Review: the Makina Andras II

I love it when a little sub-genre in watches emerges as an area of near obsession. I’m sure some of my fellow hyper fixated readers know exactly what I’m talking about. This happens in other areas of our lives as well, and it might be easier to identify across more mainstream interests. For example, there was that month during the pandemic where I decided, quite compulsively, to watch and rewatch every David Fincher film, plus his many commercials (this one is perfect) and music videos, in chronological order. I also spent years, on and off, but always with real intention, collecting the first pressing of every Tom Waits album. You get the idea – it’s the collector’s mentality, zeroed in on something hyper specific. 

And so it is with square and rectangular watches, as of late. But not just square and rectangular watches. I’m talking about square and rectangular watches that break free of the confines of the dress watch style most often associated with this classic case shape. Over the last few years, there have been more than a handful of watches with 90 degree angles that aspire to sportiness, and I’m finding myself more and more drawn to them. That, indeed, was what drew me to the Makina Andras II seen here, a watch that plays with genre expectations in a really fun way from a brand that has, as should be obvious from these photos, a completely unique point of view and design language. 

Before diving into the Andras, let’s calibrate around some other notable rectangular watches of late that have fueled this little side quest of mine. 

Cartier of course is the first watch we have to mention when it comes to cases in shapes of anything other than a circle. While I wouldn’t describe the average Tank or Santos as particularly transgressive or part of this movement toward sportier or more casual watches in a style usually read as formal, you’ll often see these watches described as “sporty Tanks” and the like, so Cartier is worth calling out from the start. There are also plenty of examples of Tanks and the Santos that exist on the margins that do challenge our expectations for what these watches can be (the titanium Santos is an obvious example). 

The recent output from echo/neutra is another obvious reference point. The Rivanera, in particular, feels like it’s deeply in conversation with the Tank, and is still my favorite example of a watch that carries the framework of a very specific type of dress watch and challenges every preconceived notion about it. The Rivanera Piccolo does something similar with a more traditional square shape that’s smaller than the original Rivanera and also enters the current “mini” conversation happening within the watch industry. 

I’d also submit the Fears Arnos as a member of this group, although with this watch it admittedly comes down primarily to the brand’s decision to include a nice rubber strap in the package along with the expected leather. The watch itself is not breaking free of stereotypes, but the strap reminds us (and importantly should be seen as Fears reminding us) that these watches are what we make of them, and nothing should feel too tied to any specific genre or occasion. Dress watches can be worn casually, on rubber, or with a sweatshirt, and they become something else. Similarly, a new personal acquisition, the Otsuka Lotec No. 8, has a rectangular case that doesn’t exactly mimic anything in particular, but conjures a bizarro version of something old-fashioned, and is deeply transformed depending on strap choice. 

Makina is a New York City based brand founded by Danilo Villanueva, who describes the design language as fusing “industrial grit with quiet elegance.” I think that basically checks out. Makina’s watches, which I’ve had a chance to check out at a handful of Windups at this point but never spent an extended period of time with until the Andras II sample unit arrived, are all immediately striking visually but somewhat surprisingly wearable when you actually strap them to your wrist. There’s a refinement to the wearing experience that feels like a contrast to the aesthetic, which feels highly technical and somewhat severe at a glance. The dial and case are defined by a rough, sandblasted texture, and the watch initially presents as something a little more hardcore than what you ultimately experience on the wrist, which is a comfortable, easy reading daily driver type piece that is actually a lot more playful than what you’d expect when you first spot it on the Windup table. 

The Andras, similarly, defies certain conventions that you might identify immediately upon seeing it in photos or at a fair at almost the moment you put it on your wrist. What struck me especially about the Andras is the way it hides its thickness via case finishing and shape. It measures 33mm x 44mm, and is 11.5mm tall. So, by the numbers, it’s not especially thin, but it is compact. And on the wrist, it’s even more so, as every angle slopes sharply downward from the top. At the lugs, the case has sharp diagonal facets that are polished, and contrast nicely with the satin finish running lengthwise along the caseband. It feels like Makina has effectively chiseled away case material to make the watch feel (and look) sleeker than you might expect. 

The dial, too, is unexpectedly architectural, and is deeply sunken around a gray rectangular frame. The running seconds at 6:00 is an oval, which echoes the shape of the case itself, with a grayed out circular section in its lower hemisphere, creating a subtle “circle within a circle” motif. Polished hour indices are laid out against a white printed minute track. The hands are in a style I can’t recall seeing executed in exactly this way before – they are effectively “tong” shaped, each consisting of parallel strips of metal with open, blue ends that frame the hour and minute. 

Legibility is mostly fine – the dial can become a bit of an eye chart at times when the hands are clustered together, specifically when they cross that 6:00 running seconds scale. But this is a design forward piece if there ever was one, and I can’t really fault Makina too much here. The alternative, I guess, would have been to make everything bigger, with a necessarily wider case, but that wouldn’t have worked on the wrist as well, and it especially would have spoiled that effect of those facets at the case corners that make the Andras feel so sharp. As with most watches, a trade off in legibility is a sacrifice I’m willing to make for a watch with some real flair and a commitment to the ideas its working with. 

Another small critique I have is with the crown, which feels and looks just a little small. A crown that is slightly larger in diameter and flatter might have been both easier to manipulate and more visually harmonious with the case. There is some empty space on the 3:00 case flank, so in theory I think there would be room for a crown of a different design. This is an automatic watch (it runs on a Sellita SW260) so this is ultimately a very minor complaint, as the need to interact with the crown, in theory, is minimal. 

I like the Andras quite a bit as yet another exploration of the unhinged dress watch genre, although I have to confess I’m not sure that’s the intent of the watch at all, and has more to do with our own individual notions of what a rectangular watch signals. That in and of itself is an interesting thing to sit with and think through: why do we tend to filter our thoughts about any rectangular watch through the prism of a classic dress watch? Also, perhaps it’s just me, and this thought process is the product of the Tank being imprinted on me from an early stage as being the quintessential dress watch? 

I think the Andras underscores the merit of being open and willing to play with genre. This watch is mounted to a rubber strap, which naturally makes you think of a watch as being, if not sporty, at least markedly casual. It also, I think, telegraphs how Makina wants us to think about this watch, just as pairing it with an alligator strap (which could honestly work!) would have suggested a very different use case. 

The fact is, dressy watches (or watches that are adjacent to dress in some way) worn casually have long been a favorite style of mine. I think because it allows us to indulge a little in refinement without fully committing, it lets you express a certain preference or style in a really under the radar way. My daily attire, and my life in general, is aggressively casual, but my personal taste, the stuff I really like, is often a little more ornate. This is why watches like the Rivanera, the Andras, and the Arnos (on a rubber strap) all hold a certain appeal. They’re each straddling something in a slightly different way, and reveal a sense of taste that’s a little more complicated than aligning yourself with a single category. 

The Andras II retails for $890, which I think is an incredibly fair price to pay for a watch that is this distinct and original. Honestly, at this point, well into the era of “every watch is too expensive” according to Instagram comments, any watch that’s under $1,000 that is this well considered and coherent should be celebrated. It reminds me in some ways of an earlier era of microbrand watchmaking when there was just a little more of an adventurous spirit among the smaller, boutique brands. At some point we all veered a little too much toward generic, vintage inspired designs, and it feels like the pendulum is swinging back a little now in the other direction. That’s something we should all be thankful for, whether this particular example is personally appealing to you or not. Makina