wear os watch face
First Bake
In developmentWear OS 4, 5 and 6 · round displays
A neighbourhood bakery, from the dark hour before dawn to the shutter coming down. The oven is your battery, the queue is your notifications, the dough proves across the hour, and the shelves really do empty as the day goes on. Rina has run the place since she was twenty-nine; Tad has been her apprentice for fourteen months and is still scared of the oven.
In development: the face is built and validated and every check passes, but the artwork is still placeholder and it has not yet been tested on a physical watch.
The shop has a working day — eight of them
At two in the morning the shop is dark and one person is already in there working. By four the first bake is on and the window is going blue. At six the shutter goes up and the sign turns. Eight to eleven is the rush, full sun, shelves loaded. By the afternoon half the rack is bare, and by seven the shutter is coming down again. Most of that you will never see, which is the reason to keep it on.
Everything reacts, and there is more of it than on any face we have made
- Every second five things move on five different rhythms — the flame, the paper bunting, the sparrow, the steam and the dust in the window beam. They only line up once every seventy-seven minutes, so the dial never looks like it is ticking.
- Every minute the dough moves on: slack, risen, knocked back, scored, in the tin, baked. The window beam sweeps down and back over the half hour.
- On the hour the door bell rings, a full tray lands on the rack and the dough starts again.
- On the half hour the oven timer pings, the door swings open and the sparrow startles off the sill. No other face here has two.
- As the battery drains the heat retreats across the room toward the oven — and the flour sack empties to match, so you can read it from either side of the dial without either one being a gauge.
- Battery low and the oven drops to a cold ember, the sign flips whatever the hour says, the last loaf on the tray is the burnt one — and Kome lands on the counter and looks straight out at you. It is the only eye contact anywhere on the dial.
- On charge the baker feeds the oven: the flame goes white, sparks lift off the mouth and the flour sack fills back up.
- New messages are the queue. One is a single customer at the counter; six is a line going back to a propped-open door, with an order slip on the rail for each one (only the count is read, never the content).
A different bake every day, and a card that fills every month
Seven bakes, one for each day of the week — milk bread, seeded rye, cinnamon rolls, a fruit tart, focaccia, sweet buns, and on Sunday a big scored celebration loaf. On the wall, a loyalty card takes one stamp a day and is full at the end of the month. Four times a year the bunting and the window display change with the season.
Everything else
- two bakers, Rina or Tad — and choosing one does not remove the other: whoever you pick comes to the counter and the other goes to the oven, so both are on the dial all day
- numerals in Chalk, Amber or Green
- four planes of the shop that shift as you tilt your wrist — tilt one way and the sparrow turns his head toward you, tilt the other and you can see what is left in the basket under the counter
- the date written on a price tag clipped to the rack
- twelve settings: date, stamps, order slips, queue, sparrow, season, steam, window beam, flour sack and door sign each on or off
- a near-black, completely still dial in always-on mode: a thin oven outline, one shelf edge and a sparrow-shaped silhouette
Not on Google Play yet
First Bake is still being built and tested on real watches. It will be sold on Google Play for €1 plus VAT once it has passed that testing. Questions in the meantime: paphitisbiz@gmail.com.
Original work
Rina, Tad, Kome, the shop and every element of this face were created for it. No existing character, series or studio is referenced or reused.