In the Piaget Archives

The other week, I spent an afternoon at Piaget’s London boutique, viewing pieces from the Piaget Archive, surrounded by watches that have shaped more than just time. Some were created in the 1960s. Others only recently. But the line between them felt surprisingly thin.

The first watch I tried on was a 1969 cuff in yellow gold with a tiger’s eye dial. The stone caught the light in warm bands of amber and brown. It didn’t feel delicate. It felt strong. Soft around the wrist, more jewellery than timepiece. Inside, the ultra-thin movement made it feel effortless, like all the boldness was floating. My silk scarf and creamy outfit matched by chance, but really, I had no idea what I’d get to see in the archive.

After the cuff, I tried a bracelet from the same year with the matching necklace and earrings. Yellow gold, turquoise cabochons. I kept looking at the way the blue popped against the warmth of the metal. Bold, playful, quiet, all at once. Somehow still modern. The more I looked, the more I wanted to book a holiday to the ocean immediately.

Next, the Dali d’Or necklace, two gold coins from around 1970. The light hit them just right. Playful, quiet, modern, even after all these years.

Then I tried a 1970 cuff watch. Yellow gold, jade dial, with the ultra-thin 9P hand-wound movement. The green of the jade was soft but vivid. It wrapped around the wrist like it was made for it. There was a calm confidence to it that made the 1969 cuff feel like a warm-up.

One of my personal favourites were those two cuffs from around 1973. Yellow gold with malachite and onyx. The green was deep and alive, almost hypnotic, like it moved on its own. The black onyx around it made it feel sharp, confident. Bold but easy. Wearing it, I couldn’t stop staring.

Then we got those three watches together. White gold and diamonds, one with deep black onyx, another with opal, and the third with a malachite dial that brought that rich green into the mix. The onyx one felt almost sporty. Each had its own personality, but they all felt like part of the same story. I could look at them for hours and still notice something new.

This high jewellery watch from 1989 is a masterpiece. Yellow gold, diamonds everywhere, the dial paved in tiny stones. Super extravagant, but you could see the craftsmanship in every angle, yet it didn’t feel overdone. I could wear it and forget it was even a watch, almost like jewellery that tells time.

The archives were full of surprises. Now we’re in the present. I tried two Sixties watches and the new Andy Warhol 2025 side by side. Yellow gold, trapeze shapes. Each completely its own. The Andy had a tiger’s eye dial that shifted in the light from deep brown to almost golden, depending on how you held it. A little sporty, a little chic. The Sixties felt looser, playful, a little reckless. I kept turning them in my hands, watching the bracelets move, the angles catch each other. Do what has never been done before. That’s exactly what it felt like.