grand seiko slga021g
Grand Seiko SLGA021G, $9100, grand-seiko.com
Ngoc Minh Ngo

Wristwatch design strives for microscopic perfection. Every beveled flank stretches along, ruler straight; polished surfaces shine, unmarred and mirror-like. Most timepieces are a celebration of symmetry at every turn, especially when human hands have done the work.

But what about the beauty of imperfection?

This story originally appeared in Volume 17 of Road & Track.

You may be familiar with wabi-sabi, a Western interpretation of a Japanese ethos. Less an aesthetic philosophy and more a mindful approach to living, wabi-sabi recognizes the simple, gorgeous imperfection around us. Take the cherry blossom, which explodes like a pastel bottle rocket even as its petals flutter away to wilt. Or a breaking wave, both shapeless and shapely, constantly shifting, each moment bringing another nuance—its beauty derives from a perfect impermanence.

This Grand Seiko wraps that wabi-sabi ideal around your wrist. Sure, there are mirror-­polished bevels and neatly machined elements, but above all, the SLGA021G’s patterned dial evokes the predawn calm of Lake Suwa, which nestles into the Japanese valley where Grand Seiko Spring Drive watches are assembled and finished, largely by hand. Under angular light and careful observation, the wave motif covering the dial reveals a subtle texture. Its ink-blue color references that fleeting moment when a morning breeze first stirs Suwa’s still waters, just before the sun breathes warmth into the valley. It sounds like heady stuff (or even marketing fluff), but the dial looks plainly beautiful, organic and simple, a contrast to the cold perfection of modern watchmaking.

Whether or not this Grand Seiko’s Lake Suwa dial stirs your soul, the watch is proof that imperfection often creates perfection itself.

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Headshot of Kyle Kinard
Kyle Kinard
Senior Editor

The only member of staff to flip a grain truck on its roof, Kyle Kinard is R&T's senior editor and resident malcontent. He lives near Seattle and enjoys the rain. His column, Kinardi Line, runs when it runs.