My Rekindled Love Affair With My Ex-Watch.

Or why I am bidding farewell to my Apple Watch.

Found it – my first-ever self-bought watch.

A Seiko chronograph, black dial, red bezel, still clueless about what a chronograph actually does. Hidden in my folks’ spare wardrobe, it was like unearthing buried treasure. Instantly, I called it quits with my 3-year-old Apple Watch and reclaimed this gleaming relic.

Maybe it’s nostalgia kicking in, or perhaps it’s just the thrill of novelty. But there’s something about these vintage timepieces – they just ooze class.

For all the Apple Watch’s fancy features – the sleep tracking, notifications, the works – strapping on this simple piece of metal feels like stepping into a new realm of maturity, allure, and self-assuredness. It’s uncanny, the disproportionate impact of such a subtle switch.

Gazing at its rhythmic ticking, the smooth sweep of the second hand, those quaint knobs and crowns, the glossy chrome, the perfect fit of its metal band – it’s an analogue dream. This is what design’s all about – straightforward, yet luxurious, practical yet sophisticated.

For all the marvels of modern tech, the old-school charm of knobs and cogs still wins for sheer aesthetic joy, in my book at least.

I had my eyes set on a white-dial, automatic, Roman numeral piece – a Rolex DateJust, for anyone feeling lavish. But stumbling upon my old buddy here? That’s put a pause on any new splurges. I’ll wait till I can grab my dream watch, cash in full.

So, farewell, Apple Watch. You’ve been a constant, albeit sometimes pesky, sidekick. And hello to my trusty old-new companion. Here’s to you snugly circling my wrist, keeping time with style, and fitting seamlessly into my London life as well as you did back home.

Time’s ticking, and I’m off!