You never ever really know what kind of collector you’ll become when you first start off, and you never really realize what you’ll become until you get where you are. We begin this journey of ours assuming that we’ll remain forever faithful to the path we first took into watch collecting, a chase for the perfect diver, the rarefied chronograph, or even the exquisite dress watch. Yet, just as we now chase careers we never fathomed in our childhood, so too does our penchant for watches take unforeseen detours. It’s a journey; a thrill of exploration, where our tastes keep evolving until one day we wake up from a bender, look to the opposite side of the bed and think, “Hmm, that’s an interesting choice, I guess. Didn’t think I’d end up like this”.                                        It’s the kind of surprise I have when I examine this very moment, a moment in isolation of itself, and the Bulgari Octo Finissimo, in matte black ceramic, on my wrist.

If I were to view the watch in itself, it’s a very alien experience, the myriad of facets, a maze of angles to arrest one’s sight for eternity, and an inception of octagons that would make Nolan proud. All that and it says “Bulgari” too, hmmm…

But if I were to view the Bulgari Octo as a culmination of my journey thus far, a sense of familiarity begins to seep through. It’s a watch that tells the time only, as does the rest of my collection, absent of any superfluous complications, yet it provides a seconds subdial, a feature which I love in my Rolex Bubbleback. It contains a micro-rotor movement, a hallmark of the once-great Universal Geneve. It’s a movement feature shared in the Universal Geneve White Shadow I own, affording both watches a level of thinness rarely achieved. It’s a 40mm watch, yet it sits like a second skin on my wrist, unobtrusive, like my Cartier Santos Dumont, a watch that compliments my personality as opposed to a personality that I wear on my wrist. Its matte black ceramic is the antithesis of light, mute like the rest of my collection, vintage and grayscale hues, yet that same muteness is the quality I hear the loudest. Because of that, this watch begs for closer inspection, you have to work for it, like the rest of my collection, and when you do, you’ll notice something only caught at second glance, black indices giving way to mirror polish against light.

This watch isn’t as alien as you think, and as Bulgari would have you to believe. It’s not a watch suited to the plethora of suited watch bloggers and journalists you see when you search for reviews of this watch, who return their borrowed samples to Bulgari post-review. No, I’ve never come across another person, in-person, wearing a Bulgari Octo Finissimo, yet I wear one myself. I wear it daily. I wear it when I’m scooping cat shit out of Hank’s litter box, as he watches me with an air of superiority, I wear it when I’m standing in the meat aisle of the supermarket, shorts and flip-flops, debating the merits of 3 vs 4 vs 5 star beef mince, I wear it at the pub, I wear it when I ride my bike. I wear this watch all the time because I enjoy the way it, and every other Octo Finissimo, plays with light in a myriad of ways. It’s a watch I’ve come to appreciate because it’s a record of my watch collecting journey thus far, as might you if and when you end up at this destination on your journey. It’s not a watch that’s meant for anyone specifically, but if you’re here then it’s meant for you, and how interesting it’s been for you to get here.