Most watch brands want you to admire their watches. Timex spent the 1960s trying to destroy theirs on television. It strapped them to cliff divers, threw them to dolphins, and froze them in ice before dropping them in a blender. Then a famous newsman would hold one up to the camera, still ticking, and the whole country nodded along.

That's the spirit we were after when we went digging through the Timex archive for our second collaboration. What we came back with is the Heritage 66, a dive watch built on a 1966 Timex Skin Diver, updated for a life that may involve more backyard pools and local beaches than exotic coral reefs. Either way, it'll be fine. And like most good stories about tough watches, this one starts with a clock.

Post Summary:

Timex started in 1854 as the Waterbury Clock Company in Connecticut and spent a century making good watches affordable enough for everybody.
In 1966, it released a stainless steel Skin Diver rated to 600 feet, with a countdown bezel, and that's the watch ours is built on.
The Heritage 66 brings it back with a 40mm steel case, 200m of water resistance, and two straps, one of them in a bold bright orange.

The Switzerland of America

In the mid-1800s, Connecticut's Naugatuck Valley was so packed with clockmakers that people called it the Switzerland of America. In 1854, a brass manufacturer there called Benedict & Burnham started a side business making clocks out of brass wheels and gears. They named it the Waterbury Clock Company, and it grew into one of the biggest clockmakers in the country.

The big idea came from a salesman. In 1892, Robert Ingersoll hired Waterbury to build pocket watches for his mail-order business, and in 1896 they released the Ingersoll Yankee, the first watch to sell for a single dollar. It got a nickname to match: "the watch that made the dollar famous." Over its first 20 years, Ingersoll sold nearly 40 million of them. Turns out a lot of people wanted to know what time it was.

Fun fact.

“One cartoon mouse carried a watch company through the Great Depression.”

When World War I turned wristwatches into a must-have, Waterbury added lugs and luminous hands to its small pocket watches and kept up. The Great Depression was harder. Waterbury's answer was a licensing deal with Walt Disney, and the Mickey Mouse watch debuted at the 1933 Chicago World's Fair. More than five million were made over the next 15 years. Depression-era America might not have had much, but it had Mickey on its wrist.

Takes a Licking

In 1940, two Norwegian businessmen, Thomas Olsen and Joakim Lehmkuhl, fled the Nazi invasion of their country and landed in America looking for something to invest in. They bought a controlling share of Waterbury, spent the war building fuse timers for the military, and renamed the company United States Time Corporation.

The new watch line needed a name, and Olsen picked one by mashing up two things he liked: Time magazine and Kleenex. That's it. That's the whole origin story. Timex watches launched in 1950, built with smart, simple designs and movements engineered to keep costs down. By 1962, roughly a third of all wristwatches sold in the US were a Timex.

Live, from a blender near you.

“It takes a licking and keeps on ticking.”

Then came the ads. Timex hired John Cameron Swayze, one of the most trusted newsmen in the country, to put its watches through what everyone called torture tests. Dolphins caught them mid-leap. Cliff divers in Acapulco wore them off the rocks. Swayze froze one in a block of ice, dropped it in a blender, and pulled it out still running. Each time, he signed off with the line that's been stuck in America's head ever since.

Going Under in 1966

By the mid-'60s, everybody wanted a [[dive watch]], and the serious ones cost serious money. Timex's answer was the Skin Diver. A lot of skin divers from the era were rated for shallow water at best, but the 1966 version came in a stainless steel case rated to 600 feet, while plenty of divers from the same period were chrome-plated. It also had a countdown bezel, which ran backward from the usual setup so a diver could see how much time he had left rather than how long he'd been down. It was a serious tool, at a Timex price.

That's the watch we built ours on. The Heritage 66 keeps the shape and the attitude, and fixes the parts that time wasn't kind to:

A 40mm stainless steel case with long, slightly curved lugs, the same proportions as the original.
200m of water resistance, up from the original's 600 feet, thanks to a screw-down crown and a screw-on caseback. In other words: swim in it, snorkel in it, forget you're wearing it in the shower.
A countdown bezel, straight from the archive. It's a black aluminum top ring that only turns one way, with the final 15 minutes fully marked. Set it before you put the steaks on, and it'll tell you when to flip them.
A clean black dial with luminous hands and markers, a date window at 3, and an orange arrow-tipped seconds hand so you can find it at a glance.
A domed mineral crystal, for that vintage curve without the vintage scratches.
A quartz movement. No winding, no fuss. It just runs.

Translation.

“A 1966 dive watch, minus the 1966 problems.”

There are two details only you will know about. This exclusive edition sports a crown with the Bespoke Post emblem, and the caseback is etched with a scuba diver inspired by Timex's original 1966 ads.

Timex x Bespoke Post Heritage 66 Watch- Shop Now

Two Straps, Two Vibes

This is our second time digging through the Timex archive together. The first one gave us a [[field watch]]. This time, we wanted something that could handle a swim, a cookout, and dinner after, all without a costume change.

The watch ships with two straps, and both swap in seconds thanks to quick-release spring bars. The first is an orange slip-thru watch strap in double-layer fabric. It's bold in the best way, the kind of color that looks great with a tan and a cold drink. It pairs well with a clean white t-shirt, a pair of swim trunks or shorts, and nowhere in particular to be. The second is a black HNBR rubber strap, a nod to the rubber tropic straps divers wore in the '60s. It slides right under a nice chambray shirt. Same watch, two personalities.

Pairs Well With…

Keep It Ticking

A watch built to survive a blender doesn’t need much from you, but a few habits go a long way.

Screw the crown down before you get in the water. It’s what keeps that 200m rating honest. Give it a quick check before every swim.
Rinse it after saltwater or the pool. Fresh water and a towel, and the case and rubber strap will thank you.
Leave battery changes to a pro. When the quartz movement needs a new battery, have a watch shop do it and reseal the case, so the water resistance stays where it should.

Brass Tacks

Timex never built watches for people who keep them in a drawer. It built them for soldiers, for kids who wanted Mickey on their wrist, for divers, and for anyone who just needed something that worked, at a price that didn't make them nervous. Then it threw a few in a blender to just to prove its creds.

The Heritage 66 comes from the same place: a 1966 dive watch, brought back with modern guts and a couple of details made just for us. Wear it in the water. Wear it to dinner. Maybe avoid throwing it in the blender-- though it would probably be fine.

Dolphins, Cliff Divers, and a Blender: The Story Behind the Timex Heritage 66