A snake, delicately engraved in 18-carat red gold—a material revered in Chinese culture for its symbolisation of power, wealth, and happiness—coils gracefully around the branch of a Gingko tree. Set against an aventurine glass dial, a nocturnal theatre unfolds, where luminous constellations dance around a grand mother-of-pearl moon. The scene feels suspended, as if time has loosened its grip, much like the slow uncoiling of the snake towards the observer.
And yet, it is the snake’s gaze that holds you. Calm, untroubled, its eyes neither condemn nor forgive. They simply are. No malice lingers, no cunning plans slither. Instead, they offer a reflection—of peace, of introspection, of something that cannot quite be named. What do you see in those eyes? Or, perhaps, what do they see in you?
From front to back, darkness is a ubiquity that dominates both planes of the case. Through the alchemy of Grand Feu enamel, glass and metal fuse to form a rich, lustrous black surface—polished to a depth that feels endless. It carries an air of decadence akin to that of lacquerwork used in ancient China, which made objects feel permanent and sacred.
Out of this deep darkness unfurls a wreath of golden clouds—and from that gilded haze, a fierce snake, its fangs bared in defiance. There is no restraint, no artifice—only unbridled fervour. Eighty hours were poured into carving this snake. Take another look at the watch, do you see only a snake? Or do you notice the weight of time, etched into every scale, every fang, and every curve?
At first glance, the watch looks unassuming. Elegant, yes, but lacking the bold allure of its counterparts. Yet, there’s beauty in this restrain, an insistence on not showing its cards all at once. In Chinese culture, red is the pulse of life itself—the sun in the sky, the flow of blood, the warmth of fire. Gold, in contrast, carries the weight of good fortune, the shimmer of prosperity. Together, red and gold meet on the dial, not in a clash but in a union, creating a (quiet) explosion of decadence.
The story deepens once you turn over the watch. An 18-carat 5N gold snake takes the form of an oscillating mass, flush against your skin. As you move, it moves with you, slithering silently. Where is it heading, this golden serpent? Towards wealth, perhaps? Success? Or is it endlessly chasing its own tail, caught in the eternal futility of wanting what can never be held?
If the Portofino Automatic Moon Phase 37 Year of the Snake was a study in restraint, Dior’s Grand Soir Year of the Snake is a masterclass in opulence. Set against a dreamy mother-of-pearl dial adorned with a Toile de Jouy Pattern, a beautiful opaline snake outlined in rose gold emerges from a canopy of leaves. In its wake, flowers shimmer from transformation, their petals shifting from iridescent to golden. Even butterflies fall to this Midas-like touch—their bodies infected with golden blight from antennae to tail.
But the snake is not content being contained within the confines of the dial. Its influence extends outwards, claiming even the watch itself. Stainless steel may construct the case, but the bezel has been graced by rose gold, encrusted with 52 brilliant-cut diamonds along its circumference. Here, the serpent slithers between worlds of boundless ambition and the almost-dangerous power of beauty. And as you trace its path, only questions arise: Where does ambition end and excess begin? Or does the snake know something that we don’t—that boundaries, like time itself, are nothing more than illusions?
In the world of horology, shapes are more than mere design choices—they tell stories, evoke emotions, and can even challenge the concept of time itself. We often hear about timepieces being as much art as they are instruments of time, after all, each watch has its own story to tell. Some watches embrace symmetry, while others revel in breaking away from it. Design and functionality blur into art, and they challenge how we perceive it. This is our curated selection of watches that do it best.
Circles are inherently paradoxical if you think about it. By definition, they are a perfectly balanced geometrical shape—from the centre to its circumference, every point is of equal length. Yet, this very perfection leaves them vulnerable to imbalance. The slightest nudge can set a circle rolling in any direction, and the smallest irregularity can cause it to deviate off course. We like to think that A. Lange & Söhne’s Zeitwerk Date captures this delicate tension.
On top of the perfectly round 44mm case, the timepiece’s dial perpetuates this symmetry through jumping digital displays positioned at opposite ends. Around them, a grey expanse colours the dial, representing the ambivalent space, the in-between—the balance and the imbalance. The 31 days of the month marches along the dial's circumference, encircling the dial. As time passes over the course of a month, each new day is highlighted in vibrant red, disrupting the equilibrium of the watch.
To call someone “square” is to label them rigid, unbending, immovable. In some contexts, it can also suggest a lack of creativity. However, in the world of horology, where square watches are a rarity, the opposite holds true. Hublot’s Square Bang is the brand’s first foray into square-framed timepieces, and the limited edition Unico All Black Diamonds, in particular, drew us in. With its all-black aesthetic—from the rubber strap to the case and the exposed skeleton dial revealing its inner workings—the watch is a study in darkness. Like a black hole, this little black box on your wrist exerts a gravitational pull, drawing eyes to its depth.
In keeping with the square's reputation for strength, the case is constructed from microblasted and polished black ceramic, an ultra-durable material that’s almost entirely scratchproof. Yet, there’s a muted elegance behind its tough exterior with black diamonds carefully tracing the edge of the case. Rugged yet refined, darkness and sparkle—the Square Bang Unico All Black Diamonds isn’t afraid of stepping out of line.
Snakes have long been linked to time in various cultures. In Ancient Egyptian mythology, the Ouroboros—an iconic symbol of a snake devouring its own tail—represents the cyclical nature of life, death, and time. Hindu mythology has Shesha Nāga, a cosmic serpent that controls the flow of time by coiling and uncoiling itself. Bvlgari carries this idea forward with the Serpenti Tubogas, a watch that is a snake; a snake that tells time.
The case of the watch mimics the skull of a serpent, while its bracelet elegantly coils and wraps itself around the wrist in two-toned rose gold and steel. The watch blends softness and intensity, exuding both vulnerability and ferocity—one might even call it a “women’s watch”, which is ironic considering watches were historically made for women. But I’d like to think the Serpenti Tubogas, much like its celestial counterparts, can transcend boundaries—even the rigid societal ones of today.
Rectangles are natural frames, they create boundaries between worlds. The shape itself is a creative tool, and has long been prevalent in art. Think about it, rectangular frames are used in cinema to give films structure in a closed, controlled space. In painting, rectangles can be used to reinforce themes of isolation. Recall Edward Hopper boxing characters into rooms, or utilising window frames to cut them off from the outside world. Perhaps this is why rectangular watches resonate with me most. Take Jaeger-LeCoultre’s Reverso Tribute Duoface Tourbillon, for instance. Its rectangular frame offers a captivating glimpse into the past.
Measuring just 27mm in width, its sunrayed grey dial with striped engravings on the case evokes the hedonistic elegance of the Art Deco era. However, the hand-assembled flying tourbillion sitting at 6 O’clock is what draws eyes. The case can be flipped to reveal a different face on its underbelly—one that’s more raw and exposed. Whatever you choose, you can rest assured knowing the flying tourbillion will be visible on both sides of the rectangle.
The Cartier Crash needs no introduction. Its elongated case resembles something that’s been melting under intense heat, creating a surreal, pulled effect. The watch is steeped in irony, which shouldn’t come as a surprise with a case as expressive as this. The melted case gives the impression of distorted time, yet it tells time precisely as intended. As if suspended in a moment of chaos, even the Roman numerals have been elongated and stuck in time, yet the sword-shaped blued-steel hands continue their steady ticking. The Cartier Crash’s rarity and desirability on the market almost elevates it to the level of an artefact—one that plays with the idea of time as something mutable. It presents a surreal interpretation of the concept, one where past, present and future twist and meld into one.
Illustration: Joan Tai using Adobe Firefly