Watch Me

Question: Does the word “Hodinkee” mean anything to you?

Answer:  If you said “wristwatch” (based on the Czech word “hodinky”) give yourself an A.  It mean’s you’re a “watch guy” as Hodinkee is THE hot website for watch enthusiasts. Time magazine named its website as one of its fifty best new sites of 2013, and it features news, reviews and articles about hand-crafted new and vintage time pieces.

I’ve been on it several times because I’m crazy about watches.  You might even say I’m a “watch guy” myself.  I love getting them and giving them. I even like to tag (heuer) along when a guy shops for them.  I just dig time pieces.

I just read somewhere that the New York store Mark Cross was responsible for inventing the wristwatch.  That’s pretty cool.  I’ve got to thank them the next time I go.

And I also have to thank my ex husband, Bill.

For it was under his tutelage that my interest in- and affection for- great-looking, elegant wrist watches bloomed. He made me see them for the pieces of exquisitely hand-crafted art and science that they really are.

A Tale Of Two Watches:

Once upon a time I lived in Baltimore.  (I was married to a very spoiled brat at the time.) My father had given me a very special gold pocket watch to safeguard.  It had been his father’s and was very meaningful to him.

(My dad’s dad dropped dead on my father’s twenty-first birthday.  My dad got a telegram at the University of Illinois that he thought was going to say “Happy Birthday.”  Instead it told him to come home at once for his father had had a fatal heart attack.

This event scarred my dad for life.  He’s ninety-four now and whenever he speaks of his father he still gets tears in his eyes.)

But back in Baltimore, I was entrusted with this keepsake and I cherished it on his behalf. It was priceless with memories.

Too bad that jerk to whom I was married didn’t give a damn.  The watch- along with all my other jewelry- was stolen in a robbery custom-masterminded by him.  He was counting on part of the take- and a big fat insurance check to boot.

I came home from school one day only to find all my baubles gone.  Along with the husband.

The only thing I have left today from that crime scene is a Cartier “Tank” wristwatch and that’s only because I was wearing it that day.

I look at it fondly now.  I’ve come to think of it as a plucky survivor of a horrible assault. (I look at myself the same way.)

But after the Baltimore caper Fate served me up another chance at marital sweepstakes and that was Bill.

Who loved watches.

And he had the taste- and the dough- to indulge his passion.  He appreciated fine, old vintage pieces and gaudy, flashy over-the-top bling bling ones, too.  This was by now, the 80’s and what could symbolize the era better than the big gold Rolex Submariner he sported?

But to be fair, it suited him.  Tall, successful, swaggering, he had the pizazz to pull it off.

But he loved watches with a more subtle cachet, too.  I bought him a handsome Jaeger-LeCoultre that he wore for dressy occasions.

He also taught me about the tao of watch bands. Why some should be metal links and some should be alligator straps.

And he bought me my very first Piaget Polo.

The watch was gorgeous and I loved it.  However it did have a design flaw I didn’t discover until it was too late to return it.  It was impossible to set.  The mechanism was too delicate or too hard to turn or something.  I’ve forgotten now.

But that meant that twice a year re Daylight Savings Time, I had to take it in to T. J. Cullen Jewelers in Winnetka so their watch expert could adjust it for me.

The rest of the time, whenever I travelled, I just had to add or subtract.  I could never correct that watch on my own.

And wherever we travelled we looked at watches.

I took Bill to New York’s vintage watch shop called “Time Will Tell” and he bought me an old Gruen there. Btw, that watch- a 1920’s wind up model- works great- no batteries required.

But my fascination with watches didn’t quit when the marriage was over.

I still loved them and proceeded to collect them and give them as gifts whenever I could.

I bought my next husband, Mike, a handsome Tag Heuer that he still loves.  And when we were in London together, I bought Natasha a delicate Chopard model.

And then I discovered Hermès.  And I really went to timepiece town.

Pourquoi pas?  They had watches in every color, band, style and price point.  Hermès watches didn’t have to break my banque to be awesome.

Which brings me right up to my current wristwatch dilemma.  Nine years ago I fell madly in love.

Nope, not with a man.  With a man’s watch.

It was made by Hermès, had a silver case that slid open and a handsome black leather band.  I was just crazy about it (or just crazy) and so I bought it. But as of today, I have never given it to anyone.

Nine years later, it’s still sitting in its box inside a bright orange bag just waiting to be gifted.

Recently I even asked my son if he liked watches.  It’s his birthday soon and I thought maybe?

Nick looked at me and said kind of dubiously, “Watches?  Well, I have one but I don’t really wear it.”  So I had to forget that idea.

And it also proves that being a “watch guy” isn’t necessarily hereditary.

Tick tick tick tick….

Psst.  Hey, buddy.

Wanna buy a watch?