For Quieter Flights, Faster Mornings and Tidier Kitchen Counters | Vol. 6

The Sony WH-1000XM6 exists for the part of adult life conducted beside other people’s phone calls, train announcements and suspiciously enthusiastic kitchen appliances. We think that is a respectable problem to spend some engineering on. Silence may be priceless; headphones, mercifully, need only be charged.

Sony’s proposition here is unusually complete on paper: over-ear wireless headphones with an adaptive noise-cancelling optimiser, Ambient Sound Mode, Auto Ambient Sound and Quick Attention. The point is not merely blocking the world out, but having documented ways to let some of it back in when a platform change, colleague or sandwich delivery requires acknowledgement.

Travel is where the WH-1000XM6 earns its place in our selection. They fold, come with a carrying case, weigh approximately 254 g, and have a stated maximum of 30 hours of continuous music playback with noise cancelling enabled. That is a much tidier proposition than stuffing a rigid pair into a bag already containing a laptop, charger, waterproof and the cable pouch everyone insists they do not need.

The Sony WH-1000XM6 review question is therefore fairly straightforward. We think they make strong sense for buyers after a well-specified, portable pair of noise-cancelling headphones, with Bluetooth 5.3, multiple supported codecs and a detachable cable for passive operation. The minor administrative insult is charging: a full charge takes approximately 3.5 hours, so this is not the gadget to discover flat five minutes before a taxi arrives.

Hair drying has somehow become one of those daily jobs where a perfectly ordinary appliance is expected to manage heat, speed, styling attachments and the occasional frantic search for a hair clip. The Dyson Supersonic Nural leans into this chaos with sensors, rather than pretending our bathrooms are serene salons with unlimited plug sockets and no damp towels on the floor.

Its headline trick is Scalp Protect mode. A Time of Flight sensor measures how close the dryer is to hair and scalp, then automatically reduces heat as it gets nearer. We think that is a properly useful bit of cleverness: an automatic adjustment aimed at a real moment of human inattention, rather than another feature invented to bulk out a box.

The Nural also notices when it has been put down. Pause Detect uses an accelerometer to deactivate the heater and reduce airflow and noise, which seems designed for the familiar mid-style interruption involving a missing brush, an implausibly determined child, or a cat walking directly into the cable.

This is a strong pick for someone who wants a hair dryer that remembers the practical details. It has four heat settings, three airflow speeds, a cold shot, and attachment learning that recalls the last-used settings for a recognised attachment. The compromise is equally grown-up: it is a mains appliance with a 2.62 m cable, and Dyson asks for monthly filter cleaning. Intelligent grooming, sadly, still requires a little maintenance paperwork.

The instax mini Evo exists for the person who likes an instant photo but has developed an understandable fear of wasting film on someone blinking, a thumb over the lens, or the bin in the background. It combines a camera with smartphone printing, so a physical picture can remain a choice rather than an ambush.

That is the sensible bit. The less sensible, and more enjoyable, bit is the deliberate faff: 10 lens effects and 10 film effects provide 100 combinations. A phone already has filters, naturally, but a phone does not leave a small print on the fridge to quietly accuse everyone of having a better weekend than usual.

We think the instax mini Evo is worth buying when its hybrid arrangement is the point. It records images at 2560 × 1920 pixels, can store roughly 45 internally or use microSD/microSDHC storage, and links to a phone over Bluetooth. This is not a camera for documenting every second of existence; it is a way to rescue a few photos from the great digital sock drawer.

The brown version is compact at 87 mm × 122.9 mm × 36 mm and weighs approximately 285 g. It uses separately sold FUJIFILM instax mini film, though, so the charming little print ritual comes with an ongoing consumables relationship. Nostalgia, as ever, has invoices.

Salt and pepper mills are among the few kitchen objects that can make a clean table look untidy immediately after doing their one job. Put them down after seasoning and there it is: a small, gritty halo of culinary administration. We chose the Joseph Joseph Milltop set for treating that silliness as a design problem rather than an unavoidable feature of dinner.

The trick is inverted construction. Its ceramic grinding mechanisms sit at the top, so excess grounds fall back into the mill instead of collecting underneath. Grinding still happens by twisting the base, which means the part that does the messy work is sensibly kept away from the table rather than being parked directly on it afterwards.

This is not grand kitchen theatre, nor does it need to be. The Milltop pair adds a tidy-minded option beside more elaborate kitchen kit: two refillable mills, adjustable grind size and a straightforward format for the people who simply want pepper on pasta without also seasoning the placemat.

There is some faff, naturally. The mills are cleaned with a damp cloth rather than being described as dishwasher-safe, and their 16.9 cm height matters in a cramped cupboard. Still, we think a product that prevents one recurring speckled nuisance without demanding an app, a charging cable or a lifestyle manifesto has earned its place.

There are many things a modern home asks us to monitor: parcels, thermostats, sourdough starters, the mysterious damp patch by the window. The PETKIT Purobot Max Pro 2 adds feline toilet records to that list, which sounds absurd right up until several cats share one tray and somebody needs to work out who is doing what.

This is a substantial automatic cat litter box, measuring 657 × 538 × 603 mm and weighing about 11 kg. It needs a hard, level surface, with 5 cm of clearance from walls; carpets underneath are specifically discouraged because they can interfere with the sensors. In other words, this is not a dainty gadget to tuck behind a pot plant. It is an appliance with a very specialised calling.

The unusual bit is the fixed 1080p camera and the system that combines facial recognition with weight sensing to keep individual cats’ records separate in the PETKIT app. Cats of similar weight can still be distinguished, according to PETKIT. We think that makes this less a conventional self-cleaning tray and more an oddly competent little operations centre for a multi-cat household.

Its 76-litre cylinder, 255 mm entrance height and 8-litre waste bin give the specification some proper scale. PETKIT says one cat can go up to 17 days without scooping, though that plainly changes with feline headcount and bathroom enthusiasm. The appeal is not that litter duties become glamorous; it is that the recurring chore becomes less likely to ambush a rushed morning.