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Sunday, April 28, 2019

Scrapbooking


The clock radio hisses to life with static, white noise. It’s an analogue thing with a sliding dial that doesn’t quite pick up the frequency of radio stations. Like me it’s getting old. The hiss fills the room but doesn’t quite fade into the background. 

And so begins another day pregnant with expectation.






You know what I think?

I think that we spend far too much time pretending to be what we are not. 

I know what you think.

You look at yourself and think, “I must be more than this”. 

Having dissected anatomical specimens, attended cadaveric workshops, and seen the insides of people like you, I can honestly say, sure as fuck, I hope so too. 

Difficult children often have difficult childhoods. Not that my childhood was any more difficult than anyone else but I believe I spent my whole life growing up with people thinking that I’m a bit weird. Not surprisingly I’ve spent most of my life thinking the same of everyone else.

The internet is full of people like me. And the closer you look the more you find. I’m not special and I’m not convinced there is enough granularity for so-called “personality profiles”. Where some see categorisation I see a smudge of variation. Just as people come in all shapes, sizes and colour, so too their personalities.

Sitting in one small but noisy corner of the internet is the watch enthusiast.





Talking about watches to a person who isn’t really into watches is like talking to them about a bunch of strangers who they haven’t really met. Unless they are stunningly beautiful, stunningly wealthy, or do something stunningly stupid they really couldn’t care less about what makes them who they are. I’m not really into watches either. But bear with me on this.





Some watch enthusiasts think that a watch tells a lot about an individual’s personality. I’m not so sure. It sort of does. But mostly doesn’t.

When I see a person wearing a Rolex Submariner I don’t think the watch tells me anything about them. He (or she - let’s not get pedantic here) could be a watch enthusiast, a status-seeking social climber, someone who got the watch for his birthday, or some chap who bought a fake on holiday but still smiles every time he looks at it. He could be a professional diver.. Or not. A rich man. An indebted man. A business man, a professor, a doctor, or a thief. Basically, he could be anybody. 

The same applies for a guy who wears a generic Seiko, Citizen, Casio, or Swatch, or any of a range of lower end watches. The main reason why the watch is on the wrist is simply because that’s a great place to put a wearable timepiece.

Smart watches from Apple, Garmin, Fitbit and other manufacturers fall somewhere in between. Such a person at least has a leaning towards technology and is possibly fitness-minded (at least in spirit, if not in actuality). And they have a bit of spare coin. Apart from that I can’t glean anything about them from the watch they wear. 

Then there are those who don’t wear a watch.

I think that covers 99% of the people I meet.

Occasionally I will bump into someone wearing a Zenith chronograph, a GĂ©rald Genta inspired watch, a watch - any watch - with a tourbillon on display without being a full skeleton watch, or someone sporting a Grand Seiko who isn’t Japanese. In those instances I might think, “here’s a guy that’s into watches”. Well, they might be or they might not be. These are not necessarily luxury watches (they are not cheap either) but they suggest some knowledge in navigating the history, technology and breadth of the watch industry. So I might conclude that they put a bit of effort into their watch purchase. But that might not be the case. Even more stealth are those rocking an independent brand or a limited edition of an obscure model from well known brand. Those guys are probably into watches but it’s best not to assume anything in isolation.

Let me tell you something. If those guys are into watches you will find them - or rather, you will find those that speak for them - out there on the net.







Ok. So there are plenty of people who aren’t watch enthusiasts and a small number of people who are. But that does not answer the original question. If the watch you are wearing “speaks to you” then it should reflect some part of your personality. Although intuitively obvious this is much harder to plot.

There’s a distinction between what we do for ourselves and what we do to position ourselves within society. This separation is as artificial as the distinction between the fast thinking, intuitive brain and the slow thinking, analytical brain or the distinction between the experiencing self and the remembering self (concepts pioneered by Daniel Kahneman who has said as much). But they help us think about how our brain goes about doing things.

Status and virtue signalling have been around ever since cavemen started huddling together in a cave. They are integral to a complex social structure. Complex social structures along with a large brain and dextrous hands rocketed mankind to the dominant force on the planet. Regardless of your perspective it is not easy to separate such things from who and what we are.

This brings me to the Oris Clean Ocean.



Class. Money. Exclusivity. And concern for the planet.






Oris is a great and storied watch brand but I find this example cloyingly bourgeois. This Oris Diver irritates me as much as the chap who turns off his lights for Earth Hour but regularly drives his overpowered car 800m up the road to get milk. Is that just me? Put that watch on a man in a suit or in some expensive leisurewear and that fulfils my imagination of the watch’s proper context. Tell me that the man also masquerades in a soup kitchen once a month, or invests in technology to replace fossil fuels or meat products, or secretly finances a girls school in Pakistan and my thinking changes. Just tell me that the man has hope, drive and ambition to make the world a better place. This, after all, is a statement watch.

Some imagined scenarios are surely unrealistic. Yet everyone has facets of their life that cannot be encompassed by a snapshot or a sound bite much less a mere timepiece. Tell me that the man has installed solar panels on his house, pays to offset the carbon emissions of his flights, recycles his waste (and knows where it ends up), and shows other evidence of environmental concern and I think I get it. Sort of. There’s just a lot of information I don’t really have time for. 

Tell me that the man enjoys swimming, likes the look of a blue watch, and has the means to buy a nice watch without having to know much about it. Ok, I get it.

Grouping people together is simplistic and self-reinforcing. Yet it’s all too human to revel in drawing up lines that separate us. Maybe we should be more optimistic. For that to arise we need to believe that underneath our differences lies some universality that ties us together. 

A blinged up watch, a funky watch, a beaten up Casio, or a watch with Star Wars’ Yoda on the dial each signal something different to those that happen upon it. Each tells a story about its owner. Importantly, each tells as much about the person observing it as it does of the person wearing it. Ok, so a beaten up Casio, like a can opener, is probably too utilitarian to tell us much about its owner. But if I see a blinged up watch I think, “cool”. If I see a funky watch I think, “cool”. If I see a Star Wars Yoda watch I think, “cool” (hypercool if it’s worn by an adult). I don’t own any of these watches and certainly can’t see myself dropping coin for them but I think to myself, “I could have a conversation with this stranger”. Of course I don’t. The watch speaks to my sensibilities and we pass each other without saying a word. So much for the story.. 

C’est la vie.




I don’t think we keep a good record of our lives. I think we keep a scrapbook that misses details on parts of it, over-details other parts, and just makes stuff up. I don’t think this is wilful editing because I don’t think we are rational enough or disciplined enough for the task. Well, that’s probably not quite right. At the start there’s nothing in a scrapbook so everything gets pasted in. Eventually things get sorted into categories that best fit the world we experience. Any stuff that gets pasted into the scrapbook can be built upon. And there’s always a bit of room for embellishment. Eventually we get more selective but not necessarily any better at scrapbooking. We are always adding stuff but also changing stuff and deleting stuff. There’s stuff we like to reference and other stuff we prefer to avoid. Other times we forget. Or move things about to remember it differently. We show some of the better curated bits to the world while keeping the less organised parts to ourselves. We share, compare, measure, adjust, and miscalculate. 

I don’t see a difference between someone who uses a horoscope to map out their life and someone who uses this: https://au.askmen.com/style/watches/how-your-watch-reflects-your-character.html. I think they are both constructs of the imagination. Yet people who resonate at these frequencies tend not to see eye to eye. Because it's easier to write about and discuss such things the differences magnify and become self-reinforcing.

Noise and heuristics. Sure, it makes for good drama and colour but recognise it for what it is and most people would probably get along just fine.

Dive watches are the most successful breed of tool watches. And the most iconic among them has to be the Rolex Submariner. If you own a Rolex Sub then you have bought history, credibility, practicality, class, status, ostentation, and the ire of those that only see superficial reasons for your purchase. Well, forget all that. You bought a sub because, underneath it all, you are a man who yearns for the deep, blue, expansive sea..

C'mon really? That’s a lot to anchor on a watch.




The thing about a scrapbook is that it can’t be right or wrong, good or bad. It merely serves as the record of the path taken by an individual and it’s not a very accurate or complete one at that. I don’t think we have a great a say in what we paste into our scrapbooks. Some stuff just doesn’t stick no matter how hard we try. Others are super sticky even when we don’t want them to be. 

I’m not really into watches but I’m awake enough to know that Paul Newman’s Rolex Daytona sold for over $17 million USD about 18 months ago. News that big hits the mainstream media and grabs the attention of non-enthusiasts. Clearly some of these newbies have coin to spare while others smell an investment opportunity as the price of wristwatches have blown through the roof (Rolex especially, but all boats rose on this particular tide). What I find more intriguing is the people that populate this space seem at once so familiar and yet so foreign. With the exception of the wretchedly poor, this appears to be a microcosm of the world at large. But simpler. And more good-natured.. Perhaps.

Sure, there’s a lot of role-playing going on. A person who espouses the horological refinements of an F. P. Journe has to diss the showy bling-bling of a Hublot. A person who loves Grand Seiko has to display some contempt for Rolex. It’s the way of things. But ultimately the disciple of high horology recognises that there’s a place for Hublot and those that revere Seiko’s Spring Drive movement respect the chronometric excellence of Rolex. Even key influencers, some of which are openly connected to industry (eg Hodinkee with Seiko/ Grand Seiko, Watchfinder & Co is owned by the Richemont group), appear to provide unbiased and informative content (although they aren’t going to diss the boss). I think that’s because there are so many knowledgeable players in this relatively simple space that things are kept in check. And, when it comes down to it, it’s just a watch. 

In the real world the term “tribalism” is often used in a way that belittles its importance in belonging and identity. And yet no one wants to eat the same meal every day. How weird is that?

I might not be into watches but I’m into other things like bicycles and camping. More accurately, I enjoy riding my bicycle and going camping whenever I find the time to fit them in. My scrapbook has bookmarks for these things but they only make a tiny part of the whole. Because I know what it’s like to be passionate about something, or to love someone, or to smell a rose, to cry, to be afraid, to dance to music or ponder the abstract, I also recognise what it’s like for you to do the same. And it doesn’t matter if it’s stuff that does not resonate with me.

That there is a mutual understanding. A universality.

The rest is chatter.