Have you ever read a book that has you chortling through every other sentence? I hadn’t — until I picked up Sam Beeson’s Dear Diary: The Watches Are Winning. My dog was as startled at my reaction as her frightened cat was — the cat being a character in the book, and my dog unused to laughter in the house, thanks to a challenging 2025.
I didn’t approach it with particularly high expectations. We discovered each other on Instagram, no doubt through watch posts. The title and cover caught my eye, but the publisher’s Instagram feed, heavy on colouring books, made me to expect something lighter and more visual. There is not one illustration in the 178 pages — just line after line of hilarity.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve been a watch reporter for nearly two decades, covering lifestyle rather than technical content. Nobody can ever accuse me of being a watch geek, but I’m passionate about the stories behind watch designers, their creations, and those who collect them.
Sam’s account of how the protagonist “lost” her husband to horology is a delight. For someone on the periphery, or just starting to develop an interest in the watch world, it’s a great introduction. What I love most is Sam’s injection of humour into a sector that can appear serious and exclusive, even though independent watchmakers often lead the way with their approachable charm. She also injects fun into complicated watch-speak, which boggles the brains of any newbie until they master the basics.
“He said tourbillon, and I blushed. At first, I thought my husband was being romantic… Then I realised… A ‘tourbillon’ was not a dramatic spinning dance, but a tiny mechanism inside a watch. An ‘escapement’ was not a metaphor for breaking free from life’s troubles, but a part of the movement controlling the ticks.”
“I once moved a strap two inches to dust the coffee table. He reacted like I’d toppled a priceless Ming vase. The cat, poor thing, learned the hard way: it strolled across a winder once, the machine whirred into life, and the cat now treats that corner of the room like it’s Chernobyl.”
That’s a taste of what to expect: Sam details zones for living versus zones for watching (i.e. indulging the horology passion), unboxing rituals, rituals in general, spreadsheet fever and the cat’s revenge — and that’s only the first chapter. And don’t get me started on the dive watch commentary:
“He wears a watch designed for the open ocean. The deepest water he’s encountered recently was the hotel bath, and he complained it was ‘too deep’.”
Sam, who hails from Essex in the UK, describes the book as a fresh and humorous take on watch culture, exploring what luxury watches actually do in modern life. She focuses on how they’re collected, justified, obsessed over, and lived with, not through technical specifications or brand mythology, but from a sharply observational, domestic point of view.
While the tone is humorous, the book is written from inside the culture, with real affection for horology, craftsmanship, and the emotional pull of luxury objects. The absurdity is relentless, yet the charm is undeniable.
This is recommended reading, if only to laugh — while gaining a greater understanding of this obsessive world of watches.
Where to buy: Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.ca
