The watch maketh the man: What your watch says about you

Who? The surfing financier

What? A Breitling Top Time Triumph chronograph

You will have seen him on the terrace of George, where he holds his afternoon meetings. During the week, he is a model modern Mayfair hedgie, whose working uniform is dictated by the social-media feeds of half a dozen modern-classic menswear influencers: Gaziano & Girling made-to-order slip-ons (not bespoke, yet), flannel trousers from Brunello Cucinelli (slimline, of course) and a close-fitting, soft-shouldered cashmere blazer (when formality requires).

Peeking out from underneath the cuff of his white shirt (open neck), amid a tangle of man bangles and beach bracelets testifying to the diving holiday in Thailand to which he treated himself last bonus time, you will see the ice-blue dial of his Breitling Top Time Triumph chronograph. It is a watch that reveals the man he becomes as soon as the markets close on a Friday, when, in his leathers and on his Triumph Thruxton RS 1200, he is to be found heading west on the A303 to pursue his passion for surfing and commune with his inner he-man.

But, his is a personality in tension between his high-powered motorbikes and his concern about the environment (don’t get him started on the state of our rivers). To assuage his guilt, he has devised his own personal offset programme and, come sunrise on Saturday, he conducts a beach clean before heading out into the bay: Breitling’s Surfrider partnership on his mind and an orange-dial Breitling Superocean, with environmentally correct orange Econyl strap made from recycled fishing nets, on his wrist. Back in town, he indulges in his guilty secret—watching Point Break for the 107th time, and promising himself that this is the year he will chuck in the job and follow waves around the world… but reality prevails and, by Monday, he is back safe and sound on the terrace at George.

Who? The art-loving tech billionaire

What? Vacheron Constantin, Unique Creations, Les Cabinotiers

He was previously little known outside Palo Alto, until news broke that he was divorcing his wife of 35 years. They had been high-school sweethearts, a fixture on the organic farmers’ market circuit and thought to have the most stable marriage in Northern California.

The high point of their year was an annual hiking holiday in Oregon in matching cargo pants the colour of Gangetic mud and zip-fronted recycled polar fleeces executed in a daring shade somewhere between porridge and concrete. But that was before he commenced the affair with his art advisor (whatever you do, don’t call her an art dealer): a French countess who wrote a doctoral thesis on Mannerist Art, once worked at the French ministry of culture, speaks six languages (including fluent billionaire) and has one of the largest collections of Birkin bags outside the People’s Republic of China. She has opened tech billionaire’s eyes — and his bank account — to the beauty of art. Out went the cargo pants and polar fleeces and in came the Loro Piana in tasteful shades of slate and cereal. He is looking noticeably younger and leaner since he engaged the services of a longevity advisor, a dietician, two personal trainers (one for cardio, the other for functional strength training), a goat-yoga specialist and a spirituality consultant.

When he is not busy extending his lifespan, he roams Europe in his Gulfstream making offers on artworks, the bigger the better. He was very frustrated when the Louvre turned down his offer for Veronese’s Wedding Feast at Cana —all 724 square feet of it. In order to soften the blow, a helpful curator suggested that he get in touch with Les Cabinotiers, the bespoke department of Vacheron Constantin, which has the rights to reproduce in miniature enamel painting any work of art in the museum (except the Mona Lisa).

The trouble is that, such is the size of the original, that it will need to be painted, in ‘instalments’ on five or six watches. The project could take more than a decade as each dial takes between one and two years to complete and, for obvious reasons, the same miniature enamel painter has to be used for all the watches.

Just as well that tech billionaire has a spirituality consultant to help him remain patient and a longevity advisor to ensure that he lives long enough to take delivery of the entire series of watches.

Who? The young aesthete

What? A Cartier Tank Normale

The young aesthete looks like a fashion model, tousled Neronic curls tumbling over an alabaster-smooth forehead and features so well defined that they beggar the terms chiselled and sculpted. He could have walked straight out of a Dolce & Gabbana advertisement.

But his is not the world of walking the runway or featuring in big-budget fragrance advertisements; instead, he describes himself as an old soul in a (beautiful) young body. He was born into a celebrated northern-Italian industrial dynasty and, after studying (and partying) at Le Rosey (the jet-set Eton), where he learned how to ski gracefully and order Champagne with aplomb at the GreenGo nightclub in the Gstaad Palace, he dutifully followed his family’s wishes and read International Economics and Management at the prestigious Bocconi university in Milan, where his father and grandfather had studied.

At least, he tried, but he found himself profoundly unmoved by the dynamics of globalisation and the role of cultural differences at central banks in determining monetary policy. His life changed when he read the memoirs of Baron de Redé, the Parisian dandy who lived a life of beauty, comfort and supreme elegance in the Hôtel Lambert, where he threw the famous Bal Oriental in 1969.

The young aesthete dropped out of Bocconi and fled to Paris where, with only the income from his trust fund to maintain him, he spent his time being instructed in the 400 different varieties of white shirts available to bespoke customers of Charvet, being fitted for suits at Cifonelli, curating his Instagram feed (@flaneuretdandyparisien), and buying Cartier watches. His current favourite is this year’s Tank Normale on a platinum bracelet — he finds yellow or pink gold a little vulgar and steel far too practical, but this icon of understatement suits him perfectly and can be worn under the close-fitting cuffs of his dazzling white Charvet shirts.

A man of simple tastes, he is perfectly satisfied with the very best.

Who? The veteran film director

What? A Rolex Submariner

The veteran film director is the grand old man of British cinema, his unimpaired memory recalling with crystal clarity a career that began almost 60 years ago, working on David Lean’s film adaptation of Doctor Zhivago, not that you see his name on the credits. He was an assistant to the second assistant director on the second unit, but it was an experience that confirmed his love of cinema and furnished him with the first of a store of anecdotes with which he regales starstruck audiences at film festivals and conventions and has filled two volumes of memoirs.

When working on Zhivago, he became friends with screenwriter Robert Bolt and later worked on the film adaptation of Bolt’s play A Man For All Seasons, where he met his wife. They are still married more than 50 years later, living happily in Buckinghamshire, surrounded by mementos of a rich, diverse and distinguished career in film and television. Everywhere one looks, there are pictures of the veteran director with all the greats of late-20th-century cinema — actors, directors, and producers alike — as well as trophies from film festivals and awards ceremonies around the world.

These days, his rambling farmhouse is a place of pilgrimage for film historians and biographers, whom he greets with old-world courtesy and a lively wit. He’s heard all the questions before and when he is asked to name his favourite trophy he looks around the room, his eyes lighting on the Emmy, the CBE and the BAFTA before returning to the well-used Rolex Submariner on his wrist.

He unfastens it and hands it to his interlocutors, inviting them to read the dedication from Roger Moore, the cue for another anecdote about how he won it from the 007 star in an all-night backgammon session on a film set during the 1970s. ‘Lovely man, Roger. His word was his bond,’ he says with well-practised timing, adding, with a chuckle, ‘and he had great taste in watches.’

Who? The architect

What? A Patek Philippe Nautilus

Approaching 60 and garlanded with the laurels of a successful career (knighthood, order of merit and honorary degrees from universities on every continent), the architect is at the peak of his powers.

Whether it is a new museum in one of the Gulf States, a library for an Ivy League University, a performing-arts centre in one or other of the ‘-stans’, a memorial of reconciliation in a former war-torn state, an airport in one of those smaller cities in China with a mere 20,000,000 inhabitants or a seven-star wellness and longevity resort in Saudi Arabia, he is the default choice for prestige projects around the world.

He came to fame during the Cool Britannia 1990s in London, when he spent time hanging out with the YBAs. His models (including one for a bridge over the English Channel) and drawings were the subject of a small exhibition at the Saatchi Gallery when it was still at Boundary Road. At that time, he had only two completed projects to his name: the house of a noted art dealer and the interior of a fashionable London restaurant in the then daring location of Hoxton.

His breakthrough was an Arts and education building in a former industrial town in the North of England that has since been likened to the Guggenheim Bilbao in its transformative power. It was the moment his career took off and, to mark it, he purchased himself a steel time-only Patek Philippe Nautilus. It has remained his signature ever since, together with the tailored blue workwear suit and collarless shirt he is always seen wearing. Having grown up during the 1970s, he was attracted by the watch’s unique design and has bought himself a new one every year, but, ever since production of the fabled Reference 571/1A ceased, he has been left in a quandary. Does he buy the white-gold Ref 5811 and hope no one notices? Or does he make a move to the Patek Philippe Grand complications?

Who? The vintage car enthusiast

What? A Chopard Mille Miglia

Ever since he was taken to his first Grand Prix by his industrialist father during the 1960s, he has been enraptured by the internal-combustion engine. He is old enough to have met the greats and he still talks of his encounter with Fangio as one of the defining moments of his life. Amherst Villiers was another of his automotive heroes and he still has his first vintage car, a Tim Birkin spec 4½-litre Blower Bentley (fitted with the famous Amherst Villiers supercharger). He bought it as a wreck back in the 1970s and he will never part from it.

You might see him parked up at the Goodwood Revival, clad in his tattered flying jacket, tweed cap and cravat. He still has the youthful grin and tumbling mop of Nero-like curls that made him so irresistible for the wives of his friends on the amateur motor-racing circuit of the late 1970s and 1980s, but it is testimony to his legendary charm that, although he has caused the breakup of at least three marriages (that he knows about), he maintains excellent relationships with all involved.

He, however, never married; the internal-combustion engine is his first, true and only love. He is always ready to talk cars — just one thing, never ever mention the Ferrari 250 GTO in his hearing. He once owned one, but, in the mid 1980s, he sold it to an American collector for close to $1 million. At first, he congratulated himself on his sagacity and shrewdness, but now that they can fetch $70 million (if you can find one), it is one of his greatest regrets in a life that has otherwise been full of fun and fast cars.

He has competed as a gentleman driver at Le Mans, but, these days, he favours the vintage rally circuit, especially the Mille Miglia Storica, the celebrated Italian event for pre-1957 cars. It was there that, during the early 1990s, he met Karl-Friedrich Scheufele, co-president of Geneva watchmaker Chopard, which sponsors the race.

As a regular entrant, he has collected almost every watch by Chopard to mark the Mille Miglia and has learned to enjoy watches almost as much as he enjoys cars. He jokes that he took up watch collecting because he needs an interest for his old age, but he shows little sign of slowing up just yet.