Recently, over post-work drinks, one of our gear editors commented on my wristwatch. 鈥淚t鈥檚 so small!鈥 he said, marveling at its diminutive face. Whereas many of my colleagues wear the latest and greatest smartwatches鈥攂ulky, ostentatious displays of personal technology鈥擨 found myself compelled to defend my bijou timekeeper. It鈥檚 basic, and that鈥檚 exactly why I adore it. Whether I鈥檓 traveling abroad or just playing in my local mountain range in New Mexico, the Sangre de Cristos, it does everything I need it to do: it keeps me on time聽and in the moment.
The is the epitome of analog. It has a simple black silicone band and a single crown聽for adjusting the time. I鈥檓 not much of a runner, so I don鈥檛 mind that I can鈥檛 track splits聽or measure my distance. The 25-millimeter face doesn鈥檛 even have numbers鈥攋ust notches for the hours and minutes. It鈥檚 water resistant, and the reliable ticking quartz movement has never failed me.
Though it costs just shy of $12, this watch has held up while rafting an underground river in New Zealand, scaling Mount Shasta, and sailing the South Pacific for five weeks. I鈥檓 not afraid to bang it up鈥攏ot that it seems to show any sign of wear, anyway. I鈥檓 on my third Casio at this point, and only because I鈥檝e lost the other two.聽
There are various options in this bargain-basement price range, like the men鈥檚 , which has a longer and wider strap and a larger face. The聽women鈥檚 versions tend to have smaller dials. For me, though, it鈥檚 perfect. The barely there size, minimalist interface, and durability meet my needs without a single superfluous feature. Some might consider me a Luddite, but zero distraction in this age of technological excess is the most valuable thing a piece of gear can provide.