Once upon a ticking timebomb called the 1980s, the Swiss watch industry was flatlining, strangled by the quartz precision and affordable nihilism of Japanese watches. Enter Nicolas Hayek, who basically kicked down the boardroom door of Swiss horology and said, “What if we made plastic watches... on purpose?” Thus, the Swatch Group was born. Originally named SMH (a fitting acronym, in retrospect), it eventually rebranded in 1998, presumably once they realized no one wanted a brand that sounds like it regrets its own existence.

Swatch watches, unleashed in 1983, were designed to be cheap, cheerful, and impossible to ignore, like a 4 year old birthday card loaded with paint that you voluntarily strap to your wrist. They had fewer parts, fewer pretensions, and just enough Swiss DNA to pretend they weren’t part of the decline. And somehow… they worked. A design-led Trojan horse of pop culture and plastic optimism, they dragged Switzerland back to the top of the watchmaking food chain, glitter and all.

Now, the Swatch Group owns everything from Omega (moonwatch royalty) to Breguet (Napoleon’s wrist whisperer), all the way down to Tissot (the “I’ll take whatever they have at Duty Free” special). And yet, despite all that luxury, we’re still here, hoarding plastic cartoons on rubber straps like it’s a rational thing to do.

In short: Swatch saved Swiss watchmaking by leaning fully into madness. Which, ironically, is also how most of us end up collecting them.

I've always been drawn to the design principles of functionalism. The Bauhaus movement in Germany captured that ideal brilliantly, emphasizing that design should be useful, efficient, and beautiful—without unnecessary decoration. At the same time, I’ve come to appreciate how Japanese design, rooted in the cultural concept of wa, expresses a similar philosophy. Wa speaks to harmony and balance, and to me, it resonates closely with the Bauhaus idea that "form follows function."

The Bauhaus art school, founded in 1919 by Walter Gropius in Weimar, Germany, was a revolutionary institution that sought to unify art, craft, and industrial design under one roof. Emerging in the aftermath of World War I, it aimed to rebuild society through rational, functional design rooted in simplicity and utility. 

Inspired by modernism, the Bauhaus emphasized geometry, clean lines, and the belief that good design should be accessible to all. Though closed in 1933, its ideas spread globally as its teachers emigrated, influencing architecture, typography, product design, and even watchmaking, leaving a lasting legacy that continues to shape minimalist aesthetics and functional design today.

Inspired by the style and design of Max Bill, Many watches from post mid century, related to this good design that should serve a purpose, be visually refined, and remain accessible to everyone.

In the 1960s, Pforzheim stood at the center of the German watch industry, known as the “Golden City” for its long tradition in jewelry and timepiece manufacturing. After rebuilding from WWII, the city flourished with dozens of watchmakers and suppliers like PUW (Pforzheimer Uhren-Rohwerke) and Durowe, which provided reliable mechanical movements used across many brands. Watchmakers such as Condor, Osco, Para, Mauthe, Laco, Stowa, Arctos, and Dugena produced practical, well-engineered watches focused on durability, legibility, and everyday functionality. These were timepieces made to be worn, not displayed—valued for their precision and straightforward design.

While they lacked the luxury branding of Swiss counterparts, watches from 1960s, Pforzheim are now recognized for their mechanical quality and honest, utilitarian design. They served a wide range of wearers—from professionals to military personnel—and often used standardized components that made servicing straightforward. 

Though the Quartz Crisis later disrupted the industry, a number of Pforzheim brands perished, and history of it I hope it does not disappear.

There is a lot to be said, and already said things. Found Certina through this research. Also ETA and what Swatch made about this companies. I like Tag Heuer, but its antics are a bit weird, although tough watches indeed. Some oldies as well. 

I began the Seiko experience when I thought a 250USD Seiko Ripley Giugiaro was too expensive. And then again, those are long gone for the affordable collector. So I began with the Seiko, which started at 30USD after all the discounts. Lovely watch. I sold it and another set of beautiful watches, specially those called JDM (Japanese Domestic Market) only watches, started populating blogs like this. Truly a nice journey of the Japanese design, functionalism and quality. Oh yes, and a little bit of history.