The husband of a billionaire heiress joins us for coffee in the morning sometimes after our swim off North Bondi circa 530am. Lately it's been very cold and there is a certain style of apprehension every morning when my phone starts to go ding-a-ling associated with cold fingers that didn't stay under the duvet.
I only mention the billions because it's something that seems relevant to 'The Stack' that he sports on his wrist. It was once said to me that the only people to wear stacks were creatives, the heads of companies and the children of the heads of companies. I am not sure who told me all this but I believe it was a Northern Italian who was explaining that everyone else underneath would not dare to be so outlandish. Only those guilty of nepotism or those that were absolutely killing it in their own right would have such big kahunas. Everybody else was trying to conform so they could get ahead. I am crapping on too much. Let me get to the point.
I promised myself I would never get a stack. But my friend was naturally confident wearing his stack and I came to find them very charming. I owned but one Rubinacci bracelet from a habadasher since gone out of business. My friend told me about Maor Cohen, the Los Angeles based bracelet designed and his go to contact for his Stack.
What can I say, I thought to myself, well, technically I own my business, and I am a CEO I guess. I am creative, I am an artisan. I probably never recognise that. So, what the hell, let's give it a go.
Three months later I have something to tell you, stacking is fun. Stacking is easier to wear than I thought, it just feels like a second wrist watch. And stacking is charming to look at when you have nothing to do but twiddle your thumbs. No, I will never be a billionaire, perhaps never even a millionaire. But I am at the helm of my tiny silk chop shop and I think I have earned my right to a stack.