When you spend enough time with your watch on your wrist, you see that buying the story is nowhere near as satisfying as writing it yourself. It’s easy to click onto Instagram or your favorite watch blog and be sold the story of a timepiece. But once you have that watch in hand, what’s your actual connection with that story? How are you involved in that abstract history? To me, that feels like a hard line to trace. But when a watch is yours, actually yours, there is no need to trace the lines, you’re the one drawing them. I’ve learned a lot in the last 600 days. I’ve learned a lot about myself, about people as consumers, and about what it is like to own a thing. I hope to share some of that with you in this article.
The Neptune had been in my mind in a sort of meditative state for a good few years before I took the plunge. I had already fallen in love with Lorier after seeing videos and articles online (including an inspiring interview with Lauren and Lorenzo Ortega, the founders of Lorier, conducted by Patrick Marlett, of Worn and Wound fame). However, as I am based in the UK and was concerned about ordering a watch from overseas, I purchased from other brands that I felt involved less risk – simply because they were easier for me to get my hands on.

One such watch that I was particularly enchanted with was the Seiko Turtle, so much so, that I bought not one, but three of them. I very briefly owned the gilt and black option (SRP775), followed by the blue/black gradient SPRC91; the first-ever Save the Ocean edition. Whilst I loved the cool cushion case and the heritage embedded within the 6309 family, I ended up selling both. In principle, I loved the turtle, but on the wrist, these watches just did not feel like me.
Following the SRPC91, I purchased Certina’s flagship 2018 release, the DS PH200M. This was a watch that I had lusted after since reading Jason Heaton’s article on Hodinkee at Baselworld of that year, and in 2019 it was finally available for purchase. This was my very first exposure to an acrylic crystal, which would later shape my taste when purchasing the Neptune. This was a watch I seriously enjoyed wearing. I wore the Certina solidly for just around a year when another turtle would rear its head. A Seiko King Turtle.
I once again fell victim to that bewitching cushion-cased diver and purchased the black dialed and braceleted SRPE03. With its waffle dial, sapphire crystal, and ceramic bezel; this was a huge departure from the vintage charm of the Certina. Once again, I realized that the turtle was not destined to be my watch, and I ended up selling both the Certina, due to its large size, and the King Turtle.
Deciding on “The” Watch
I wish I had just taken the chance on Lorier sooner, but the wait meant that the payoff was extra-special when that day finally came. Fast forward a couple of years, to late Autumn 2020. With a fresh batch of Series III Neptunes in stock I ordered my watch. Lorier is all about evolution rather than revolution in their watch design, and I support this. Like the classic watches from the 50s and 60s that still exist in their modern form today, it’s easy to imagine a Lorier in 20 or 30 years which can still trace its heritage through each iteration. For this third version of the Neptune, the New York-based brand had reduced the dial size and equipped the watch with a no-date Miyota 90S5 automatic movement. The slimmer movement meant that Lorier were able to manufacture a case that shaved off a few millimeters of thickness in comparison to their previous series of watches. All wins in my book. I opted for the navy and white. For me, this variant felt timeless – with a polished steel handset and big white lume plots layered onto that deep blue dial.

Lorier stands behind its products. A brand that wants you to buy a watch, and wear it from dawn until dusk, then dusk until dawn; doing whatever it is that you do. I’ve heard the concern that the serviceability of a watch from a smaller brand might be a challenge in the future. But not for a Lorier. This is a brand with enough commitment to their cause that they stock spare parts; for older models too. So, if anybody is sitting on a Series I Hydra or first-run Falcon – don’t be afraid to wear it!
I’m also deep enough into the hobby, having watched enough watch repair videos and read enough horror stories, to be that guy that emails the brand with absurd questions, such as ‘Is the crown tube a separate component to the case for easy repair if I strip the threads?’ It’s a Lorier, so yes, of course, it is. All of this was reason enough for me to put down my hard-earned $500 (or roughly £380 in my money-speak on this side of the Atlantic).
When my watch arrived, it struck me how Lorier had hit a chord with their simple packaging. No fuss-no muss. Green box. Leather pouch. Handwritten card. An easy and pleasant unboxing experience, where the emphasis is on the watch, and it feels like that’s where your money is spent. I find that reassuring and it instills confidence in me that the brand is proud of its watch. There’s no need to hide behind overly flamboyant packaging when the product you’re buying is this good.
I had owned my Neptune less than a week when, after feeling that itch to slide it onto a NATO, I decided to try and revert to the original flat-link bracelet. And in doing so, I scratched the lugs. All the lugs. Now, for those who have not had the opportunity to handle a Lorier in the metal, allow me to give you a brief rundown on the Series III. This watch is for all intents and purposes, your flowing skin-diver case. Adorned with brushed lug surfaces and sides; with angled polished chamfers arcing across the slim case band. All of this set-off by square-cut, high-polished lugs.

I was so proud to own this 39mm beauty. Its acrylic crystal is like a liquid bubble, warm and glowing. Never had I owned such a charming, vintage-infused head-turner as the Neptune. Yet still, in my carelessness, I scratched the lugs. Deep scratches too, gashed clumsily into the lug ends.
I looked down at my Neptune, my heart sinking. It was then; at that moment, that something changed within me. I think, and this may be something that we have all heard many times before; I think the watch became mine. This was not a new watch anymore. It was not to be kept tucked away or pampered. It was mine to wear and use.
Making Memories
Sat here now in the Summer of 2022, reminiscing on those far-flung memories of new watch ownership, I struggle to find a surface of my Neptune that is not adorned with some DIY after-market finishing. 600 days down the road, I eagerly await the next scuff or scratch to add to my ever-expanding portfolio. There’s a particularly handsome engraving on the upper right lug which frequently catches my eye these days. This watch is the furthest thing from the typical Instagram darling. Its brushing is very worn, and its crystal marred. When I look down at the bezel, I’m sure there is a divot or dent which interrupts the fine coin edge finish. The remanence of an adventure past. I consider all the scuffs and scratches as honest wear and tear; badges of honor.
I can’t claim to be undertaking the most daring adventures, diving deep into the ocean, or summitting the highest peaks. But the Neptune has been with me every step of the way since I set it on my wrist. This is a watch that has lived an honestly tough life.

It was late Spring/early Summer 2021 when my fiancée and I took our first holiday to the North-East coastline of England. We’d spent the week clambering across rocky beaches, and hiking through woodland. Towards the end of the holiday, we’d set ourselves an objective to discover a beautiful cascading waterfall, Falling Foss. This all seemed fairly straightforward, we’d left early that morning, discovered that there was a nearby tearoom, and had the whole day planned out. Of course, not all things go to plan. Unbeknownst to us, the trip to the waterfall required us to scale down a vertical hillside; a small branch and some fine rope were our only support. Those close to me know that I am not a lover of heights, and I love falling from heights even less. Regardless, we survived the journey, as did the Neptune. I wore it the whole time.

During the same trip, when crossing a brook within the Yorkshire moors, I ended up losing my footing, landing myself in deep water. Quite literally. Again, the Neptune was there for that, just like it has been for every clumsy moment over the last 600 days. I didn’t quite sink 200 meters, but it was deep enough!
That following winter whilst staying in a Scottish bothy in the Cairngorms, we received panicked phone calls from our families warning us that Scotland and Northern England were due to be hit by fierce storms. Deciding to hit the road a night early to avoid the worst of the weather, we hurriedly packed the car, wolfed down a fish dinner, and headed on our way. Well; it was the blue and bright lume of the Neptune that helped to guide us home that night. As I saw the BGW9 glowing from beneath my sleeve, whilst I drove in pitch-darkness (packed into my Honda Civic) through Scottish mountain roads; the snow raced down. We made it home in one piece after an eight-hour drive through the night and learned that parts of that road home were later closed due to severe weather conditions.

These are all special moments in my life, memories that I look back on with fondness. On my wrist was the Neptune. It makes me smile when we flick through photographs over the last couple of years, and here in every picture, my Neptune. No matter what we’re doing. After all, adventures aren’t all blood and fire. They can be cozy too.

It’s just as likely that I got caught in a sticky situation wresting a saucepan out of the cupboard, bumped my watch off a tree whilst on a dog walk, or caught it on the sharp edge of a desk during a busy day at work. My Neptune has been through it all. The mundane and the magnificent. After all, that is a real picture of what it is to live a life. It’s not all mountain tops and sunsets – sometimes it’s waking up on a Monday and dragging yourself out of bed.
The Neptune was there for that too.
This has been, for me, a year of personal growth. But remember, growth isn’t always an upward trajectory – growth is found in going forwards, backward, and forwards again. Along with getting engaged to my wonderful fiancée, I’ve had a huge career change. We’ve also been on the hunt for our perfect home together. My Neptune has been there at every juncture. It has come to symbolize a period of my life. A period of my life that I will always remember.
The Ones that Almost Were
As this is a personal reflection on being a one watch guy, I think it’s only fair to talk a little about some of the watches that ‘almost were’ over the last 20 months. I’ll admit, there were occasions where I did almost succumb to the temptation of another flier (that’s official watch language now, right?) purchases. One such watch was an Oris Pointer Date, with a commander dial, from what I believe to be the early 2000s. This was one of those that popped up on Watchfinder for a song and was priced so good I couldn’t say no sort of situation. And I bought it. But I never did see that watch, as around 5 minutes after pulling my credit card out of my wallet to order it, I’d already called up and canceled. I wasn’t ready for another watch. To me, the Neptune did everything I needed a watch to do – why would I need another?

The second occasion unfolded in a very similar fashion a few months later with the British brand Arken. I liked the neo-vintage design of Arken’s Instrumentum; a titanium, integrated bracelet diver. It felt like a Tudor Pelagos/ Omega Seamaster 2254/ Patek Phillipe Aquanaut hybrid. As such, I momentarily put my name down for a pre-order. Again, as soon as I imagined wearing another watch whilst the Neptune sat on the dresser, I canceled the order.
It was then that I realized that buying another watch felt pointless, uncomfortable, and wasteful. Why buy another when I’m only going to wind up wearing the Neptune anyway? A little earlier, I alluded to the fact that being a one watch guy has taught me a lot over the last 600 days; about the hobby, about people as consumers. One such thing is regarding how I view the ebb and flow of the watch release cycle. Being committed to wearing one watch strips away all of the inflated hype and the heat from the new releases. This doesn’t mean I don’t get excited for what’s to come. I’m often tracking what’s around the corner from some of my favorite brands (Neptune Series IV looks like it’s soon to be released). Yet knowing that you aren’t buying it, either way, means that you can see these new releases as watches that exist in and of themselves, not in the worldview that it is something I need to own. It gives me impartiality when I’m thinking about a new watch, an opportunity to consider it for its own merits, not for what it does for me. I think that at times, an audience can be critical of a product because it isn’t what they wanted for themselves. I don’t feel like I wrestle with that burden. These watches exist without the condition of ‘do I want to buy this?’ and as such, should be considered fairly and critically without that as a prerequisite.
Many new watch releases are exceptionally innovative in their design, and certainly tempting. But what sets the Neptune apart from these? Well, the Neptune is my watch. That’s not a feature that can be found on any spec sheet.
Another lesson that I feel I’ve learned comes back to this notion of stories, and storytelling through product. It’s been said many times, and I’ll repeat it now; buying a watch is an emotional process, and as such, attaching emotion and story to a watch feels natural. It can quite literally live with you. Nevertheless, I think it is worth stating; don’t go chasing that story by accumulating watches that have stories pre-ascribed to them. We’ve all felt it, we buy a new watch because of the story that is sold to us, hoping that purchasing it will make us feel a certain way, or enable us to experience the world differently by living vicariously through the product. Yet despite this, and regardless of how wonderful a watch it might be, it is ultimately just a watch, which tells you the time, with the brand’s story attached. The transition happens when the product means something to you personally. And to get to that point, it’s important to build memories with these things.
Enjoy them. Wear them. Wear them on good days and bad days and days with your family. Wear them for holidays and birthdays and Mondays. It’s at that point that a story is written, your very own story written into that watch.
What’s Next?
So, what’s next for the Neptune? Are there other watches out there that I might consider? Well, honestly, no – there are not. Maybe this speaks of me as an enthusiast, maybe I am not an enthusiast at all. If not, I do spend an absurd amount of time reading about these little machines. Talk of grail watches is all well and good, and it can be fun to hypothesize, but, I’ve set such a precedent for myself now, knowing what it is like to own, wear and love a watch, that nothing will quite live up to this.
Before I sign off, I do need to make a couple of admissions. I quite quickly switched back to NATO straps after that lug scratching incident. And that’s what my Neptune has lived on for most of the last 600 days. There are a few NATOs I love, with some key distinctions between them in terms of quality and construction, but I think maybe that’s another story for another time. Still, the journey doesn’t end there. There is one other watch that I did purchase whilst I’ve owned the Neptune. And that was a watch for my fiancée. It was a gold Lorier Falcon. It’s the only watch she wears.
If you’d like to join my Neptune and me for the journey, follow along with the adventures at @one_watch_guy on Instagram.
Check out Will’s review of the Lorier Neptune here
Thanks for the great stuff, Andreas. Everything is shown very correctly. We need to love our watches. If we change them several times a day or even once a month, we simply won’t have time, we won’t be able to do it. This takes time. With only one watch, it took me 10 years to get to the “point” you marked… But it was for real. But there are people who wear their watches for 20-30-40 years or more… This is amazing…
This article inspired my own journey of owning just one watch. In the first few months I’d often dwell on and fawn over the next potential time piece. It took a year to feel like my watch wasn’t just a fleeting visitor occupying space reserved for the next purchase. Throughout a year you’ll add scratches and scuffs that reflect the mundane and exciting. Either way, it’ll reflect something and that’s something a new watch just can’t do (unless they forget the ar coating) I love my one watch and I treat it like a pair of pants, in that I’ll never leave the house without it, and when I look down I’m glad it’s there