I used to watch (eh eh) in befuddlement the enthusiast as they went of about movement and about heritage.

Even the costliest of watches still had that +5/-5 seconds per day loss or gain. With an iphone in my pocket, besides my ping-pong equipment, I were always amused: the phone never needs adjustment (and if it did it did so by itself).

So I snickered. I wrote them off as crazy; that’s what I do.

Until I got my first (ahem) quality piece.

Listening closely it seems to have a life of its own. Hundreds or so tiny parts moving, turning, springing, day in and day out. A tiny piece of living machinery resting on my arm, living its life there.

It is, put short, pretty great.

I still point and snicker at people though.

Just bought myself a pair of man boots.

Haven’t tried them on, I actually haven’t even seen them apart from that one picture below, but they just looked TOO damn nice. They are dressy but also have a certain Scarabinic tint.

At checkout I panicked, if by buying “fashion” based on a highly stylized pic I’d be sinking deeper into the swamp that is brand- and metro sexuality. The style was impeccable but my approach was, perhaps, wrong.

However the shop, being as professional as their carried classy brands, had anticipated mine and just about any consumers possible doubt. Written in a little detail box next to the boot were a brief, calming and comforting description:

“There is nothing wrong with a well-dressed man who loves his Prada shoes”.

“The better you look, the more you see”