Wristwatches weren’t always worn on the wrist, as odd as that may sound today. In the early days until the late 19th and even early 20th century, timepieces were tucked into waistcoats, fobs, or belts—carried, not worn. To wear one on the wrist, especially as a man, was widely viewed as unnecessary and even effeminate. That changed sharply with the war.
During the Boer War, and even more profoundly during the First World War, soldiers needed to read the time quickly and without fuss. Digging around in a coat or tunic for a pocket watch wasn’t just inconvenient; it could be dangerous. The result? Soldiers began fashioning crude leather loops to tie pocket watches onto their wrists. These were the earliest forms of what we’d now call trench watches—crucial improvisations that transformed the very culture of timekeeping.
The earliest commercial wristwatches adopted fixed wire lugs to accommodate straps. They were basic, typically using pigskin or cowhide leather, and were often hand-stitched. Buckles mirrored the belt buckles of the time—practical, unrefined, and prone to cracking under moisture. But watchmakers soon realised that the strap wasn’t just a means to an end. It was part of the experience and, in many cases, the brand identity.
A strap can dress a watch up or down faster than a tailor can do the same to you.
-Kev Green
One of the most important early developments was the deployant clasp, generally attributed to Louis Cartier in the 1910s. Unlike a traditional buckle, this design allowed the strap to fold into itself via a locking mechanism. It was neater, offered more security, and protected the leather from excess bending. Although it began as a dressier alternative to the pin buckle, deployants have since found their way into everyday sports watches, often with micro-adjust features that allow for fine-tuning throughout the day.
As the 20th century rolled on, the evolution of straps accelerated. During the Second World War, watches became essential military tools, and the straps had to be up to the task. Waterproofing, durability, and simplicity became paramount. This led to the eventual creation of what we now call the NATO strap—though that name is a bit of a red herring. The NATO strap was officially born in 1973 as a specification issued by the British Ministry of Defence. Known internally as the G10 strap (because of the requisition form used to order one), it was a single piece of nylon webbing that passed through both spring bars and underneath the watch case itself. This meant that if one spring bar failed, the watch would remain attached. They were cheap, rugged, easy to wash, and could be mass-produced with ease. And when Sean Connery wore a nylon strap on his Rolex Submariner in Goldfinger, the NATO—or something close to it—suddenly had pop culture appeal.
Zulu straps came later, with thicker weaves and heftier metal keepers. Paratroopers, divers, and astronauts began adapting their own strap systems—some with Velcro closures, some with multi-layered safety loops. At the same time, leather was evolving too. No longer just a workhorse material, it became a statement of class. Companies like Hirsch and Camille Fournet refined the tanning, dyeing, and stitching techniques. Horween leather from Chicago became a kind of shorthand for quality in the US. Nubuck, suede, and shell cordovan began making appearances.
But not all leathers are created equal, and this is where things get complicated. Exotic leathers—like those made from crocodile, alligator, lizard, ostrich, shark, and stingray—entered the luxury space. Some of these are beautiful and durable, no question. Stingray, known as galuchat, has a pebbled, almost beaded appearance and is among the toughest natural materials available for strapmaking. The problem lies in sourcing. Many of these animals are protected under CITES, the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species. Some farms are licensed and operate ethically as by-products of food industries. But the market has long been plagued by grey areas.
A growing number of small strap sellers, particularly in Vietnam, Thailand, and parts of Indonesia, now claim to offer all sorts of exotic leathers—stingray, python, “dragonfish,” cobra skin, and so on. And while a fraction of these may be legal and responsibly sourced, many likely are not. Enforcement of CITES varies by country, and documentation is often forged or missing altogether. When a strap made of stingray is being sold for twenty dollars on a back-alley marketplace with no proof of origin, one has to question whether it’s legitimate or whether we’re indirectly contributing to illegal wildlife trade. That said, some Vietnamese artisans are producing genuinely stunning handmade straps from cowhide or ethically sourced water buffalo. It’s not all shady, but buyers do need to tread carefully.

In response to this murky corner of the strap world, the vegan movement has carved out a space of its own. Today’s vegan straps are not just cheap plastic imitations of leather. They range from high-quality polyurethane alternatives to more experimental materials like Piñatex, made from pineapple leaf fibres, and Mylo, a leather alternative grown from mushrooms. Apple peel leather is gaining ground, particularly in Europe. These options are more sustainable and appeal to a growing audience that wants luxury without harm. Durability varies, of course. Some vegan leathers hold up beautifully, others suffer under sweat or flex. But the best ones now come close to traditional leather in terms of wear, feel, and even scent.
Beyond leather and nylon, rubber has had its own journey. Early dive watches in the 1950s and 60s used basic rubber straps, which were stiff and often cracked over time. But pioneers like Isofrane developed better moulds that could resist saltwater and UV damage. Tropic rubber straps, with their perforated diamond patterns and supple feel, became classics in their own right. Modern high-end brands like Hublot, Omega, and Richard Mille have taken rubber to another level, using vulcanised and blended compounds, sometimes with inner metal cores, to provide both comfort and longevity.
Then there’s the world of metal mesh. Milanese bracelets, which date back to 19th-century Italy, blend flexibility with a polished, refined look. They’re not quite a strap, not quite a bracelet, but something elegant in between. These have experienced a renaissance lately, often appearing on Bauhaus-inspired watches and vintage reissues. Modern meshes in titanium or PVD-coated stainless steel add even more resilience.
And we haven’t even touched on the technical tweaks. Quick-release spring bars are one of the best things to happen to watch enthusiasts in recent memory. No more fiddling with tools or worrying about scratched lugs—just pinch the built-in toggle and swap your strap in seconds. It encourages customisation, expands the fun, and makes even a modest watch collection feel like it has infinite variation. Curved end links, designed to follow the shape of the case rather than jutting out awkwardly, offer a more integrated, finished look. Some brands have even developed tool-free micro-adjusting clasps, letting you loosen or tighten the strap mid-day as your wrist swells or the weather changes.
Pin buckles remain the standard for most straps, beloved for their simplicity and ease of adjustment. But deployant clasps—particularly those with twin-folding arms and push-button releases—have won many fans for their ability to extend the life of a leather strap. They’re less fiddly than they once were, and when done right, almost disappear under the wrist.
Straps have played covert roles, too. During the French Resistance, some leather straps were rumoured to contain hidden compartments for microfilm or cyanide pills. In the Cold War, intelligence agents supposedly hollowed out NATO-style straps to hide coded messages. While some of these tales may have wandered into legend, they underscore the strap’s unlikely but significant presence in the margins of world history.
So, what should you wear on your wrist? That depends entirely on your watch, your wrist, and your values. Leather lends timeless elegance. Nylon gives you rugged, care-free charm. Rubber is perfect for the beach. Steel or mesh adds resilience and sophistication. Vegan options give you peace of mind. And sometimes, switching between them is half the fun.
Straps may not tick, but they tell their own time-worn stories. They’re not just accessories to the watch—they’re often accessories to history.
Read About – The Exotic Truth: Stingrays, Snakeskins and the Watch Strap Grey Zone – CLICK HERE >>