quantity is a real field ("2 lbs", "1 dozen", "a case"), not something you type into the name. It also feeds a subtler behaviour: Every-List treats "1 dozen eggs" and "5 dozen eggs" as two different saved items rather than one.

That matters once you start recording prices, because averaging the price of a single dozen together with the price of a five-dozen flat would produce a number that means nothing.

An item can carry a link to the exact product — the specific model, the right size, the listing you already found — so whoever picks it up isn't guessing. It opens in a browser inside the app.

Separately, an item can carry a location. Tapping that hands off to your phone's real Maps app for directions. Useful when one item on the list comes from somewhere other than wherever the rest of it does.

Basic includes one photo per item; Premium raises that to three. Photos are one of the few things Every-List meters at all, because image storage and bandwidth are a genuine recurring cost.

What people actually use them for:

• The exact product. A photo of the label settles brand-and-size arguments in the aisle instantly.
• Proof of what you own. Photographing belongings as you list them turns a checklist into a dated record — see the home inventory example.
• Where a thing lives. A shot of the shelf, the filter slot, or the shut-off valve, so the next person doesn't have to hunt.
• What's in the box. Photographing a box's contents before taping it shut, on a moving list.

Typing a price on an item is free and always available. What Premium adds is the layer on top of that — automatic prompting at check-off, running totals, and comparison across stores. The number itself is your data, so entering and reading it never costs anything.

Prices are formatted in your own currency, based on your device's region, rather than assuming dollars.

Put someone's name on an item and it stops being a floating task nobody claims. The person assigned gets a notification, and the list can be filtered down to just one person's items — useful when you're splitting up inside a store.

Who can assign whom depends on role: a manager can assign anyone on the list, while everyone else can only assign items to themselves. That stops a shared list turning into a way to hand each other chores unilaterally.

Items cluster under named, collapsible headings that you make up yourself. Nothing is pre-set, so a group means whatever is useful to you: Produce / Dairy / Frozen on a grocery list, Kitchen / Garage / Master bath on a moving list, Before we leave / At the airport on a travel list, or one heading per store.

Drag an item to move it between groups or reorder it, and everyone sharing the list sees the same arrangement — this grouping is part of the list itself, not a personal view. Collapse a group you're done with to get it out of the way.

A group can also carry its own link and location. Set them on the group header and the whole "Hardware store" section has directions attached, without repeating the address on all eleven items under it.

Above the individual list, you can group the lists themselves — "Household", "The cabin", "Work", "Wedding". These are tags, not folders: one list can sit in several groups at once and still appear in your main list view.

This grouping is entirely personal. You and your partner can share the same six lists and organize them completely differently, and neither of you disturbs the other. The same is true of hearting a list to pin it to the top, and of manually dragging lists into the order you want.

If a list is only relevant inside its group, you can hide it from the main view so it shows up in that one place and nowhere else.

Search filters your lists, your recipes (including by tag), your stores and your friends and groups as you type.

Adding items has its own kind of search: start typing and Every-List suggests things you've bought before, filling in the quantity — and, if you track prices, what you last paid — in one tap. See Saved Items.

You never set this up. Every item you add is quietly remembered, along with how often you add it and when you last did, and the things you reach for most float to the top of the suggestions.

From there you can pin the true staples so they're always one tap away, and see your own price history for anything you've recorded a price on — "milk was $3.49 last week" — without a subscription, because it's your own data.

Every person on a list holds one of three roles:

• Manager — full control. Edit the list's settings, add and remove people, change roles, assign items to anyone, delete the list.
• Member — the normal collaborator. Add, edit and check off items, and assign items to themselves.
• Guest — sees only the items assigned to them. Nothing else on the list exists as far as they're concerned.

Whoever created the list is always a manager and can hand ownership to someone else.

This is the feature people are most surprised by. Add someone as a Guest and assign them three items, and those three items are the entire list from their point of view. They can't see the other forty, they can't see who else is on the list, and they can't see what anyone else is doing.

Crucially, this isn't a display filter that a curious person could work around. The restriction lives in the database's own security rules, in the same place every other permission in Every-List lives. The data is never sent to their device in the first place.

Who this is actually for:

• A caterer or event vendor. Share the event list, assign them the dozen items they're responsible for, and they never see your budget, your family's tasks, or the surprise you're planning.
• A contractor or handyman. They see the four jobs they were hired for, not the rest of the house's punch list.
• A house cleaner, sitter or dog walker. The specific instructions for them, without the rest of your household's business.
• A teenager or younger child. Their chores, without the whole family's calendar of obligations.
• A neighbour helping with one thing. Genuinely one thing.

Ownership can be transferred. If the person who built the family grocery list stops being the one who manages it — or is about to delete their account — the list can move to someone else instead of disappearing with them.

• Import from a link. Paste a recipe URL and Every-List pulls out the title, ingredients and steps, keeping a reference back to the original.
• Paste the whole thing. Copy a block of text from anywhere — a message, an email, a website that didn't import cleanly — and paste ingredients or instructions in as one lump. They're split into individual rows for you.
• Type it. Ordinary manual entry.
• Photograph it. Scan a handwritten recipe card or a cookbook page and have it read into rows. Basic includes three free scans; Premium is unlimited.

Pasting and importing both catch duplicates. If a recipe already has ingredients and you paste in more, you're asked what to do about the overlaps rather than quietly ending up with two entries for flour.

Every-List splits an ingredient line into an amount, a unit and a name so it can scale and combine them — but it always keeps your original wording too. "A pinch of salt", "salt to taste" and "2–3 cloves of garlic" aren't things any parser can turn into a number, and they stay exactly as you wrote them instead of being mangled into one.

Tell a recipe it serves four and then cook it for ten; every amount that can be scaled is recalculated as you adjust. Nothing is overwritten — the recipe's real proportions stay put, and you're just looking at them through a different serving count.

Push a recipe's ingredients onto any list you can edit. If you add three recipes that each need butter, the amounts are combined into one line rather than appearing three separate times — you're shown what's about to be merged and can adjust it before anything is added.

A full-screen, step-by-step view for when you're actually cooking. It keeps your screen from going to sleep — no wiping flour off your hands to tap the phone awake — and it can read the steps aloud so you can keep working while you listen. If you'd rather your screen behave normally, that's a setting you can turn off.

Each person keeps their own notes and their own 1–5 rating on a recipe, even when several people share it. Your "needs 10 more minutes than it says" and "too much cumin for the kids" are yours; the other person's opinion is theirs. Neither overwrites the other, and neither is visible to the other.

Recipes also take tags, which search looks at, and any recipe can be copied — so adapting someone's recipe into your own version doesn't change theirs.

Add someone once and they're available for every future share in a couple of taps — no re-typing an email address every time you make a list. You can add people by username or by email, and if you invite someone who hasn't signed up yet, the connection completes automatically when they do.

Friend groups work like list groups: save "the roommates" or "the in-laws" as a set, and share with all of them at once. People can be pinned, reordered and searched, and anyone can be blocked.

A profile photo, a display name that overrides your real name wherever you're shown, a short bio, and a username other people can find you by. Claiming a username permanently is a deliberate, one-way choice you make yourself — it's never a side effect of saving your profile.

Anyone can be blocked, and lists, recipes, photos and people can be reported for review. Uploaded photos are automatically screened before they're accepted, so an image shared into a list you're part of has already been checked.

Give a list a due date — "Due" on an ordinary list, "Event date" on a registry — optionally with a specific time. Dated lists rise to the top of your list view, soonest first, and pick up a badge when they're within a week or overdue.

The reminder is sent the day before, in each person's own local time. A family spread across three time zones gets reminded at the right moment for each of them, rather than at whatever hour it happened to be for whoever created the list.

Push notifications and in-app notifications are two separate switches, and you set them independently for each kind of event — being added to a list, being assigned an item, friend requests, guest invitations, recipe invitations, household invitations and due-date reminders.

So you can be pushed for "someone assigned you something" while letting friend-request activity just wait quietly in the app.

Any list or recipe can be printed to paper or PDF, or shared out as plain text into Messages, Mail, Notes or anywhere else your phone can send text. On a computer it copies to the clipboard instead.

This is free deliberately. An app that holds your data hostage to keep you subscribed is an app you should be suspicious of, and getting your own lists out of Every-List should never require paying us.

Account deletion is available in the app, and there's a public page describing exactly what gets removed. Lists you own and shared with others can be handed to someone else first, so leaving doesn't take the family's grocery list with you.

Five full colour themes, and every one of them is available on the free tier. This was originally planned as a paid feature and deliberately reversed — picking one preset over another isn't worth putting behind a paywall.

Every-List runs on iPhone and iPad, on Android phones and tablets, and in a web browser, against the same account and the same live data.

A new account arrives with a sample list, a sample recipe and a sample store already in place, so the first thing you see is a working example rather than a blank page and a plus button. Delete them whenever you like.

There's also a Tips section in Settings, and a direct line to send feedback.