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Wayne Sutton's avatar

I completely understand both of your perspectives about watches being a guilty pleasure, but I’d like to offer another idea about their mass appeal and the broader acceptance of the wristwatch as we know it.

As an artist, sculptor, and silversmith, I’ve wrestled with similar feelings. Early in my career, I struggled with the notion that my clients were motivated by vanity when they chose to possess and wear one of my decorative creations. That changed after I visited the Motorcycle Exhibit at the Guggenheim Museum in New York a few years ago. Something primal clicked in my brain as I found myself overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the motorcycle—its sinuous lines, curvilinear forms, raw power, and the sense of speed that demands delicate control. In that moment, it became as aesthetically powerful to me as the beauty of the female form.

To this day, I still don’t fully understand my attraction—but I now understand why people adorn themselves with jewelry, tattoos, certain clothes, or drive a specific car. We’re drawn to objects that speak to us, just as we’re drawn to our significant others, sunsets, or the elegance of the golden ratio. The list goes on.

A watch, then, is decoration on a much deeper level. Our attraction to shape, color, and proportion is a fundamental part of human nature. I can’t fully explain why the Speedmaster might be the most perfectly balanced dial ever created—any more than I can explain the smile of the Mona Lisa. Some things are simply works of art: mysterious, beautiful, and compelling. And I believe we don’t need to crack the code to appreciate one of the most accessible art form of all—something we can wear on the wrist. Guilty Pleasure?

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