Strapped by legacy
This
obsession with legitimacy-for that is what they seek with their history
and heritage-may be killing innovation in design. So keen are they to
associate with the past that they are perhaps losing sight of the future
This year, more than any other, has been a year of restraint and
sobriety at the BaselWorld fair (8-15 March), in Switzerland. The
world’s premier watch fair annually showcases products from hundreds of
large and small brands, and is a barometer of the timepieces much of the
world will wear for at least the next 12 months. Going by what some of
the top names have presented to buyers and enthusiasts, 2012 is going to
be the year of “more of the same”.
While most brands have launched dozens of new models and references, none of them has taken risks. It has been a fair remarkably bereft of “wow” moments. Sure, there has been the odd timepiece drenched in gold and diamonds and other precious materials. But that is ostentation more than innovation. Even then, brands with these “high jewellery” pieces have preferred to embellish their stalls, booths and websites with pictures of more staid products.
The
brands are reacting to the state of world economies and their
uncertainties. While the US seems on the verge of bouncing back, Europe
is sinking into the abyss. China is cooling down purposefully, while
India is doing so inadvertently. A new bubble of some sort is always
threatening to burst somewhere or everywhere. Who knows how things are
going to be in a few months? This economic uncertainty has translated into collections that are full of novelties that barely nudge the envelope.
Part of the problem is timing. You don’t want to experiment or rock the boat when economies are shaky. Watches are not inexpensive to develop and market. Brands seldom get more than one chance a year to make an impact on buyers. You don’t want to screw that up.
But the principal problem with the industry is its obsession with legitimacy and provenance. Legitimacy is what the Swiss industry calls a somewhat ephemeral blend of history, heritage, pedigree, success and watchmaking competence. A sufficient sum total of these things and you’re considered one of the top brands. Falter in any one or two and you’re either a has-been or a pretentious upstart pulling wool over naive buyers’ eyes. Without legitimacy nobody will take you seriously, you’ll have lower pricing power and your booth will remain mostly empty during watch fairs. From brands that sit at the apex of the Swiss watch business, like Patek Philippe, Audemars Piguet and Breguet, right down to the three-man, start-up operations that come and go every year, the industry is obsessed with history and heritage. Every brand likes to talk about how it was founded in the 1800s or how it first sold a watch to the Sultan of the Ottoman Turks on special request.
Brands go to great lengths to publicize this history, and many infuse this into their products in the form of signature structural elements, case designs and mechanisms.
Provenance is a good thing for most brands in most businesses. It is a certificate of quality and reliability.
Which is why I have no hesitation in saying that I would gladly swap several distant relatives, and a few close ones, for a Rolex Explorer II, anything at all by Breguet, an Audemars Piguet Royal Oak Offshore, an IWC Portuguese, or Vacheron Constantin’s latest Patrimony Traditionnelle 14-day tourbillon launched in January. These are truly timeless classics.
But for many others this obsession with legitimacy—for that is what they seek with their history and heritage—may be killing innovation in design. So keen are they to associate with the past that they are perhaps losing sight of the future. And, indeed, the present.
A constant refrain among frequent visitors to BaselWorld is that true innovation is not to be found in Hall 1, where the high and mighty brands congregate, but in Hall 5 or in the Palace Hall where the lesser ones jostle for space and attention (an entire booth in faraway Hall 5 can be smaller than the cloakrooms in Hall 1).
This is because the brands in Hall 5 don’t have the burden of legitimacy to shoulder. They don’t need to worry about sticking to codes, designs and values established two centuries ago. They don’t have an ancient painting or engraving of the founder frowning down at them from the walls.
Instead they are—funds and business cycles permitting—free to experiment, dabble, mash-up and make mistakes. A young brand like Cecil Purnell, for instance, can say that they will only specialize in funky tourbillon watches and nothing else, and be taken seriously. Other brands can work with form, function, material and design with stunning, sometimes bewildering results.
They are taken seriously because for them legitimacy comes from only one source: revenue. If they don’t make money, they don’t have an old maison in the mountains to go back to and weep in. They must get up and start all over again.
Many readers ask me why watches in 2012 look exactly like watches from 50 years ago. This is a valid question. Almost nothing else that is part of the wardrobe, except perhaps writing instruments, has remained so static over so many years.
Legitimacy and heritage are good things. But so are innovation and experimentation in design.
The world luxury watch industry desperately needs a Steve Jobs who will drag it kicking and screaming into the 21st century. For now, it looks like the right place to look for the Steve Jobs of horology is not in the hushed tones and grave airs of Hall 1, but in the irreverent badlands of Hall 5.
While most brands have launched dozens of new models and references, none of them has taken risks. It has been a fair remarkably bereft of “wow” moments. Sure, there has been the odd timepiece drenched in gold and diamonds and other precious materials. But that is ostentation more than innovation. Even then, brands with these “high jewellery” pieces have preferred to embellish their stalls, booths and websites with pictures of more staid products.
Time out: Vacheron Constantin’s Patrimony Traditionnelle 14-day tourbillon.
Part of the problem is timing. You don’t want to experiment or rock the boat when economies are shaky. Watches are not inexpensive to develop and market. Brands seldom get more than one chance a year to make an impact on buyers. You don’t want to screw that up.
But the principal problem with the industry is its obsession with legitimacy and provenance. Legitimacy is what the Swiss industry calls a somewhat ephemeral blend of history, heritage, pedigree, success and watchmaking competence. A sufficient sum total of these things and you’re considered one of the top brands. Falter in any one or two and you’re either a has-been or a pretentious upstart pulling wool over naive buyers’ eyes. Without legitimacy nobody will take you seriously, you’ll have lower pricing power and your booth will remain mostly empty during watch fairs. From brands that sit at the apex of the Swiss watch business, like Patek Philippe, Audemars Piguet and Breguet, right down to the three-man, start-up operations that come and go every year, the industry is obsessed with history and heritage. Every brand likes to talk about how it was founded in the 1800s or how it first sold a watch to the Sultan of the Ottoman Turks on special request.
Brands go to great lengths to publicize this history, and many infuse this into their products in the form of signature structural elements, case designs and mechanisms.
Provenance is a good thing for most brands in most businesses. It is a certificate of quality and reliability.
Which is why I have no hesitation in saying that I would gladly swap several distant relatives, and a few close ones, for a Rolex Explorer II, anything at all by Breguet, an Audemars Piguet Royal Oak Offshore, an IWC Portuguese, or Vacheron Constantin’s latest Patrimony Traditionnelle 14-day tourbillon launched in January. These are truly timeless classics.
But for many others this obsession with legitimacy—for that is what they seek with their history and heritage—may be killing innovation in design. So keen are they to associate with the past that they are perhaps losing sight of the future. And, indeed, the present.
A constant refrain among frequent visitors to BaselWorld is that true innovation is not to be found in Hall 1, where the high and mighty brands congregate, but in Hall 5 or in the Palace Hall where the lesser ones jostle for space and attention (an entire booth in faraway Hall 5 can be smaller than the cloakrooms in Hall 1).
This is because the brands in Hall 5 don’t have the burden of legitimacy to shoulder. They don’t need to worry about sticking to codes, designs and values established two centuries ago. They don’t have an ancient painting or engraving of the founder frowning down at them from the walls.
Instead they are—funds and business cycles permitting—free to experiment, dabble, mash-up and make mistakes. A young brand like Cecil Purnell, for instance, can say that they will only specialize in funky tourbillon watches and nothing else, and be taken seriously. Other brands can work with form, function, material and design with stunning, sometimes bewildering results.
They are taken seriously because for them legitimacy comes from only one source: revenue. If they don’t make money, they don’t have an old maison in the mountains to go back to and weep in. They must get up and start all over again.
Many readers ask me why watches in 2012 look exactly like watches from 50 years ago. This is a valid question. Almost nothing else that is part of the wardrobe, except perhaps writing instruments, has remained so static over so many years.
Legitimacy and heritage are good things. But so are innovation and experimentation in design.
The world luxury watch industry desperately needs a Steve Jobs who will drag it kicking and screaming into the 21st century. For now, it looks like the right place to look for the Steve Jobs of horology is not in the hushed tones and grave airs of Hall 1, but in the irreverent badlands of Hall 5.
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