Toledano & Chan Oshinobi: A Little Horological Lingerie
I call it “horological lingerie.” That is quite an introduction to a watch, particularly one that initially looks like a slab of industrial titanium.
But the description makes sense. The new Toledano & Chan Oshinobi hides two carats of snow-set diamonds beneath a sliding cover. The wearer knows what is there. Everyone else gets to find out by invitation.
For a brand that made its name with bold, architectural watches, choosing to conceal the dial feels like an unexpected turn. Look back through the original B/1 Lapis, the B/1.2 Mother of Pearl and the B/1.3r Gold Ripple, though, and the connection becomes clear. Toledano & Chan has always used strong geometry as a frame for expressive materials. With the Oshinobi, that relationship becomes something you discover rather than simply see.
Lapis: The First Statement
The original B/1 established the brand’s identity with a lapis lazuli dial inside its angular steel architecture.
The combination worked because both elements had something to contribute. The case supplied the uncompromising geometry, while the blue stone brought richness and natural variation. It was a strong opening statement from Alfred Chan and me, with a shape that made you stop and look.
For me, that remains the important bit. A watch can have an excellent movement and still leave you completely unmoved.
This was also my first taste of Toledano & Chan. Trying on Andrew McUtchen’s watch for the first time gave me an instant connection to the brand. I understood its design language and felt a connection on another level.
The B/1 gave you a reason to care before you reached the specifications. It also established a recognisable foundation. The question was what we would do with it next.
Mother of Pearl: A Personal Favourite
The B/1.2 answered with Tahitian mother of pearl beneath an asymmetrical sapphire crystal, retaining a 33.5mm steel case.
That dial changed the mood. Where lapis delivered a strong blue presence, mother of pearl offered shifting colour and reflections. The architecture stayed assertive, but the surface inside it became more elusive.
I own this version, so the progression has a personal connection. For someone whose collection has largely revolved around dive watches, the B/1.2 represents a welcome departure. No rotating bezel, no heroic depth rating, and absolutely no need to pretend it might accompany me into the sea.
The appeal comes from the relationship between the parts. The bracelet continues the case, the crystal adds another angle, and the dial gives the eye something organic to explore. It is a watch that rewards looking at it, which is rather useful when that is what enthusiasts spend half their time doing.
Gold Ripple: Texture Takes Over
With the B/1.3r, we introduced a solid 18ct gold ripple dial, a Grade 5 titanium case and bracelet, smaller proportions and Swiss manufacture.
The warm gold surface gave the design a different character again. Its ripple texture made the dial feel sculptural, adding depth to a watch already built around shape.
For me, this was a convincing development. The case material and proportions evolved alongside the dial, giving the release substance beyond another colour option.
Across those three pieces, the design language became increasingly clear: a strong architectural form, paired with a material that rewards closer attention. The Oshinobi keeps that foundation but changes the experience. Instead of presenting its most precious detail immediately, it makes the wearer reveal it.
The Idea Behind the Cover
In developing the Oshinobi, I found that two ideas came together.
One was my interest in the hidden-bracelet watches women wore in the 1960s and 1970s. I admired the way a beautiful bracelet could conceal a small dial, and wished that approach had been explored for men.
The other was the world expensive watches now inhabit. Wearing an obviously valuable watch, particularly one with diamonds, can attract unwanted attention.
The Oshinobi brings those thoughts together in a sandblasted grey titanium bracelet with an industrial appearance. Slide the cover open and the diamond dial appears. The name refers to the Japanese word for incognito, evoking a person of high stature travelling undercover.
Concealment cannot guarantee safety, but the design gives the wearer control over when the dial becomes visible. That choice is central to its appeal.
A Watch Made for “Check This Out”
The Oshinobi also captures a familiar ritual among watch enthusiasts. Someone notices a watch, it comes off the wrist, and within seconds everyone is passing it around.
The Oshinobi adds a moment of theatre to that exchange. A friend shows you their watch, asks where yours is, and you slide the cover aside.
There is something enjoyable about a design that anticipates how people will share it. The mechanism becomes part of the conversation, rather than simply another specification to recite.
And “horological lingerie” neatly captures the private pleasure behind it. The expensive part stays hidden until the owner chooses otherwise. A little extravagant? Certainly. But watches lost the argument about strict necessity quite some time ago.
Watch Brothers Thoughts
Diamonds rarely lead my watch shopping list. The Oshinobi makes them considerably more interesting by giving them a place in a considered design.
The contrast between an austere exterior and a sparkling interior is appealing, but the concept also adds a human element. There is nostalgia for hidden-bracelet watches, a response to contemporary concerns, and an understanding of how enthusiasts interact.
That does not settle the practical questions. I would want to try the sliding cover, assess the bracelet on the wrist and see how easily the exposed dial reads. A clever concept still has to work as an object.
My B/1.2 remains the natural everyday favourite. Its mother of pearl is always there to enjoy. The Oshinobi offers something different: the pleasure of keeping a detail to yourself, then sharing it.
The first Oshinobi is a prototype destined for the TimeForArt auction at Phillips on 5 December 2026, supporting the Swiss Institute. A limited production version is also planned for 2027.
From lapis to mother of pearl, then gold ripple and now hidden diamonds, Toledano & Chan continues to develop its ideas without losing its identity. The Oshinobi feels like a new chapter in that exploration.
It also gives the familiar phrase “let me show you my watch” a rather better punchline.