Keeping the Dream Alive

When I worked for larger brands within the industry, this phrase was often thrown about. One specific big brand comes to mind. You see them in their perfectly tailored suits, and green ties, or scarves. Professionals, men and women, who had worked in those boutiques for longer than I had been alive, trained and drilled perfectly on what to say or do, how to phrase things exactly right, to keep the dream alive.

“No” was never a viable answer, it was always the question of “when” and “if.” If we get it in stock, I can let you know. Whenever we receive this piece, you will be the first person I call. Dreams must not needs come true for each and every person— just enough to spread the rumor, and perhaps, the myth of it being possible to a select few. Of the 18.5 million people living in the Greater Los Angeles area, how many do you think have made it to Hollywood? What do you think then, would be the percentage that have moved there to try?

So then, it can be said that the dream becomes a guessing game, to some, a strategy, to a select few, a privilege— which is why it works as a status symbol. But for all intents and purposes, the hungry, the ravenous, the indignant, and the spiritually malnourished, have killed the dream for most, and in the absence of romance, a new dream has appeared.

This new dream is softer, more quiet, like a gentle breeze shuffling through the meadow. A calm surrender. This new dream is romantic, harps on the past in almost perfect ways, and includes every aspect of watchmaking that the average collector holds dear to his heart, including symbolism, ritual, fashion, and grace. This new dream features a world of creatives, reinventing the wheel (which might have had broken spokes). This new dream is mocked for its references, and labeled as homage. But to pay homage to the past is to revere it. If the Maen Manhattan is a Grecian-style Hetacomb payed to the titan Vacheron Constantin, then what, I ask you, is the damage in showing reverence? With the manual wind, there is ritual. The shape provides a symbol. The slim, 70’s integrated bracelet style is indicative of a fashion. The price is graceful.

I have been recently asked to define how my generation shops for watches. My generation, with the help of micro brands, is rebuilding our watch mythology brick by brick. 50 years down the line we will be asked what we wore under our jackets on a rainy Sunday, heading to a local wine bar to avoid discussing politics like our parents did before us. We will remember the stories behind our watches. We will regale our offspring with memories of how fun and exciting it was to wait up in the wee hours of the night queueing in line online to buy a limited edition Baltic, or recall a great time with watch friends at a party celebrating a release. And so, we will be no better than those pristinely suited gentlemen who offer you the chance to gawk at display models. We will have kept the dream alive.