When you press one of the pushers on Hermès’ Arceau Le Temps Suspendu timepiece, the hour and minute hands reconfigure themselves to a starting position near 12 o’clock and remain there. The idea is that you have frozen time, giving yourself a sense of relief away from the eternal ticking of seconds. When you are ready to clock back in, you again press the pusher, and it ‘unfreezes’ itself and reverts back to the accurate time.
In the rigid, highly regulated world of Swiss horology—an industry obsessed with chronometric precision and the relentless quantification of moments—this mechanism feels like an act of rebellion. Yet, for Hermès, it is simply a continuation of a philosophy that has defined the Maison for nearly two centuries. It is an approach to mechanics that mirrors the spirit of their famous silk Carré scarves: a distinct blend of lightness, elegant movement, and a playful spirit, all delivered with an obsessive consideration for craftsmanship.
According to Philippe Delhotal, the Creative Director of Hermès Horloger, distinguishing the brand’s specific ethos requires careful semantics. While the watches are whimsical, they are not trivial.
“People have describe our timepieces as ‘fun’, but that is not the word I would use. I prefer describing them as having a ‘lightness’ to them,” explains Delhotal. “This has always been an inspiration for us, something that runs throughout the history of the Maison—particularly with the Carré [silk scarves]. That idea of ‘lightness’ allows you to play with a sense of fantasy and, yes, a touch of humour as well.”
This is the golden thread connecting the silk division to the watchmaking workbench. Just as a scarf dances in the wind, untethered and free, a Hermès watch aims to liberate the wearer from the weight of time. However, achieving this simplicity requires immense technical complexity. To make time disappear on command, as the Le Temps Suspendu does, requires hundreds of components working in perfect synchronization.
“The most essential part is to maintain the balance between the fantasy of the storytelling and the mechanical accomplishment of the watch,” Delhotal notes. “If you go too much into the fantasy, then the watchmaking does not get appreciated to its true worth.”
It is a duality that defines the brand’s horological identity: the whimsical artist on the dial, supported by the rigorous engineer in the movement. “We make our products light in spirit, but we don’t take them lightly,” he says. “We want our clients to know that we create high-quality complicated watches, but those that come with storytelling and personality.”
This dedication to narrative is what separates Hermès from the pure instrument makers. In a market crowded with dive watches designed for depths no human will reach, and chronographs for races no owner will run, Hermès offers a different value proposition: emotion.
“Each watch we create has to have a story behind it. We always ensure that there is an element that stirs the emotions,” Delhotal says. “If we can add a touch of fantasy to the watch industry then that will help differentiate us.”
That differentiation was on full display at the Grand Prix d’Horlogerie de Genève (GPHG), the Oscars of the watch world. While competitors showcased sombre tourbillons and grand complications, Hermès arrived with a smile.
“At the recent GPHG, Hermès was commended for its watch ‘Arceau Rocabar de Rire,’ which sees a horse on the dial that sticks its tongue out,” Delhotal recounts with pride. “Watchmaking is a very serious business, and no other brand would be able to have this kind of playfulness represent it at such a prestigious watch event—which is our strength.” It is perhaps the ultimate luxury: to take one’s craft seriously enough to perfect it, but not so seriously that one forgets to play.