Camera design spent the last two decades chasing thinner phones and bigger screens, so a company deciding to revive a boxy, finger-length shape from the 1970s sounds like a step backward. The Camp Snap 110D proves otherwise. It borrows its elongated, pocketable body from the old 110 film format, then strips out the one feature every digital camera has trained us to expect: a screen for checking the shot you just took.

That missing screen isn’t a cost-cutting shortcut. It’s the entire point. Smartphone photography turns every outing into a loop of shooting, reviewing, deleting, and reshooting until a moment gets buried under a dozen nearly identical takes. The 110D breaks that loop by design, letting a photo exist the instant it’s taken and staying invisible until you plug the camera in later and actually look at what you captured.

Designer: Camp Snap

Living without a review screen also solves a problem the original 110 format never had to think about: battery life. Screens are usually the single biggest power drain in a compact camera, so removing one frees up room for improvements elsewhere. The 110D pairs that saved power with QuickDraw sleep and wake functionality, letting the camera snap awake fast enough to catch a moment instead of fumbling through a slow startup.

Inside that slim shell sits an 8-megapixel sensor, modest by phone camera standards on purpose, since chasing sharper resolution would work against the whole idea of embracing a lower-fidelity, more film-like result. Five built-in filters let a shooter pick a mood before pressing the shutter rather than fixing it afterward in an app, pushing the entire editing decision to before the photo exists instead of after.

Storage runs on a microSD card, and images transfer out through a USB-C port, a small detail that keeps the retro shape from turning into an actual hassle to use. Charging works the same way, so nobody’s hunting for a proprietary cable or a dead battery with no replacement in sight. The vintage silhouette stays purely visual, while the internals stay entirely current.

Two colorways round out the release: a black variant and a cream-and-orange combination that leans harder into the ’70s reference than the shape alone already does. Both ship with a wrist lanyard and a small carrying pouch, treating the camera less like a serious tool tucked into a bag and more like something meant to hang off a wrist at a party or a weekend trip without a second thought.

At $74.99, the 110D undercuts most instant cameras and plenty of higher-end toy cameras while offering something neither fully provides: a shape borrowed from actual photographic history rather than a generic plastic body built to look vaguely retro. That’s a specific kind of nostalgia, aimed at people who remember what a 110 camera looked like even if they never touched the film it used.

The post Camp Snap’s 110D Looks Like 1973 and Still Skips the Screen on Purpose first appeared on Yanko Design.

Home computers used to snap open like toolboxes, cartridges sliding in for a new game or a new skill. That idea mostly disappeared once sealed laptops took over, but the ARTISAN ALTO AT-101 brings it back with a vermilion shell that looks like it walked straight out of 1984 and a system built for how people actually tinker today. It’s a machine designed to grow alongside whatever you’re currently obsessed with.

The trapezoidal red housing wastes no time signaling its intentions. Sculpted, concave ivory keycaps sit beside red cooling louvres, and a keyboard opening cuts diagonally through the sloping side, turning what could’ve been a flat slab into something with genuine presence on a desk. This is a machine built to be looked at, not tucked behind a monitor.

Designer: Leo Botinelly

That vintage-inspired shell hides a distinctly modern expansion idea. Upright cartridges slot into place to add graphics power, sound capability, retrocomputing modes, or an AI companion, while smaller side modules handle specialist interfaces and individual projects. Recording a demo, building out a more ambitious scene, or reviving an old favorite game all become a matter of swapping in the right module rather than replacing the whole machine.

The standout pairing puts VECTOR, a compute cartridge, alongside COMPANION, an AI agent module with its own ivory-crowned housing. Together they form what the concept calls a personal cyberdeck, one where your context and your processing power both live in the same two bays. Everything from your conversation history to your working files stays local, an intentional counterpoint to how most AI tools currently function.

Five multifunction keys handle creative shortcuts without forcing a trip through a menu, while a dedicated PAUSE rocker lets you freeze, rewind, or speed through whatever’s running, treating time itself as something you can grab and adjust mid-task. A touchpad and four flush cursor keys merge into a single continuous surface on the right side, keeping navigation under the same hand that’s already resting there.

Flip the machine over and the same philosophy continues. Memory access sits in the open rather than buried under layers of casing, rear supports adjust to match your desk setup, and a single screw releases the service clamp entirely. Every one of these choices treats a computer’s insides as something worth respecting, not hiding behind warranty stickers and proprietary screws.

Around back, a compact connector panel handles the practical side of daily use. USB-C power sits alongside labeled ports for two cartridges, additional USB-C connections, LAN, HDMI, USB-A, and audio, all routed cleanly to keep cables from tangling across the front of a desk. Even the exhaust vents get a considered shape, flanking the connector panel like a pair of small turbines venting heat from all that cartridge-driven ambition.

The post Laptops Sealed Computers Shut, ARTISAN ALTO Snaps Them Back Open first appeared on Yanko Design.