Why The Insta360 GO 3S Is The Camera To Take Along | Vol. 22

A lot of modern life apparently requires proof that it happened: the bike ride, the dog walk, the chaotic cooking attempt, the trip where everyone swore they would take more photos. Carrying a proper camera for every one of these occasions is sensible in theory and wildly optimistic in practice. The Insta360 GO 3S 64GB exists for the moments where a tiny camera is far more likely to make it out of the bag.

We think this is the clearest version of the tiny-vlogging-camera idea because it pairs a roughly 39.1 g camera with an Action Pod rather than asking one miniature gadget to do absolutely everything. The camera records standard video up to 4K/30fps, while the pod adds a screen, power, and remote preview. With the camera removed, that preview and remote control work at up to approximately 5 m, though Insta360 notes that preview quality drops at range.

The 64GB version has about 59.6GB available for footage. That is a perfectly reasonable amount for someone filming purposeful snippets, travel days, or hands-free point-of-view clips. It is less comforting for the person who records every coffee, corridor, and mildly interesting pigeon, then postpones file management until their phone starts sending passive-aggressive storage alerts.

There is a proper split between the camera and its pod, and buyers should take it seriously. The standalone camera is waterproof to 10 m with the included Lens Guard installed; the Action Pod is merely IPX4 splash-resistant. The tiny bit may join the swim, but its screen-equipped accomplice should stay safely on shore.

The ordinary computer mouse has enjoyed a remarkably long run as the default desk pebble: flat, familiar, and quietly blamed for every unpleasant hour spent nudging cells around a spreadsheet. The Logitech Lift Vertical Ergonomic Mouse makes a more intentional case for itself, with a vertical ergonomic form and a name that politely suggests your desk setup might deserve better than whatever came free with an old computer.

We picked it because its appeal is refreshingly concrete. It is wireless, offers Bluetooth or Logi Bolt USB receiver connectivity, and is listed as compatible with Windows, macOS, and iPadOS. That matters in the modern home office, where a work laptop, personal computer, and tablet can occupy one small desk like reluctant flatmates.

The Lift also keeps its feature list disciplined. Quiet clicks are a thoughtful detail for shared rooms and video calls, while four buttons avoid the alarming sensation that you have accidentally purchased cockpit controls. Logitech’s Logi Options+ supports customization on Windows and macOS, giving the mouse some room to adapt without turning routine pointer work into a hobby project.

There is a limit to the charm, and it is an honest one: four buttons are four buttons. People who build their days around layers of mouse shortcuts may find that restraint irritating. For everyone else, we think the Logitech Lift earns its spot as a practical, calmer-looking answer to the slightly absurd task of steering a tiny arrow around all day.

A wallet tracker is a wonderfully specific admission that modern life contains too many thin, expensive rectangles capable of vanishing between the front door and the coffee shop. The Tile by Life360 Slim is for the wallet that slips behind the sofa, the passport that migrates into a tote bag, and the luggage tag that becomes suddenly important at precisely the worst airport moment.

We like this as the sensible, low-drama member of a tracker collection. The selected Canadian version is a black 1-pack, and it is explicitly aimed at wallets, luggage tags and passports rather than turning every household object into a tiny surveillance operation. One Tile for the thing that would cause the largest amount of swearing is a fairly rational place to start.

Its headline practical advantage is platform flexibility. The 2024 Tile Slim works with the Life360 app on iOS and Android, so it does not force a mixed-phone household into an awkward summit meeting about whose ecosystem gets to win. Tile states a Bluetooth range of up to 350 ft, which gives the locator a useful local-search remit without inviting fantasies of satellite-grade rescue missions.

There is also phone finder functionality in the listing, a pleasing reversal of the usual arrangement: the wallet can now contribute to locating the phone that was supposedly helping locate the wallet. We would file that under modern cooperation, alongside shared calendars and pretending the laundry basket is a filing system.

Bathroom mirrors are often recruited into jobs they were never designed for: applying eyeliner before work, dealing with a rogue chin hair, and deciding whether that foundation actually matches or merely survives under one yellowish ceiling bulb. The simplehuman Sensor Mirror Trio is a more deliberate answer to that domestic nonsense, putting three magnification levels and adjustable lighting into one rechargeable makeup mirror.

We think its appeal is less about turning grooming into a space programme than avoiding the usual scatter of kit: a normal mirror, a magnifying mirror, a lamp, and the phone flashlight deployed at an angle that makes everyone look faintly haunted. The Trio offers 1x for the broad view, 5x for detail, and 10x for the bits of one’s face that perhaps did not need a board meeting.

Lighting is the clever centre of the proposition. Brightness adjusts continuously from 100 to 800 lux, and the mirror offers settings described as full sunlight and true-to-life candlelight. It also has a 95 CRI and uses micro-reflectors with surgical-grade LEDs to distribute full-spectrum light evenly—useful credentials for makeup application, where an innocent-looking shade mismatch can make the commute unexpectedly theatrical.

This is the sensible complementary choice for someone who wants a dedicated beauty mirror without dragging another charger permanently across the counter. The battery is rated for up to five weeks per charge, while the activation sensor simply asks for a hand held 4 to 6 inches in front of it. A tiny ritual, admittedly, but less undignified than waving at a dark mirror as though it owes you rent.

The Shashibo Shape Shifting Box addresses a very modern little itch: the need to keep one’s hands busy without adding another pointless object to the desk, sofa, or backpack. It is a magnetic puzzle cube, described as a STEM sensory fidget toy, that can transform into more than 100 shapes. A cube with career ambitions, basically.

We picked it because most fidget objects have one trick, performed forever. Shashibo at least asks for a bit of attention in return. The selected Spaced Out version combines a puzzle-like format with ultra-strong magnets, aimed broadly at kids, teens, and adults. That makes it an unusually flexible present choice, although “broadly aimed” is not the same thing as universally loved.

There is a pleasingly niche charm to a box that refuses to remain a box. It can live among hobby items rather than being treated as a serious educational instrument in a blazer. The STEM label is part of the listing, but the practical proposition is simpler: it is a small, shape-changing object for someone who likes folding, arranging, and seeing where the magnets lead.

Our reservation is equally simple. This is not passive entertainment, and the many possible shapes may read as possibility to one person and as a tiny angular obligation to another. We think that risk is precisely why it earns a place here: it is a playful curveball with a real point of view, not generic shelf filler.