How a First Watch Turned Out to be My Grail Watch

One sunny day, while having a long al fresco lunch with a friend during the height of the Covid 19 pandemic, I noticed a slim, sleek timepiece on his wrist. "What in heaven’s name is that?" He took it off and handed it to me. “Try it on. It’s the next Royal Oak, the next Nautilus, the next Daytona!” I had no idea what he was saying, bandying about all those names. He could have easily said, "The dinosaurs became extinct because they didn't have a space program." It would have made as much sense to me at the time.

But I did as he said, and in a quick second, my wrist transformed. All of a sudden, I wasn’t some doddering Umarell looking for an excavation site. I went from Clark Kent to Superman in an instant. I was thin, I was handsome, I was brilliant. Well, maybe the wine we were drinking had something to do with it. I was probably more actually delusional. But the watch on my left hand was all that. It was dazzling. It was the Bulgari OctoFinissimo Titanium.

My friend did nothing to influence me to buy this dizzyingly priced watch. I was used to buying used cars at that price (no longer in these times). But I slept on it for a couple of days. And then I asked him where he thought I could possibly get a watch like that. He had a source, but if I wanted it, I should act sooner than later. For watches were like currency in the pandemic era. And watches from the makers Rolex, Patek Phillippe and Audemars Piguet were becoming more scarce and more stratospherically priced. Others were sure to follow in their wake.

So, I did the only thing a rational being does when they see a precipice. I jumped!

When it arrived, it was in a giant box. One would have thought I bought one of those new Nikon or Canon DSLR’s. My first thought was, “They sent me the wrong package.” And then I proceeded to open it, box within boxes, until I finally arrived to the actual timepiece.

It was featherlight. It was delicate. I was petrified. I was sure I’d break it in the first week, just like I did when I was 15 and bought a Hasselblad 500C camera. No, I wouldn’t go down that road again. I would be patient. I wouldn’t force anything, even when first slipping it over my wrist was a little trying.

Unlatching it once I got it on was reminiscent of the first time I tried to unlatch a bra. Embarrassing. Trying. But, ultimately, successful.

But it was made of titanium. It only looked fragile. I could pry my finger inside the bracelet and eventually unlatch it without worrying that I’d caused a couple of thousands of dollars’ worth of damage to my new possession.

I love how it sometimes appears darker than other times, like it’s brooding. Or in stealth mode. It really has its moods. Sometimes it’s just brilliant. Sometimes it’s just plain darkness. It’s not blue or green or red or orange. It’s monochromatic. Perfect for the street photographer in me. Or the Sicilian, where there’s always a secret or two worth concealing.

Where to wear a watch like that? I’m notoriously kinetic in my daily life. I hit things a lot. I move about like I’m in a bigger room than I usually am. I get banged up on a regular basis. I don’t think the Octo Finissimo would like to be treated like it’s attached to a nail gun operator.

But we were in the middle of Covid. Not much, if any, travel. Not any dress up. Oh, there was a funeral or two coming up – I could wear it there with my black suit and my long white shirt – the one with buttons on it in the front.

But, really? Buying a watch to go to funerals with? Maybe someone will get married, there’s an opportunity.

Work? Nope. Done with that.

It was then that I realized I could, and most probably would have to, wear this outré apparatus in more casual ways. Well maybe not for planting tomatoes or staining a fence. But going to lunch? Yeah, like going to lunch.

I’m still a bit intimidated by this watch for its lanky elegance. But I think it was probably a perfect choice for a first watch. Why?

For one, it doesn’t have a bunch of doodads to fiddle with. No day or date to set. No GMT to adjust. No world time setting. No chronograph functions. No dive watch bezel to rotate. In fact, setting time is as simple as winding the watch, setting the time and putting the watch on. I couldn’t set it exactly to the exact minute as there aren’t markers for all 60 minutes. I could approximate it and get as close as I could. But not synchronizing it to some atomic clock in Boulder, Colorado or Düsseldorf, Germany. Nope, that wasn’t going to happen. That would (and does) happen with subsequent timepieces in that period now known as A.B. (after Bulgari). This super-slim, uber-cool watch wasn’t going to get hung up on exactitudes. No, it pulsates to its own rhythms.

And I fell for it. and in the ensuing days, weeks and months, fell into an horological rabbit hole, from whence there seems to be no immediate chance of retrieval.

Royal Oak and Nautilus and Daytona, Oh my! I need look no further than my wrist.

The Bulgari Octo Finissimo is my Grail watch. I got lucky early on – it just took me one lunch - and 70 years.  

 

 

 

written and photographed by Alfonso Cevola - limited rights reserved