Why I converted wrists, and how it could happen to you
Buffy AcaciaLet’s get one thing straight. I have been a proud lefty for my entire life, and I would never dream of abandoning my roots. If you’re a southpaw who feels betrayed by this article, just know that I would have felt exactly the same way before this happened to me. The wrist we wear our watches on feels totally instinctive, and wearing it on the other can instantly feel violently wrong. So how did this wrist conversion occur in me? Did I lose an arm? Was I forced at knifepoint? The answer may be disappointingly simple, but I think it has significant implications.
The change
For me, 2024 has been the year where I’ve become fascinated with all aspects of jewellery. Of course, it began with watches years ago, then spread into rings and necklaces, as jewellery is the perfect combination of my pre-existing fascination with gemmology and metallurgy. It’s the reason why I’m so glad stone dial watches have become such a huge phenomenon, and I’m excited to see what other lessons the watch industry can learn from jewellers and lapidarists. While holidaying in Tasmania, I came across a bracelet, and it was love at first sight. It featured bezel-set rough garnets (my birthstone), housed in a sterling silver chain with a blackened finish. I needed to haggle it down significantly, but I bought it.
I’m not sure how many of you are familiar with sterling silver and garnets, but they’re heavy. The bracelet weighs around 110 grams, which is still less than the average dive watch, but most of my watches are small and weigh fewer than 50 grams. The watch I currently wear most, a vintage ultra-thin quartz Credor, is especially lightweight. Putting the watch on my normal wrist and wearing the bracelet on the other instantly gives me that yuck feeling that something is wrong. Placing the bracelet where my watch would usually go completely reverses that, and tricks my mind into thinking that a watch on my left wrist is perfectly normal. I did try wearing the bracelet and watch on the same wrist too, but the thinness of the Credor meant that the bracelet was a constant threat of scratching the crystal.
The realisation and implications
I don’t think this is any grand revelation, but it does open up some thoughts in regards to how we wear watches. It’s said that watches are worn on the non-dominant hand so that you can operate the crown with your dominant one, but very few people actually bother to do that. It’s much easier to use the crown before putting the watch on, and then it should be fine for the whole day. Then, the crown remains as a bit of a hazard, digging into the back of your hand if it’s not strapped tight a little higher up the wrist. Watches with left-handed crowns offer a solution to that problem, but only if you normally wear them on your right wrist. So why don’t more right-handers wear right-handed watches on their right wrists?
Another reason, albeit a more superficial one, is that I tend to prefer how my watches look above the multicoloured tattoo on my left wrist than the black and red tattoo on my right wrist. I never considered my watch habits when I got the ink, nor do I really think I could have predicted this outcome had I done so. It’s not a factor that will be relevant to many people, but it’s something to keep in mind. After barely any time or effort, I can now comfortably wear a watch on my dominant wrist even without wearing the bracelet on the other. You may be thinking that there’s no reason to want to swap, but until you’ve tried both ways, can you really tell which way you prefer? It’s food for thought, and if you’re curious about swapping over, perhaps you should think about buying a heavy bracelet.