Think about it. Look at the watches around you. Really look at them. (Nice watches, to be sure.)
But stop. Now look at the lines below. There’s no flow.
Here’s a shoulder, flowing into an arm, flowing into a wrist … all is well.
The wrist is doing a fine job, as nature intended, but suddenly there’s this interruption, this distraction, this round thing that ought to be a focal point or some sort of exclamation mark, but instead has broken the line, in an underwhelming, even disappointing fashion.
It’s as if our typical 23-37 mm watches are trying to hide, for some reason: burrow into the skin like some sort of strictly necessary tick. Or an implant, purely for convenience, that has to be dressed up in gold or two-tone to justify its role.
Here it seems to say: “Hey, nothing to see here, I’m just a bracelet, really. Oh, do I have a little clock in here? Well I hadn’t noticed! Okay, truth be told, Master needs this for time, so please excuse it, ok? I’m trying to hide there.”
The result? Bad lines. Excuse the pun.
Now take your new “giant” watches. The Nixon 51-30 (51 mm) watch, the Kyboe BS-005 (55 mm), or the Diesel DZ7193 (65 mm!). (We’ll be seeing these this week.)
Are these really so giant? Or is that our watches have been too small, all along?
These are the deep thoughts that have begun to perplex me on my recent “watch journey.”
It started with the Michael Kors MK8152, which at 38 mm seemed gigantic to me, and daring. (Obviously I don’t get out much.)
After seeing the Nixon (coming next article), which was even more expensive, I think I secretly knew I was screwed from the moment I saw it. But it wasn’t until after a week of thinking about it that I realized it fully. So I hoofed it to Macy’s, returned the Michael Kors watch, and want to Nordstrom for the Nixon.
I spent a few days reveling in how striking and “giant” the wallet-busting* Nixon was, until I started walking around and, for the first time, paying attention to other people’s watches. And it was as though mine eyes, not me, had been given a makeover.
“Dude,” I thought to myself (I use that expression occasionally to remind myself that I am still a dude, after all), “everyone’s watches are really too small.”
Now, all fashion is perceptual, just like my Mom in New Orleans thinks my “clothes look like they got shrunk in the rain” when I go home for Xmas, and I think the rich townies in New Orleans look like they snuck out wearing their daddies’ ill-fitting suits.
But the more I see the difference, the more convinced that I am that larger watches aren’t freakish, or novel, they’re simply sized better.
(Here’s where we make all sorts of “size” jokes and remarks about overcompensation, etc., which I think is summed up nicely by this pic:)
Will I, personally, stop making fun of people in giant trucks, or on super-loud motorcycles with the muffler removed? No.
BUT, let’s stop again and look, really look, at the lines of the small watch vs. the “oversized” watch.
Seriously, line-wise? Dude, most watches are too small.
COMING UP NEXT: “Three ‘Better-Size’ Watches You Should Probably Know About.”
THE WALLET BUSTER
(*HEY, DID YOU KNOW? At certain very-expensive restaurants, when you get your check, they bring out a strongman, traditionally hairless in a leopard-skin tunic, and he puts your credit card in the middle of the dining floor and “busts it” with a giant sledgehammer, and people applaud as you whimper into your uncollected plate? You can opt for this humiliation in lieu of paying the tip, which saves a little money, at least. Let’s try to get this tradition going, okay?)