Womans Hour

Of late I have had a number of men getting in touch with me to ask which watches to buy their wives. This is one of those perennial questions that has vexed mankind ever since, well the invention of time. You can just imagine Marc Antony fretting about what sort of sundial to buy Cleopatra for her birthday, peacock dress or Raleigh casting confusedly around whatever it was that late 16th-century London had in answer to Cartier in search of a suitably glamorous time-telling gewgaw for Queen Elizabeth I.
The problem with buying watches for women is that the issue of timepieces is one of the great faultlines in the whole Mars/Venus relationship thing. Watches are the kind of items that men look to for a little bit of welcome complication; a minute repeater here, a tourbillon there and bridesmaid dress colours a perpetual calendar somewhere else. Men who like watches tend to like them to perform all sorts of bravura feats of horological ingenuity that really have very little to do with life in the 21st century.
Women, on the other hand, tend to like a watch that tells the time with a degree of reliability and accuracy and, if the watch is being worn with a long dress, there is a requirement that it does so with the assistance of a few carats of diamonds. This has meant that jewellers have traditionally made the sort of watches that women want to wear; I have yet to meet a woman, shirt dress pattern who would turn down a Cartier watch. Indeed, it strikes me that some of the most well-pricedinteresting vintage Cartiers are the women s jewellery watches of the mid-20th centurywhich also satisfy movement snobs: the innards of these watches tend to be supplied by the likes of Jaeger LeCoultre.

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