I have not worn a functional watch in about ten years, since my first beloved silver and black Roxy watch, which honestly more resembled a bracelet, lost a screw while I was dancing and jiving at a Depeche Mode concert. Adolescent girls are funny and bizarre creatures; I was completely confident and insistent on forging my own musical and cultural aesthetics, yet was simultaneously determined to have a watch made by superficial brand all the other girls proudly donned. At least I was consistent in my stubborn fervor. Normally, I am really distraught when anything I own accidentally breaks, particularly items I use on a daily basis, no matter their cost or immateriality, but, the glory of seeing one of my favorite and most soul-formative bands ever perform live definitely helped to quell the typical, uncontrollable, and ridiculous anxiety of loss. Ever since, I have not quite been able to find a watch that I admire enough to actually wear and use daily, though, to be fair, with the heavy reliance on cell phones, my interest in replacing this once necessity has waned. So, perhaps my subconscious was more brutally wounded than I initially imagined, my wrist naked and alone for these many years.
Lately, my tastes for time pieces have altered quite notably; rather than something small, dainty, metallic, chain-like, a tool guised as a bracelet, I prefer clean and bold and heavy with a masculine tinge. A leather band, a broad and simple face. While perusing and falling deep within the virtual vortex of online sartorial inspiration, I discovered this specimen. Perfection. Unfortunately, my recent, comparatively lavish vacation to South Africa put quite a dent in my checking account, so, for now, this accessory will remain a mirage in the distance.
(image taken from Daniel Wellington)