Swiss Watchmaker Keeps Time as Times Keep Changing

here do you go in Cambridge when you shatter the crystals of your Casio?

For many decades, the Swiss Watchmaker has been the answer. Tucked between Wholesome Fresh and a small fine wine shop on quiet Church Street, the store is a staple of Harvard Square. “This shop has been here probably for 100 years,” owner Susan Lelyveld says.

On a recent Saturday afternoon, we set out to explore what for most students is probably among the more obscure Square establishments.

The Swiss Watchmaker storefront is narrow and endearingly cluttered, with fountain pens and the occasional empty shooter bottles dotted throughout the watch display cases that line the walls. A steady stream of weekend customers moves in and out of the store during our visit. The shop’s collection is expansive, offering high- and low-end pieces alike, with models as sporty as a Swatch and as sleek as a vintage Tudor.

An oversized, Greek-themed Swatch wall clock hangs on one wall, while a massive banner displaying the eclectic and maximalist watches showcased at the 2016 Grand Prix d’Horlogerie de Geneve, a Swiss awards competition often called the “Oscars of watchmaking,” partitions the store.

Lelyveld, known for her signature feathered fedora, is attentive to her customers, receiving watches for repairs and referring others to nearby stores that might have the piece they’re looking for. All the while, she exudes a clear passion for watches and her store. She speaks animatedly with us about the shop’s history. “We think that one of the watchmakers who was mentioned in ‘The Sound and the Fury’ by Faulkner might possibly have been us,” Lelyveld tells us.

Lelyveld says that the store’s longevity stems from the enduring appeal of owning a great watch. “I think that years ago people were very worried that watches were going to go out of style, out of fashion, and out of use,” she says. But even as smartphones make it easier to check the time without glancing at a wrist, customers still treasure their watches.

“People discovered that watches were different from wrist instruments and, you know, digital connections — that they could hold sentiments and that they meant a lot more to people,” Lelyveld says.

As we chat with Lelyveld, a college-aged customer walks in with a broken watch. She declines to speak with us, but Lelyveld insists on filling us in. “This young lady does have a story,” Lelyveld says, explaining that the customer had wanted a watch just like the one her mother had owned, but hadn’t found the right piece. After a brief consultation, Lelyveld found a small watch with a red leather band that “fit the bill.”

As Lelyveld moves around behind the counter, repairing a faulty spring bar, she says the watch initially hadn’t been out for display because it was a loaner. These loaners, lent to customers whose own timepieces are in for repairs, are among the shop’s more distinctive services. Many customers simply cannot find peace without their piece: “If they’re not wearing it, they’re just — something is off, and then they get rejoined with it, and it’s a big deal,” she says.

That penchant for watches unites the customers we meet during our visit. Some come in seeking rare models, while others check in on ongoing repairs or hope for a quick fix to a broken wrist strap.

A few are checking out the store for only the first or second time. Louis M. Schatzki had overlooked the store until he stopped one day to look at the watch display in the front window. Upon remembering that he owned a watch in need of repair, he decided to finally go inside. “It’s nice to have physical sites for a lot of stuff, and have some human interaction,” Schatzki tells us.

As Schatzki speaks with us, Lelyveld is busy behind the scenes tinkering with his watch, a vintage find that displays a poker hand on the dial — appropriate for Schatzki given his affinity for poker. Every so often, Lelyveld comes back up to the counter to point out the inner workings of the repair to him.

In changing times, Lelyveld preserves an old practice in modern Harvard Square life. For Schatzki, that’s something special. “I guess I just generally like going to places that’ve been around for a while. Feels like it has history,” he says.