I can remember reading a piece in Hodinkee a few years ago by Stephen Pulvirent where he described his Swatch Skin Classic as a kind of palate cleanser – a watch that he could put on when he just wanted to wear a watch, without all the weight (literal and figurative) of the larger horological landscape around him. Maybe this is something felt uniquely by people who work in the industry, but I’ve found, at times, a real need to cleanse, do a hard reset, and just keep things kind of simple for a bit. This Black Bay, for me, is that palate cleanser watch, so it feels strange to dive into the details and examine it with the same rigor as other watches in my collection that are, in one way or another, more complex in what they bring to the table.
I want to be clear about something here: all watches are worthy of a close analysis. That’s one of the principles behind Worn & Wound, which started over a decade ago as a platform for watches that were genuinely interesting and not getting a fair shake from the larger watch media world. But this is a watch from my personal collection (and it’s new to it, as well) and when I think about the watches I own, this one stands out for being aggressively normal, and a watch that doesn’t require even a second of explanation to enjoy. And I really enjoy wearing it. My palate, you could say, has been cleaner than it’s ever been over the last few months of ownership. Sometimes a watch just works so well in terms of its proportions on your wrist that you find yourself not wanting to take it off. It has some kind of secret sauce that makes it impossible to take off.
On a recent podcast, Kat Shoulders and I found ourselves discussing the prospect of which watch you’d save if you could only grab one as your house was burning down. Of course, the real answer is “insure your watches and get out,” but it made me think that the Black Bay Burgundy serves another purpose in my collection, and that’s as the “Last Watch Left.” Imagine a hypothetical scenario where you decide you’re just done with the hobby altogether, and you’re selling everything, but keeping a single watch strictly for practical, day to day use. I can’t think of a better candidate for that job in my current roster than the Tudor. I mean, I love my Arcanaut, but that’s a weird watch to wear every single day if you’re not a serious hobbyist. A diver that can stand up easily to the elements and could be worn with a suit in a pinch seems like a far better option.
Sometimes, even a fan of the avant-garde just wants something simple. Generic, if done well, can be incredibly satisfying, particularly when a watch in that category is surrounded by a bunch of stuff that for one reason or another are not “everyday” pieces. In the “very, very nice, but still under the radar” category, it’s hard to think of a watch that is better, for me, than this one. In watch collecting, it’s easy to get caught up in trying to define every watch, and put them all into specific buckets, or to take a stand on social media against something like a vintage inspired diver (I’ve been that guy!), but you also have to admit to yourself when a watch just clicks. And when I close the clasp on that five-link bracelet on the new Black Bay, it just clicks. Tudor