We are two childhood friends with a ferocious passion for watchmaking.
We both got our first Swatch as kids. One of us as a reward for a school report neither parent had really expected, the other as a thing an older cousin handed down because she had outgrown it. Cheap plastic, slightly the wrong size, kept in a drawer years longer than it needed to be. Most people we know have a version of this story. The Swatch is rarely the watch itself but more the day you got it.
The Audemars Piguet sat in a different part of the house. One of our fathers wore his Royal Oak through three decades, three careers, and one divorce, and it ended up in a velvet box on a shelf that we were not allowed to touch until we were older. We are older now. The watch is on a wrist again. It is not the same as the day it was bought, and that is the point.
When we saw that Swatch and AP had made the same watch, we understood it before we understood it. We are a small atelier with roots in Paris. Two of us, one workshop, no investors, no plan beyond this. It is a passion project in the literal sense: we are doing it because we cannot not do it.
The pocket watch was never meant to stay in the pocket.
Most of what we talked about that night was the calfskin lanyard the Royal Pop would come with, and with all its beauty, something felt off. We started making something the next morning: three cuffs, three stories we kept coming back to. Rosalie is the girl two streets over who never learned your name. Le Carnaval is the week your parents took you somewhere too loud and you loved it. Marin is the summer at twelve on a boat that wasn’t yours, watching the sea change color every hour. Horlogé Maison in French means home clock. We hope they feel close to a memory of yours.
Every piece is made by the two of us in the same apartment, on the same table, by the same lamp. We sign the inside with a date and a number. When a colourway runs out of numbers, that colourway is done.
