No one really enters horology kicking the door open throwing a flashbang in the middle of the room. Instead most folks find the backdoor, peek in, and slide themselves into the space without anyone being the wiser. In other words, it would be pretty astonishing for anyone to beeline to a micro/independent diver without first getting acquainted with the most iconic timepieces of this genre. Or any genre for that matter. Because if you are new to watches then you are most likely to first hear of Rolex, Omega, Tissot, Longines and Seiko, not Helm, Lorier, Vero, Traska or Arena. That’s because the aforementioned mainstays of global horology have been around for so long and have invested so much money into advertising that any random Joe knows about them. That’s the law of the jungle we evolve inside of. And you probably have never heard of Arena so I’m glad you stopped by today to learn about it. 

At the time of writing this article I actually don’t know much about the brand’s founder and it appears that it is better for it to be so because the watch must speak for itself. On its website, there is a vision statement but not a personal story which is of course absolutely fine. (We don’t always have to hear about a person’s life’s meanderings in order to find the watch worthy of our scattered attention.) And by writing about the Vanitas without really knowing more I’m doing something I rarely do—telling you about a watch outside of a personal context. But when the brand reached out, I looked at the watch online, I immediately saw something different about it, and I said “I do want to check it out.” But what we already know about Arena is that it aims at making watches for the low-key person who acts with all of his/her might and then moves onto the next thing. 

Specifications 

So what is this gap I cleverly mentioned in the subtitle? It is one of brand recognition vs. intrinsic value, of saying vs. doing, and of spectacle vs. authenticity. The Arena Vanitas is a full package both from mechanical and design standpoints, which doesn’t overdo it in any area of watchmaking we often talk about, without underdoing it in any area of watchmaking we often seek to acquire. The first thing I do when my horological heart gets poked by a new creation is to look it up online, study the design, specifications, and price, to see whether or not it will resonate with my enthusiast’s soul and be worthy of the few minutes you’d invest reading about it. So while discovering the Vanitas I saw the price tag of $1,430 USD which, a couple of years ago, would have been an outrageous price for a new brand to enter the market with, but which today simply makes us wonder what do we get for it. 

From a pure specifications standpoint, you get a lot and more for this amount of cash. First, a perfectly Mainspring-sized case for a modern diver which measures 39mm in diameter, 47mm lug-to-lug, 11.6mm thick, and comes with a 20mm lug width. These are the measurements of a tool watch I can easily wear everyday to do about anything roughly anywhere. With it you get 200 meters of water resistance (screw-down crown and case-back,) a 2mm-thick domed sapphire crystal, a top grade Sellita SW300-1a (4Hz/56 hours of power reserve) which has a stated accuracy of -4/+6 seconds per day (hello COSC-requirement!), a beads-of-rice bracelet with double-headed screws and an unbranded clasp with an on-the-fly micro-adjustment mechanism. (Hooray for the lack of branding which doesn’t devalue the watch despite what the Watch Wisdom dictates.) Moreover, copious applications of C3 lume on the hands, applied markers and dots, as well as all the bezel markings. 

The first major point of interest with the Arena Vanitas is the bezel. And by discovering it a little bit more already I hope will explain what you’re in for. It’s unidirectional and has 120-clicks, precise and firm clicks which require a dash of elbow grease to make the bezel spin. It won’t come to life on its own and you must be deliberate in its use. The part you grip has an unusual design: its corners are polished and the indentations are bullet-shaped and decorated inside with a pearlescent satin finish. So your fingers must slide round the polished edges to actuate the bezel, which is novel in action and in design which I find striking. The insert is fully lumed, made of PVD-coated brushed steel for extra durability and the first 30 minutes are fully graduated for extra practicality. Clearly, a lot of time and thinking was invested into the design and manufacturing of the bezel. And we find more of that everywhere else. 

Design

The Vanitas is a real treat for me to chronicle because its design appears simple but isn’t, so it’s full of hidden gems which I’ve been relishing to tell you about. For example, the hands + markers ensemble is nothing short of extraordinary on account of the design and fabrication of each element. All together looking elegantly classic and making me reminisce of certain vintage Rolex GMT Master’s which came with small hour markers and thin hands, a combination of the utmost utilitarian elegance. On the Vanitas the hour and minute hands are faceted rectangles which slightly taper down towards their tip, where the minute hand reaches the minute hash-marks with accuracy and again, elegance. A seconds hand in full red and with a lumed rectangular element adds a dash of piercing color, echoed in the similarly-colored model name printed in script above the pinion. Further above it the brand wordmark printed in a government-like font and below the pinion a mention of the depth rating. 

At the 12, 6, and 9 we find applied hour markers in the shape of skyscrapers or middle-fingers (as some folks would see it) made up of three elements, two narrow polished metal batons framing a three-dimensional block of lume twice the height of the former and passing them while shooting out towards the pinion. These three markers form a semi-complete target which would have been made wholesome safe for the framed date aperture at the three o’clock. The latter is composed of a thin white border, white date disc, and black printed numerals for ease of read. Then small, circular, applied, and polished hour markers—small in size but mighty in their lume—complement the basic time-telling functionality of the Vanitas, their difference in size compared to the skyscrapers letting in some room to breathe. The additional space was required to add thick hash-marks for the minutes and a complementary minute track printed on the rehaut. 

The rehaut was indeed used to add more information and an extra layer of visual complexity and interest to the dial. The base for it is a radially brushed metal background which catches the light akin to a dial decorated with an intense sunburst effect, on which is printed a fully graduated minute track in a contrasting color. Then small dots of lume aligned with each hour marker. I’ve seen dots of lume on some watches before and never were they actually that legible during the day and more importantly during the night. These dots aren’t just dots, they are microscopic tumuli for they stand out proud of the rehaut. When you add up the rehaut and hands and skyscrapers applied markers, then of course extra space was needed to make all said elements visually balanced, hence the need for the small circular hour markers. And where the three larger markers were incomplete to form a target, the bezel was designed to offset that gap. 

We already talked about the bezel because its construction is unusual. And we’re going to briefly talk about it again for the design of its insert. From 0 to 30 the scale is complete and fully lumed, luckily with a daytime appearance of clean white to match the mostly monochromatic color scheme of the dial. When not in use and with the inverted triangle placed at the twelve, the 0-30 scale balances out the lack of the fourth middle-finger marker at the three o’clock. Whether or not this was intentional, it works oh so well. From 30 to 0 then each five-minute increment is marked with either numerals or long hash-marks. Deliberate and visually pleasing. But friends we need to talk about the case and bracelet as well which is going to further add minutes to the reading of this article and thus how long you’ve spent with me already today. (6 minutes according to my writing software.) 

In a way, the case mirrors the design and functionality of the dial for it is equally visually balanced and thought through. It’s thin (11.6mm) on account of the SW300 caliber which is 1mm thinner than the ever so popular SW200. This allowed for a flat case-back and narrow mid-case which curves down at the lugs and at a steeper angle below them. Its profile is made even more so thin thanks to upper and lower polished chamfers, with a special note addressed to the upper ones which curve around the lugs and continue onto the end-links. The latter are made of angular blocks of steel sculpted by two chamfers, one polished aligning with the upper polished chamfers of the case. Then three polished beads-of-rice elements fully articulate from the block and form the classically gorgeous bracelet which tapers by a slight 2mm. A last key element of the case is the small and functional grippy crown (5.3mm in diameter) and crown-guards. 

The Heart of the Matter

I lied to you in the introduction. I do know a bit about the brand’s founder’s background: he was in the military. Though this wasn’t apparent looking at the Vanitas, a timepiece which doesn’t look like one designed by someone who served. (Hello stereotypes.) The founder is anonymous by name and face, and his story will remain one for him only to tell. And I lied because he wants you to judge his first horological creation on the merits of its design and mechanics, not on the merits of his profession and of the clout it generally carries with it. The name Arena comes from the Latin word for sand, a particular type of sand that was used to soak up the blood of fighters in what we now refer to as being an Arena—a circular building with seats and a central dirt-filled area where people fought to death. Metaphorically, we exist and move through the arena that is life and the arenas which make up our multiple experiences. 

And Vanitas refers to the dutch still-life painting of the 17th century which contained symbols of death and change reminding us of the finite nature of life. In other words, through this watch we’re invited to reflect on a few things: on the nature of life itself, its changing character and permeability, on the inevitability of death, and of the proper way in which we ought to carry ourselves everyday—with resolute deliberation, profound calmness, professionalism and with a radical acceptance for life and all of what it brings. To tie this back to horology and our geeky nature, the Vanitas is a do-it-all-with-elegance-and-precision type of watch, built to act and look like a GADA/everyday timepiece. In other words, whether you served in the military or not, whether you’re an outdoorsy person or not, you can confidently do whatever you do with the Vanitas and glide through the multiple stages of life with serenity. And this is the heart of the matter today. 

Conclusion 

So mind the gap. Understand what makes this or that watch worthy of your attention not based on brand recognition but on its intrinsic value. Whether with this or that watch you will act or not act, whether you will seek to impress or to be your authentic self. The Arena Vanitas constitutes an excellent value proposition on account of its specifications and the singularity of its design, and even more so on account of what it represents. It’s as capable and versatile as any of the most advertised models from the most iconic and historical brands, and though you might not have directly landed on the Vanitas upon first entering the world of horology, you would have eventually done so once you would have understood who you are and what you’re looking for. 

Should the Arena Vanitas speak to you as much as it did to me, know that you can readily buy one on the brand’s website. 

Thanks for reading.