Christopher Hawtree 

Time’s up for cheap watches

Christopher Hawtree: It has become increasingly awkward to ask somebody on the street for the time. Instead of a smile and glance at the wrist, there is a struggle with a tight pocket, or a rummage in a rucksack.
  
  


A first watch used to be a rite of passage, but anybody whose wrist is no longer encumbered by one soon discovers that their instinct for the time is uncannily accurate. Come those moments when a little more precision is needed, however, it has become increasingly awkward to ask somebody on the street for the time. Instead of a smile and glance at the wrist, there is a struggle with a tight pocket, or a rummage in a rucksack. All this is a prelude to adjusting a mobile and the fine-tuned announcement, "It's 15.51", rather than "It's just gone 10 to three". In effect, shrinking mobiles mean that watches have grown. The revival of the fob-pocket and chain cannot be far off.

A stroll along the East Sussex seafront reveals that over 40% of people use a mobile to tell the time. Where, though, is the watch industry's anguish? The official statistics bear out my street research. Sales of cheapo watches have fallen since 2002, but sales of high-ticket items have risen, creating a veritable atmosphere of chronoporn. As GQ's Charlie Porter remarks, such firms as Armani have moved their business upwards from mid-price watches, and in the current "self-gifting" world, a man who feels the urge to reward himself seems to prefer one smart item to a clutter of cheaper consumables. Five thousand pounds might buy a lot of CDs, but a watch is a clearer symbol of success. James Bond is the role model here: Daniel Craig will sport an Omega Seamaster 300M in Casino Royale.

Such chic resurgence, ironically, owes something to the disposable watch. Two decades ago, with the arrival of the computer chip, the Swiss industry faced a crisis. It was the cheap watch that pulled it through in the interim, allowing Swatch to buy up and sustain many traditional brands - the sort with mechanisms similar to those that deafened Lilliput's small inhabitants when they encountered Gulliver and his colossal watch. It "made an incessant noise like that of a water-mill ... we conjecture that it is the God that he worships ... because he assured us that he seldom did anything without consulting it. He called it his Oracle, and said it pointed out the time for every action of his life".

In this life, nothing is cut and dried. A high-flying businessman should not offend the Lilliputians around him. It is ostentatious during a meeting to glance at a watch, especially a Seamaster 300M, but good manners to turn off a mobile on the desk. More important than any call, it still tells the time.

 

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