Father Time

Written by Luke Benedictus

My father died when I was 11 years old. But I’ve always taken a strange comfort in keeping one of his dearest possessions close to hand. It’s my dad’s old watch that sits in a wooden box in the top drawer of my desk, about 10 centimetres from my right elbow as I type this now.

As heirlooms go, admittedly this is a very modest piece. My father was not a fancy man and this is not a fancy watch. His daily wearer was a battered old field watch that he wore on a stripy NATO strap. It was made by Timor, the brand that formed one of the original “Dirty Dozen” that delivered an estimated 13,000 watches to the British Ministry of Defence during World War II. Unfortunately, my dad’s watch no longer ticks and, despite its family provenance, I’ve never got it fixed. The reason for that is that it’s absolutely tiny. Possessing the slender wrists of a teenage girl, I naturally gravitate towards vintage-sized watches in the 36mm-39mm zone. But my father’s timepiece has a diameter of barely 30mm – too small even for me. So there it languishes in that wooden box, nestled alongside a motley collection of my cufflinks which, to be honest, get about as much use these days as the watch.

Yet I’d never dream of getting rid of it. A parent’s watch retains a rare emotive power that few other objects can muster. I suppose that’s because a timepiece is a strangely intimate device that sits right next to the wearer’s skin. It accompanies the person through many of their life’s adventures, bearing witness to the daily triumphs and indignities that ensue. I can’t quite shake the slightly loony idea that this old watch still carries some vague psychic charge from my late father and is imbued with a touch of his spirit.

Mumbo-jumbo aside, I suspect, there’s also a special connection between sons and their dads when it comes to their watches. At some stage, no doubt, I will inevitably become a huge embarrassment to my four-year-son. Yet right now, he remains quite fond of me and even copies what I do (admittedly, the swearing part isn’t ideal). Consequently, my boy loves to rifle through my watch box, wanting to try on different pieces. Such behaviour, to be honest, is often exasperating and fraught with risk. Last year, for example, I couldn’t find my favourite watch for months on end. I eventually found it while tidying up my son’s bedroom, squashed into the driver’s compartment of his toy fire engine.

Whether or not my son’s horological interest will outlive his passion for fire engines, I couldn’t tell you. But after I’ve kicked the bucket I quite like the idea of my watches ending up with him and his older brother. As a father, there are certain things I feel it’s my duty to pass down to my sons. These include half-decent values, a smattering of accrued wisdom and a life-long devotion to Leicester City football club. But when it comes to material possessions, the only ones I can really think of are my watches. Years from now, long after I’m gone, I hope that one of my boys can look down at his wrist and feel the same reassuring connection that I get from my father’s watch, even as it sits, no longer ticking in my desk drawer.

In the meantime, the idea of intergenerational watches is handy because it gives you an excuse to indulge yourself in the here and now. When you’re doing the necessary mental gymnastics to justify buying a new watch, one of the standard tactics is to establish the “cost per wear”. This equation breaks down like this: total cost of the watch + maintenance / number of days you’ll wear it. But if you factor in the possibility that your son or daughter might also wear this watch in the years to come, well, suddenly you’re going to be able to spend a lot more on a watch which – it just so happens – you get to enjoy for the foreseeable future yourself. Should your wife question why on earth you really need a fourth diving watch, gently point out the truth. This purchase isn’t another pricey extravagance but a selfless act to secure an irreplaceable heirloom for your kids.

If you’re buying a watch that you want your children to wear decades from now, it’s probably wise to go fairly classic – a watch that will stand the test of time in multiple ways.

Jaeger-LeCoultre Master Control Date
This stainless-steel dress watch on a calfskin strap emanates 1950s vibes but packs a solid 70 hour power reserve. The second hand and date window add a judicious pop of blue.

Cartier Santos De Cartier
Two-tone adds a fun touch of ‘80s swagger. But it’s grounded here by Cartier’s classic dial with its Roman numerals and walks the line between dressy and sporty with panache.

IWC Schaffhausen Pilot’s Watch Automatic Spitfire
Staying true to the DNA of the Mark 11 navigation watch, this pilot’s watch offers slight retro vibes and rugged pragmatism with a case that hits the goldilocks size of 39mm.

Discover our special curation of timepieces this Father’s Day

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