From Hollywood hipsters to New York subterraneans, the watch has become “the thing.” Or, at least so the major newspapers would have you believe.
Ever notice that on pages 2-3 of the New York Times everyday three or four ads are for pricey watches like Bruget, Hublot, Patek-Phillippe? Heck, in L.A. even the haughty Los Angeles Times is running watch ads on its front page (previously a “no-no”).
Where’s it going to stop? Men’s Journal recently featured a half-million dollar watch on its cover, while the New York Times reviewed a $950,000 one. It’s arm wars!
Now, every good producer or hot new TV star needs a watch -- just does he need a $50,000 Rolex? The problem isn’t that watches cost too much; it’s that you pay too much because you don’t know what you’re buying. And, with Christmas coming up in these straightened times, it bears re-thinking.
Until recently, the Rolex was the standard -- though I never understood why wearing a hunk of steel on your arm made you a better man. Me? I managed to produce some 20 movies with a slightly more subtle $5,000 Cartier Tank watch my father gave me for graduation. (I don’t think he thought I’d make it!)
I recently lost it, and it was only then that I started to pay attention to what had happened to watches.
First, before we commit hari-kari over our inability to afford a watch good to millionths of a second or 300 feet below water (where even submarines implode!), it’s appropriate to review the state of the watch.
A couple of years ago, I was gifted with a Frank Muller watch by my wife to replace the late, lamented Tank. While I’d never heard of Frank (do his friends call him Muller?), I was entranced.
I’m basically an old-school guy. But the Muller was superb and with my blond hair turning gray (you try financing indie films!), I fell in love with the stainless-steel exterior, visible movement and black face with vaguely luminescent, blue hands.
I also learned that, like many loves, it was a bitch to keep up -- unlike even the eternally classy Tank, you actually had to wind the Muller. Every day. Interesting. I had other questions: Who was Muller?
On a recent trip to the Virgin Islands (“Little Switzerland” -- home to more duty-free jewelers than any 12-square miles on earth), I decided to find out. Turns out Muller is a young jeweler (well, younger than me) who apprenticed in Geneva.
To show his independence, in 1992 he left the Mecca of watches, and set up shop in Gethorn, a couple miles out of town. (All right, it’s not exactly Mao’s 1,000-mile Long March, but even a rebellion as small as this begins with a single kilometer or two!)
The point is Muller was trying to set his watches apart from even the laudatory Geneva standard.
