YOU ARE BEING WATCHED
EVEN AS LUXURY STALKS YOU, THERE’S NO TIME TO HIDE YOUR OBSESSION
My question was well-timed during a tête-à-tête at a horological event a couple of years ago, so Abdul Hameid Seddiqi excitedly rolled up his kandora sleeves to let the cat out. The best-known watch merchant in town wears two watches — one each on each wrist. Not that he takes the mean time after reading multiple pieces, but for Seddiqi — like fellow connoisseur and collector Claude Sfeir — it’s the more the merrier. They live and breathe watches.
On a more personal note, I asked wifey as we strolled to a neighbourhood grocery recently: “What time is it?” She shot a terse glance at the nano dial she wore and murmured: “Don’t rub it in. It has been dead for a few months.” It was obvious she knew about the sad demise of the obedient Citizen, which had been a comrade-in-arms for more than 15 years, but still denied the timepiece a respectful funeral. Dead or alive, the watch is a man’s best friend. A time-tested bond, it is! For wifey, like any other modern keeper, the concept of wearing a watch has outgrown its established function of ticking and tracking time. In this digital era, you really don’t need a watch to read the time. You can simply look at your phone. Neither does anyone stop you these days to ask for the time. The watch, for all its practical purposes, has lost its sense of direction. Still we wear one. And long for a better one. The beauty of the watch now is its timelessness, not time-keeping! Is the watch a fashion statement? Not anymore, it seems. No one explores the infamous back alleys in Malaysia and Singapore to buy a Rolex duplicate to show off at a wedding back home. An expensive fake doesn’t tell the duplicate from the original, but people of late prefer to put their money on timepieces that are unique, that tell the time differently and that tell the world something about you. We haven’t stopped teaching our kids that sixty seconds make a minute and sixty minutes make an hour. Look at it digitally or analogically; it’s still the same math. Sounds so boring! The millennials wouldn’t want to waste a lifetime looking at a classic dial. It’s no more about just being funky, but how to feel apart with a breathtakingly bold masterpiece on your wrist. Remember the now-defunct Munichbased Otium? Designer Dirk Hillgruber chopped off the traditional analogue hands and let silver balls tell the time.
A devout watch lover is like a horse whisperer. The machine replaces the beast and the emotional connect through the love and care you bestow on the watch helps establish a deep-rooted relationship that could last many, many years. You end up conversing with each other in a language unbeknownst to others. It’s the language of passion. The timepiece then ticks to its master’s heartbeat and evolves into a passionate way of telling the time. It chimes something about your personality. It talks about you.
But do you really buy a watch because you want to read the time? Nayla Hayek, chairperson of the Swatch Group, the biggest watchmaking company in the world, tells me a watch is all about emotions. We buy them to gift and connect. So long as the human race nurtures emotions, watches will survive in this world. No technological vagaries can wipe out the culture of wearing watches.
Most connoisseurs I speak to deny watch collection is a rich man’s hobby. They are just being modest. Poor are us who have the passion, not the penny. Sfeir, the Middle East’s biggest collector, argues that the rich may have the money, but they may not have the expertise to decide what to buy. So if you are into the business of collecting timepieces, make knowledge first, then money. All high-end watches do not necessarily hold any value in the future. The password is “unique”. It never fails you. The more unique you go, the better. Watches need not be expensive to collect; they just have to mean something to you. A real watch lover listens to his heart. He collects the watches he adores. Couple of years ago, I walked into an average Boston shop and enquired what best they could offer. “It’s already on your wrist, sir,” the salesman admired the Seiko I was sporting. It had a special place in my little collection and was the one I wore most. The Seiko Premier Kinetic Perpetual Calendar is no longer with me. It has changed hands. My son, who I have not met for years, sent me a word that he longs to touch and feel something I use. There wasn’t a better piece of me than my favourite watch for him to hold. As they say, “You never actually own a watch. You merely look after it for the next generation.” I have passed it down. From now on, the kinetic will be powered by our emotional connect. As long as it pulsates my heartbeat on his wrist, I am content on this yonder shore. My watch will go on.