I had a question of involving watch manners recently, or maybe it was watch etiquette, either way, it was a conundrum. Sometimes when I am hunting some vintage brand or model, I will send a picture of it to Kaysia or Chris to bounce it off of them. Sometimes, they do that to me. Occasionally, I spread my inquiries farther abroad. Recently, I acquired a Roamer. I feel comfortable with Roamer in the 1960’s but I was out of my depth in the 1940’s. I was trying to learn Meyer and Stüdeli (MST) movements on the fly and had to call in re-enforcements. It turned out well, but vintage Roamer is a niche.
The best time to ask questions is before a purchase. Afterwards, the answers can bring regret and self-doubt. My problem involved a friend of mine who also dabbles in vintage watches. It is not his main love, but he has a good eye for old watches. He doesn’t ask questions, not of me at least. He recently showed me a beautiful mid-century watch. I had heard of this watch but I am only peripherally aware of the brand, and barely had seen this particular model. I committed the watch to memory and spent the next few weeks diving into its history and its evolution. One problem that kept nagging me was that I never saw that particular configuration in any of the magazine articles or sales websites. There was one specific element that seemed off. I worried that he had bought a watch that had been clumsily restored, or worse, that it was a “Frankenwatch”.
I have bought Frankenwatches. I have removed every last one from my collection. A true Frankenwatch will be a mélange of parts with nothing much matching. The one issue that I have fallen for is a replacement movement that is not even of the right manufacturer. (Always see a picture of the movement.)
After looking at many pictures and sites containing this vintage watch, and reading several articles, I started to convince myself that he had made an error with this watch. Something was non-original. Should I tell him? I pondered that. In my small circle I am the “watch guy”, specifically the “vintage watch guy.” (I tell myself that I am not the “well, actually…” guy, but maybe I am.) If anyone should say something, then it is the one who holds himself out to knowing something.
I climbed the library ladder and pulled down my volumes of Amy Vanderbilt, Letitia Baldridge, and Emily Post. Surely, these doyennes of etiquette could tell me what or what not to say. In addition to helpful advice on what to wear to dinner on a steamer from the 1922 edition of her first book (a “dark sack suit” after wearing “county clothes all day”), Emily Post had this advice: “Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use.”
(Emily Post, late in life, laughing at a Hublot joke.)
I needed to be sensitive to my friend. Maybe telling him my opinion was just my way of asserting my allegedly superior knowledge. I remembered an online conversation that I had about one of my favorite watches, a Mido Ocean Star. I loved the mid-60’s elegant skin diver look. I loved its accuracy. I loved the splash of red on the second hand. The red second hand was the problem. I was challenged online to prove that they had ever made a model with one. One thing about Mido is that they maintained a fairly consistent design throughout the years. The watch is the Commander now and is larger, but it looks very similar. I poured over hundreds of pictures: gold watches with gold second hands, steel watches with silver second hands. I despaired. I had a fantasy second hand.
Well, a little farther in my search and I found Ocean Stars with red second hands. It looks like it may have only been a feature in 1965 or 1966. My mood did not lift. My second hand was about 2mm too long. The Ocean Star had a short second hand and mine should have only been as long as the minute hand. Is it original? Maybe. Standards were more lax in 1965. My watch is 30mm. It may have received a second hand meant for a larger diameter watch at the factory. Or maybe it was a later repair, an original Mido part but a mismatched size. (Vostok is known for mismatched factory parts in vintage models.) I have come to not care about the second hand. I won’t ever know if it was a repair or came out of the factory like that. It is Mido. Allowances may be made.
I resolved to keep my opinion to myself about my friend’s watch. I did not want him to get that sinking feeling that he had paid for a watch that was not what it pretended to be. Like my red second hand, the feature did not detract from the aesthetic of the watch. He needed to be allowed to enjoy it.
Okay, his watch’s secret was safe, but it continued to nag me. An hour of idle computer time on a Saturday weeks later revealed that my worry was misplaced. For one year in the 1960’s his watch looked exactly as it should, exactly the watch he bought. Proper manners solved the conundrum. Thanks Emily Post.
The Escapement Room 