All that's lacking in my life is that unassuming timepiece (and that somewhat fuel-efficient BMW SUV which is somewhere in the earlier bits of the X Series... which I'll be able to afford in two decades with the paycheck I'm bringing in chaque mois). In line with this, this takes me back to a few trips to Cartier boutiques here and there earlier this year, taking a certain fancy over the cheaper styles en argent and not en or... or en platine... and the really darn basic ones with no extra frills. So, this finds me in accord with Details' citation of Max Irons as a horological inspiration and how in my case that cheap watch could aptly complement by uncommunicative nature of the late. It's much like how I associate luxury with the things you wear as something you enjoy for yourself whether they are cheap or expensive. You wear it and take pleasure in wearing them for yourself instead of wearing them for others to create some buzz about you or acknowledge your presence, which in the society I belong to is conveniently synonymous to the following: a fashion blogger or a stylist/stylist wannabe (who assumes to be a tastemaker and has not heard of Baudelaire and Lautréamont), vain efforts of a nouveau-riche (think Manny Pacquiao et sa femme), a startlet trying to wow the fashion crowd, a local celebrity trying to insist on a future as a budding fashionista and swears by Saint Laurent and can't even pronounce it to save his/her life, or some of the peculiar types which is a hybrid of the aforementioned.