The last thing I expected when A Man & His Watch arrived was that this book would inspire my life-partner?s a-ha moment and convert her into a watch-head. This is a woman who had never owned a watch, banished the one I had given her to the back of a drawer, and who managed, at best, to feign enthusiasm for my watch obsession. We knew we were playing stereotypical gender roles vis-a-vis watches; we?d even laugh about it as she?d unwittingly glaze over during one of my horological monologues?such as the one I launched into after a couple cocktails last Friday night. I start yakking about my new 1960s Breil Chronograph ?Blue Panda,? and, right on cue, she?s glazing over. But I was on a roll, so I open A Man & His Watch and turn to Steve McQueen?s Monaco to show my increasingly uninterested better-half how similar the colorway is to the Blue Panda. That?s when everything changed.She was utterly transfixed by McQueen?s Monaco. ?Look at that square shape, and these colors. This is incredible.? She gawks at it, reads the description, then gawks some more. McQueen?s watch is arguably horology?s most celebrated icon of masculine bravado, and?gender roles be damned?this woman was positively tripping out on it. She begins browsing, turns to analog/shift CEO Geoffrey Hess?s chocolate-dialed Rolex Sub and gasps, ?Oh my God, look at that color.? I explain that it?s patina, and her voice grows hushed, ?Wow, just amazing.? She pages onward, then stops hard at a rectangular Patek...