🌗 “I wear a Jaeger-LeCoultre Reverso Duetto. It’s quiet, elegant, thoughtfully made, and it flips between two faces. One side is bright, simple. The other, dark, edged in diamonds. Two moods, depending on what you are ready to see.” 🌓

 

I am traveling right now, and this is the watch that I brought with me, not a quartz, not an automatic. I chose the Duetto because it asks something of me. It doesn’t just tick. I have to wind it. I have to pay attention, and I like that, especially when I’m in motion. That’s why it came with me.

Like my work, it doesn’t run on autopilot. It waits, for the right hands, for the right movement. The kind of care. It doesn’t wind itself, left alone, it stops.

But when someone returns and turns the crown with intention, it comes to life again. Not every hour is the right hour, sometimes I’m away. Sometimes I’m already spoken for, but when the timing lines up, everything starts to tick with purpose.

Some encounters are fleeting. A one-time meeting. A trace that lingers. Others return, changed but familiar. And there are the ones who have stayed. Through seasons, through shifts, the ones who saw me when I was new to all of this and kept coming back anyway.

Desires change. Timing changes. Circumstances change. What someone wants the first time isn’t always what they need the next. I don’t work from a script, I follow what fits in the moment, not just what’s asked for, but what lands.

Sometimes we begin soft, slow, playful. Sometimes it’s sharper. Focused with a plan. Other times, we don’t need to say a word.
Like the Duetto, I shift. Not to reveal, but to respond. Thoughtfully. Deliberately. Until it fits just right.

Vanilla or Dark Chocolate. Gentle or intense. Familiar or new. The Duetto can show one, or both faces in one sitting, and often does. But even then, it turns with care. What happens depends on what you bring, what you ask for, and yes, what you’re willing to invest in.

Some are drawn to the smooth silver side. Others want more. The weight. The detail. The diamonds. The difference is subtle, but it shows. Especially in what you hand me at the end. A note. A transfer. A quiet thanks.

Yes, I sell time. But what you’re paying for is how it feels. Maybe you only want a short turn of the crown. Or maybe you want every tick. Every shift. Every second I’m willing to give.

That’s your call. And that choice shapes everything.

Whether this is your first visit or something we’ve done before, I want it to feel easy. 

Like slipping into something that fits just right.

Maybe that’s why I still wear this watch.

Because sometimes, all it takes is one turn of the crown or a flip of the case, and everything shifts.

And it all begins again.