Midway through last month my watch broke, the one I wear for gardening and to work. I was annoyed at the time, as I hadn't planned on buying a new watch. (There used to be a fad, now mercifully apparently ended, for politicians, generally from the right of centre, to spend a week living on benefits, at the end of which they would proclaim that it was not that hard, if you were organised. In that week they never seemed to suffer from the failure of key capital assets, like their shoes falling apart or their watch breaking).
I read an article by Giles Coren recently and discovered that apparently it is very old-fashioned, not to say downright fuddy-duddy, to have a watch at all. Apparently young people (that use the interweb) tell the time from their smart phones, and talking to a young colleague I discovered that she never has a watch, and depends on her phone to tell the time, though she says this is because something about her causes every watch she has ever possessed to stop working. One of my other colleagues, no longer so young, never has a watch for the same reason, but relies on her own internal clock plus asking people what the time is. Actually, even my ancient non-smart Nokia 1100 has a clock on it, that keeps more or less accurate time. It's just that I don't carry the Nokia with me everywhere. That again marks me out as hopelessly out of step with modern living. When I'm at work, I shouldn't be taking personal calls anyway so I don't need it, plus my relationships don't seem to function on the basis of regular intra-day contact. If I take it into the garden with me it will probably get wet, lost or broken, so unless I'm expecting an urgent call I don't bother.
Anyway, I like watches. For daily life, mostly outdoor, I like having something light, that straps to my arm, that won't get lost and doesn't mind being got wet, that tells the time. I don't mind that it can't do texts, or phone calls, or surf the internet, play music, locate the nearest tapas bar, function as a diary, or let me play video games. Reading the Guardian (on-line) I was greatly taken with a Swiss Railway watch that kept popping up as a readers' offer. I had never previously heard of such a thing, but something about the plain round white dial and jaunty red second hand hit my rare acquisitive streak (or at least, it is not that rare but usually confined to plants, books and music). When my old watch died a Swiss Railway watch seemed the perfect candidate to replace it. Cheap plastic watches are a snare and a delusion for gardening. They mist up, and the cheapy strap breaks. A good watch, even when somewhat scratched and battered, still looks good. And it works, and is comfortable.
I read up on Swiss Railway watches, and discovered that they are based on a Swiss Railway clock, and are actually made in Switzerland (that well know bastion of cheap wage manufacturing. Remind me again why we can't make decent quality consumer goods in this country). They are Design Icons, bought by and exhibitied in Design Museums. Deal done. I wanted one. The Guardian readers' offer was twenty quid cheaper than anywhere else, and anyway, it was their idea. I ordered one on-line, and got a nice email acknowledging my order and assuring me that my card would not be debited until the watch was despatched. Guardian readers' offer goods were normally despatched withing ten working days, except for live plants which might take up to twenty-eight days. I spent two weeks without a watch, which was inconvenient at work. Unkind things get written about clock-watching shop assistants, but actually going through a whole working day never knowing what time it is, or how long until you open, or shut, or whether somebody should have gone for their lunch break by now, is jolly inconvenient. Ten working days came and went and no watch arrived. The Systems Administrator was not at all sympathetic, and said that I ought to know that readers' offers were apt to take a long time to fulfil, and it wasn't like buying things on Amazon. I said that I never bought things from readers' offers, and how long could it take to put a watch in a padded envelope. I emailed the Guardian readers' offer watch distributors, asking how long the watch would take to reach me, and went through another working watchless weekend. They replied the next week saying that the watch was out of stock, but not to worry because they woudn't charge me until it was despatched. I asked how long that would be, given that I wanted it now, immediately, on a daily basis to tell the time, not as an occassional style accessory. They replied (fairly promptly, to be fair to them) that they hoped to have new stocks in their warehouse within eight to fourteen days. I wondered if I had to add the up to ten working days to that, and why they hadn't told me when I placed the original order that the watch was out of stock, expected restocking time 3-4 weeks.
Then I cancelled the Guardian readers' offer and bought the watch from Amazon. It cost twenty quid more, and it arrived in two days. It is very nice. It has a red strap and weighs 18g and is only 8mm thick and water resistant to 30m. I don't have the least intention of diving to even one metre, let alone 30, but that should mean it doesn't steam up when I wear it in the rain. It is guaranteed for two years, and I will probably even go to a Mondaine stockist when it needs a new battery or strap.
*Taken from a model business letter in How to Run A Bassoon Factory, or Business Explained (1934) by Nigel Balchin, a now sadly overlooked writer. You can buy a used copy on Amazon. It will cost you about as much as a Swiss Railway watch.
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