In an age of hyper-technical complication and roaring metallic statements, there exists a quieter, more profound luxury. It is the luxury of a secret known only to you; a private universe measured not in seconds, but in awe. This is the realm inhabited by Kari Voutilainen’s 28ti, and more specifically, by this unique commission: a titanium-cased observatory for the soul, with a dial of grand feu enamel depicting the Uranographia of Johann Bode.

The 28ti is, in itself, a marvel of understated engineering. Its 39mm case is forged from Grade 5 titanium, not for sporty bravado, but for its featherlight comfort and a subtle, warm grey lustre that whispers rather than shouts. It is the perfect canvas for what is to come.

But to call the dial a mere face is to call the Sistine Chapel a ceiling. This is a miniature painting of celestial cartography. Master enamellist Mikail A. spent over 80 hours applying vitreous enamel powders onto a gold base, firing it in a kiln at 800°C multiple times. A single miscalculation, a hidden bubble, and the entire piece would shatter, consigning weeks of work to the dustbin. The result is a deep, resonant midnight blue, a background of such profound depth it feels less like a colour and more like a void. Upon it, constellations are traced in fine gold leaf—Ursa Major, Cassiopeia, Draco—their forms precise, yet alive with the slight, human quiver of the artisan’s hand.

This is not a watch for checking the time in a boardroom. It is a piece for the solitary moment in a library, when the fire crackles and the light catches the enamel just so, revealing the secret galaxy beneath the glass. It is a reminder that the greatest luxury is not ownership, but a personal connection to history, art, and the infinite. With a price hovering around £350,000, it is less a timepiece and more a wearable heirloom, a fragment of the night sky, captured forever.