I had an out-of-body experience today.
No, it wasn’t because of the CBD-infused soda I got from Marx and Spencer or the jet lag from my 21-hour flight. It was entirely horologically motivated. Honest.
I’m in London for work and to stay awake on my first day, I did the obvious thing and walked down Bond Street, perhaps the most famous luxury precinct in the world. My first stop was the Patek Philippe salon to see the newly released Cubitus collection, I’m only human after all. They even let me in which was a surprise.
Less of a surprise however was how they ignored me when I was in there. After loitering for a while the sales associate told me I couldn’t try anything on, they didn’t have the key… My bloodshot eyes and dishevelled traveller vibe probably put them off but it was nice of them to let me breathe the air in there at least. Thanks.
The next stop was Old Bond Street with its rows of high-end Jewellery and crowds of posh people. My main goal was to visit the Richard Mille boutique but in what felt like DejaVu, security didn’t let me past the front door, classic. So I crossed the street to try my luck with some friendlier-looking security guards. One in particular flashed me a smile so I went over to look in his window. I saw Angelus, Parmigiani Flurier and Czapek, so naturally, I went straight in.
You can tell pretty quickly how welcoming a boutique will be, and this one, Swiss Gallery London, felt great. I was greeted by Wasim, the manager, and I knew I was talking to a real watch fan when he told me to sit down and started pulling watches out to show me. It was like I was at a nice restaurant and the chef just started bringing out food, no menu necessary. Let him cook as Gen Z would say.
The first dish he served comprised the Place Vendôme Ombre and Antarctique watches from Czapek Geneve, both highly technical and aesthetically impressive. Then out came the Gruebel Forsey Double Balancier Convexe Titanium, an insane watch. Robert and Stephen have clearly taken one too many doses of NZT-48 (Bradley Cooper reference), how else could they come up with stuff like this?
Then as if by some divine vision, Wasim wanted to show me a watch that, while not as technically impressive as the Czapek or Gruebel, would impress me more than both of them combined. He knew me better than I knew myself.
Trying The Parmigiani Flurier Tonda PF Is A Religious Experience.
It’s almost impossible to try a Parmigiani Flurier in Australia, you have to either know someone who has one or hop on a flight to Singapore. So when Wasim reached for the Tonda PF Micro-Rotor No-date I was excited to try something new. As he sat down he looked me in the eyes and said in a serious yet alarmingly intimate tone ‘You’re going to love this’.
It’s as if he knew deep down in his soul that he had found the watch for me. ‘We’ll see’ I thought to myself.
I’ve loved the look of the Tonda PF since it came out but thought it would be a little big for me. I assumed it would wear broad on the wrist like the Bulgari Octofinissimo, but boy was I wrong. Like I say to my wife 'Assuming makes an ASS out of U and ME'. Get it?
The watch glided over my hand and melted into my wrist like butter on hot toast. It’s as if the boffins at PF used a wax cast of my wrist to model the watch off, a little creepy to think about but in my mind there was no other way they could have done it. It felt less like I was wearing it and more like it was wearing me. My wrist had become some kind of custom-tailored meat-filled three-piece suit from Saville Row, ready to be picked up by Mr Tonda.
The watch and I were one.
Anyway, as I regained consciousness, I saw Wasim through my blurred vision looking pretty happy with himself. Another watch nerd’s mind blown, I suspect that happens a lot at Swiss Gallery London…
Thin For A Reason.
Thin-ness is often agonised over in watchmaking. Take the above-mentioned Octo Finissimo for example. Yes, it’s very thin but to me, it feels more like an engineering exercise than a watch. The Richard Mille UP-01 Ferarri is the same, it’s the physical manifestation of a ‘win at all costs’ mentality, but what are you sacrificing? For the last decade, there has been a constant back and forth between Piaget and Bulgari (with a late entry from Richard Mille and Konstantin Chaykin ) for the crown of the world's thinnest mechanical watch. None of them look wearable, and most of them are ugly (with the exception of the Piaget Ultiplano Ultimate Concept, that thing is awesome).
It’s refreshing, however, to see PF take thinness and make it practical. At 7.8mm the Tonda PF No Date is a far cry from the wafer-thin group above, but in all honesty, it sacrifices less and gives you so much more. Contributing to the thinness is the PF703, a 3.07mm thick micro-rotor movement that’s served as the cornerstone of PF’s lineup since its launch in 2021. It’s a handsome thing, if a bit outdated in its features, 48 hours of power reserve is the bare minimum in a modern movement. In saying that, if I owned this watch I would never take it off so the power reserve doesn’t matter.
Don’t Worry, The Dial Isn’t Made Out Of Cheese
Surprising, I know.
When researching this story, I did what I usually do when I don’t understand something, turn to Google. I found that the hand-guilloché pattern that adorns the dial and the oscillating weight share its name with a cheese made in Livarot, France.
Weird.
Grain d'Orge is indeed a soft variety with a washed rind (in case you were interested) but it also translates to ‘wheat grain’. The shape of which is lent to the guilloché pattern. Each line on the dial weaves in and out in a vertical style to mimic the look of hundreds of grains stacked on top of each other. It’s an incredibly beautiful decoration that takes a close look to fully appreciate. I find my brain defaults to interpreting a more common pattern in details like this, Clous de Paris for example, but once my eyes adjust, it’s a pleasure to soak in.
An Amalgamation Of Case And Bracelet
Although the dial and movement are both worthy of adoration, the real star of the show with the Tonda PF is the case and bracelet. There’s no separation, in my mind, of the parts that make up this watch, it’s monolithic. I find all the best fitting watches are.
It’s 40mm, in steel with a platinum bezel and the bracelet is integrated. Well kind of, but in a different way than we are all used to. The lugs sit gracefully on the case like they are kissing the surface and it gives you the effect of a break between the mid-case and the start of the bracelet. This makes the watch wear slightly smaller than its 40mm size would suggest. The proportions, the thinness of the bracelet and the way the links articulate like they’re not touching each other, all contribute to a ‘second skin’ feeling when worn.
I wish all of my skin felt like this.
This watch is a removal of all distractions and a distillation of the elements that make Parmigiani Flurier great—no date, ultra-thin and elegant.
PF designed this watch to make you feel comfortable, much like the experience I had with Wasim at Swiss Gallery, but it’s more than that. The Tonda PF Micro-Rotor looks to an idyllic future. One that values the wearer. It’s a watch that focuses on purity, watchmaking and ownership. This is in stark contrast to brands like Audemars Piguet, where the experience can be painful from the beginning. It may be controversial but the Royal Oak just isn’t very comfortable, and the buying process certainly isn’t either.
I’m not a religious man, but I understand why some people are. We all want to belong. To a club, a religion or a community. I crave a connection to a higher way of life, something to guide and protect me. Perhaps it’s all in vain but we watch enthusiasts kneel at the alter of our ADs for this very reason. We want to feel connected.
When I put the Tonda PF Micro-Rotor No Date on my wrist I felt a bond with the people who designed it, put it together with care and to Wasim, the person that I was sharing it with. I’m not saying that wearing a watch is a substitute for faith, but I’ve got to say, this one comes bloody close.
Cya in the next one X
