For Long Desk Days, Warm Commutes and Proper Evenings In | Vol. 11

Office chairs are usually bought at the precise moment the old one develops a squeak, a lean, or the moral character of a wobbly pub stool. Then comes the mildly absurd task of choosing a replacement from a sea of black mesh and optimistic words about posture. We chose the SIHOO Doro S300 because it makes a concrete case through adjustment rather than vague ergonomic incense.

Its centrepiece is an anti-gravity recline mechanism using aerospace-grade glass-fibre elastic plates, with three stated positions at 100°, 110° and 130°. Add dual dynamic lumbar pads, a five-position telescopic backrest and armrests with six types of adjustment, and this is clearly intended for the person whose desk setup has become a long-term tenancy.

The S300 is specified for users from 150 to 190 cm tall, which is refreshingly useful information in a category that often treats the human body as a decorative afterthought. Its Italian velvet mesh is woven with DuPont elastomers and sits on a four-spring suspension system; the specifications suggest a chair built around flexible support rather than one fixed pose all day.

There is, naturally, some domestic reality to consider. At 26.2 kg, this is not a dainty little perch to wheel between the dining table and the spare room whenever a video call appears. But for a dedicated workspace, we think the Doro S300 is a properly considered ergonomic office chair: complicated in the useful way, like a good Swiss Army knife, only with fewer opportunities to cut yourself.

Chess is already a game in which two people can sit quietly while conducting a low-level diplomatic incident across a table. Skyline Chess has at least had the decency to make the diplomatic incident explicit with the London vs New York Special Edition. There are easier ways to choose a chess set, naturally. They are also rather less likely to provoke a conversation before anyone has even sacrificed a bishop.

We think this is a pleasingly specific addition for the person whose idea of a sensible home object includes a board game with a geographical thesis. The product’s identity is clear: London versus New York, presented as a special edition rather than a generic set that could have wandered in from any waiting room. That makes it more of a deliberate object, and less of an emergency present purchased by somebody who has just remembered that their brother “likes chess”.

The validated UK listing also specifies a folding playing board. This matters because a chess set that must occupy a permanent patch of table can turn a flat into a museum exhibit remarkably quickly. A folding board gives the set a clearer place in ordinary life: out for a game, then away again before dinner, paperwork, or the usual accumulation of chargers and unopened post takes over.

There is a trade-off, as there usually is with a themed special edition. The London-versus-New York idea is not background decoration; it is the reason to choose this version. Our verdict is therefore uncomplicated: pick it for the city-facing premise and the folding-board practicality, not because you merely require something on which to play chess.

There are two sorts of wine opener: the sort that lives in a kitchen drawer beside a tired peeler, and the sort that arrives prepared to make uncorking look like an adult has planned the evening. We think the L’Atelier du Vin Oeno Motion Wood & Black belongs firmly in the latter camp, which is mildly ridiculous and also rather the point.

This is a vertical-lever corkscrew, reference 95512, built around a compact 18 cm × 7 cm × 3 cm form. A lever mechanism is intended to make bottle opening quick and easy, while the ergonomic handle is designed for a secure, comfortable grip. It tackles an oddly persistent domestic nuisance: the supposedly relaxing bottle that begins with foil scraps, an awkward spiral and everyone pretending not to watch.

The useful bit is that the Oeno Motion does not merely bring a smart black-and-walnut finish to the sideboard. It includes its foil cutter, is designed for most wine-bottle neck diameters, and has a treated-steel replacement spiral built into the overall proposition. Someone has thought beyond the ceremonial first pull, which is pleasingly rare in objects that look this pleased with themselves.

At 400 g, it is not pretending to be an emergency picnic tool. We selected it for a home bar, dinner table or gift-worthy bottle-opening station: a deliberately handsome piece of wine paraphernalia that earns its countertop drama with practical details.

The Sony REON POCKET 5 Sensing Kit addresses a peculiarly contemporary indignity: one person’s perfectly normal commute is another person’s private furnace. Packed trains, stuffy offices and a brisk walk followed by a blast of indoor heating have made getting dressed feel like an amateur weather-modelling exercise.

This is a wearable cooler and warmer designed to sit at the neck using the supplied Neckband 4, with a SUS316L stainless-steel contact section. The RNPK-5T sensing kit also includes Sony’s REON POCKET TAG, which is intended to add environmental sensing to the arrangement. We think that extra bit of system-thinking is what elevates it above a novelty fan destined for the kitchen drawer.

There is a sensible ceiling to the cleverness. Sony positions it for daily outings, commuting and light exercise such as walking or golf, not heroic endurance pursuits. It is not waterproof, and the stated advice rules out rain, snow, intense sweating and prolonged hot sun. Britain has, unfortunately, built much of its personality around several of those things.

The REON POCKET 5 therefore makes the most sense as a selective comfort gadget, not a portable force field against weather. Its quoted battery range also varies sharply by chosen mode level, while the kit omits a USB AC adaptor. A small piece of climate bureaucracy, then, but potentially a very welcome one on the right dry day.

A travel umbrella is usually bought at the exact point the weather app has betrayed you, your coat is already damp, and the only nearby option appears to have been designed for one ceremonial walk from taxi to office. The BLUNT Metro is the more deliberate alternative: a collapsible umbrella that closes to 37.5 cm, yet opens to a 100 cm canopy.

We picked it because its oddly serious construction makes an umbrella briefly interesting. BLUNT describes four modular components — canopy, frame, shaft and handle — while removable loops allow the canopy to be detached for replacement. That does not make rain charming; it merely means the object has had more thought than the average doomed brolly.

The Metro also has an automatic opening button, a matching cover sleeve and a stated weight of 385 g. It is not an invisible little emergency tube for a jacket pocket, so its appeal lies in accepting a defined bit of bag real estate in return for a full-size 100 cm canopy.

The UK listing calls it windproof and waterproof, while BLUNT’s own description centres on radial tensioning, six patented tips and a canopy designed to spin through 360 degrees. Our verdict: it is a pleasingly over-considered solution for people who regard getting caught in rain as a personal administrative failure.