Worn & Wound
Collecting: the Records Explain the Watches
If you follow me on Instagram, or if you know me in the real world, you’re probably aware that I’m currently in the uncomfortable but exciting process of packing up my life into a neverending series of cardboard boxes, destined for a moving truck. After several years of becoming far too well acquainted with members of the Amtrak Acela crew, I’ve decided to put those relationships on hold, and relocate to New York City. I signed a lease on a too small, too expensive Brooklyn apartment, and I honestly cannot wait to live in it. It’ll be a great opportunity to work more closely with my Worn & Wound colleagues who I see primarily in Google Meet windows and fleetingly on my office visits and to experience the watch industry from the center of it in the United States. It’ll also be fun to finally have a direct flight to Geneva (and so many other places – I will not miss you Logan International) and to have access to any kind of dumpling whenever I want. But moving itself is not fun, and as I’ve gone through the mental and now very real exercise of figuring out what to keep and take with me, sell or give away, discard to the dumpster, or store temporarily in my childhood home with my very kind parents, I’ve thought a lot about collecting, the stuff we acquire, and how it shapes us and moves with us (or not) through life. It goes without saying, I hope, that my watches are coming with me. They are small and easy to transport, and while I’ve sold a handful of ...
