I like wooden things: tables, desks, trees. Sometimes even toothpicks if I have corn-on-the-cob stuck in my teeth. (Clarification: The kernels, not the cob, though I suppose I might need a toothpick—or a pickaxe—if I got an entire cob stuck between my teeth.)
And now I also like wooden watches.
Not I, until I actually opened one of the dozens of “Dear Blogger: Will you please hock my product for me?” emails I get each month. I replied yes. I rarely say yes. I said yes to JORD watches because the email was personable, because I used to love watches, and because I had recently entered all of my writing expenses into an excel spreadsheet and realized that I earn zippo for a blog that costs me a fair bit more than zippo. So now I earn “a watch.” Take that, Revenue Canada.
Even though it appears I sold my soul (or at least my wrist), I actually like this watch. It’s smooth. Likely as smooth as a baby’s butt, but I’ve forgotten what that feels like (thankfully), so let’s just leave it as smooth.
My Jord watch travels well. Unlike my bra, it doesn’t pose a national threat in when I attempt to go through security in airports. When I journeyed to Boston last month to visit my college friend, my watch traveled along for the ride. It came with me when my friend took me flying over Fenway, when we stood in Harvard Square, when we looked out at the Boston harbor from The Institute of Contemporary Art. My watch, like my bra, is well traveled but much more hassle free.
My Jord watch even tells the date, something my brain cannot do on its own accord. Setting the date on a Jord watch is apparently really simple, even though I managed to change the date while changing the time.
It is one of the bizarre truths of the universe that I can sneeze like Donald Duck and can solve my mom’s computer questions from 1000 miles away, but I can’t set the date or time on most devices. One year, I left the clock in my twins’ bedroom on Daylight Savings Time when Mr. Chronos declared that we had to switch to Daylight Standard Time. I can be rebellious. Or lazy. Of course, I’d never felt so clever as I did six months later when Daylight Savings Time returned, and I didn’t have to change the clock’s time. This is a preamble-y anecdotal way of saying it’s not the watch that is difficult to change, it’s me.
Spot the watch in the above photos. (And the shoes I tried on, also in Boston…)
I selected the cherry colour in the Ely series. And not just because the town I went to high school in was called Elie. Maybe.
I should mention that the watch comes in an awesome package, which I kept. And which I can’t find. I did, however, discover my iPod (circa 2007) when looking for the watch box.
In all truth, I’ve worn my Jord watch every day for the past three weeks, which is a lot, especially since I’ve hardly worn a watch at all in the past year. I really like my Jord. Wearing it reminds me that I am more than a human attached to an iPhone.