How one man is designing watches that outlast trends

There are microbrands, and then there’s Fleux. Not the loudest. Not the flashiest. But possibly the most quietly self-assured debut we’ve seen in years. Born from decades of collecting, refined by restraint, and steered by a one-man design philosophy that prizes permanence over trend, Fleux doesn’t shout for your attention. It earns it.

We sat down with Edward Cho, the founder, designer, and every-other-hat-wearer at Fleux, to talk about childhood memories of ticking Rados, the tension between tool and art, and why his latest release, the FLX004, might be his most quietly radical release yet.

Please introduce yourself to our readers.

Hey, my name is Edward Cho and I’m the founder, designer, managing director, quality assurance director, customer service representative and chief marketer of Fleux. In case you’re wondering, Fleux is pronounced “fl-ooks” – like a fluke, although the name is actually a portmanteau of “Fleuss” (the inventor of the modern rebreather) and “Flux” (because our designs will never stay the same).

Let’s go back to the beginning – not to FLEUX, but to that Rado your grandmother wore. You’ve said it made watches feel “alive” to you. What did that moment teach you about time? And how much of that memory still guides your design process today?

That’s a really deep question, and I have to admit I’ve been trying to figure out what it taught me about time. Although I didn’t realize it at the moment (I was only three years old), the memory has stayed with me—and I think, in retrospect, it taught me never to take time for granted.

There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to be back in that moment, watching my grandmother wind her watch—just to be with her, and to marvel at how something mechanical could feel so alive. That memory absolutely shapes my design process today.

I never want anything I create to feel fleeting. I’ve chased trends. Bought the hype. But when it comes to Fleux, I design with permanence in mind. Not what’s cool now, but what will still feel right years from now. Nothing fleeting. No shortcuts. Just objects that deserve your time—and return it in kind.

When you’re deep in the design process – past the mood boards, past the references – what’s the moment you know a watch is done? Not just technically finished, but complete enough to walk away from?

That’s a great question—and to be honest, my process is far from glamorous. I’ve been collecting watches for over two decades. I’ve followed the hype. Bought the “must-haves.” Chased lists telling me what every collector should own. But somewhere along the way, I learned to slow down.

Now, if something catches my eye, I give it time. A month, sometimes more. If I keep coming back to it, I know it’s more than impulse—it’s something lasting. That simple rule has saved me from regret ever since. It’s the same with design. When a new idea hits, I mock it up quickly in Photoshop—nothing fancy. Most designs don’t make it past that stage. But if something sticks, I’ll make it my phone lockscreen photo. I’ll live with it. See it a thousand times a day. Tweak it. Challenge it. And when I reach a point where I need to see it in three dimensions… that’s when I know it’s ready.

FLEUX didn’t start in a boardroom – it started in a collector’s mind. You’ve lived through decades of watch obsession, from Timex Ironmans to vintage divers. At what point did you realize that collecting wasn’t enough anymore – that you had something to say of your own.

As a somewhat latecomer to the microbrand scene, Fleux has been compared to two brands I have an enormous amount of admiration and respect for: Unimatic and Baltic. I was among their earliest customers and I’ve followed their journeys closely. Most of the comparisons I see are design oriented, which I find funny because my design process didn’t take either of those brands into consideration. The reason why people likely see similarities is because we likely derive our inspiration from similar vintage pieces, while integrating our own design language into something modern.

I’m mentioning these two brands because they inspired me to take the leap into launching Fleux. Simply put, they showed me it was possible to launch a non-Swiss watch brand squarely aimed at enthusiasts. Design-wise, I just wanted to make watches I actually wanted to wear. Year after year, I’d wait for my favorite brands to drop something like a faithful Blancpain Bund reissue. It never came. Or I’d hunt down the vintage piece itself, only to run into the usual dangers—radium dials, franken cases, no spare parts. Lastly, I just wanted to have some fun and see if I could get it done.

You’ve said: “True design doesn’t need to shout.” But the industry does – constantly. Loud colors, louder branding, limited editions that sell out in seconds. Do you think restraint still has a place in a world that rewards spectacle? Or are you building for a different kind of collector entirely?

I’ll be honest – everyone has to make a living, pay employees, ensure shareholder returns, etc. so, I understand why brands do what they have to do. I mean, I really wish my watches would sell out in seconds but that hasn’t happened yet.

What I can tell you from experience is, hype and trends come and go and you’ll never know what the market will find appealing in the future. Anything that plays off of trends and hype are designed for one thing and one thing only – to take a little bit (or a lot) of your pay cheque as fast as possible and give you a dopamine hit.

Then there are the brands that print their logos 10x the size they should be. At that point, is the actual design of the watch important or are you just buying the watch to advertise the brand for them?

Once a trend dies, what you’re left with is an object that is deeply rooted in a fleeting moment of time. To use an analogy from architecture – what would you rather live in: a mid-century modern masterpiece or a modernist home from the 1980s?

All of this to say – yes, I do believe there is space for restraint. In fact, I think it’s really important now more than ever. I’m designing for a collector or even a first time buyer that wants a watch that will stand the test of time, look good in a suit, jeans and t-shirt or 100m below the surface. Someone that appreciates being asked: “That’s a cool watch, what is that?” versus “Oh, that’s the XYZ I see everywhere!”.

There’s a quiet defiance in FLEUX. The FLX001 and FLX002 were clearly designed with a knowing wink to the past. But the FLX004? This one feels different. Cleaner. Colder. Sharper. What shifted in you between the first watch and this one?

After concentrating on collecting dive watches for the better part of 10+ years, I guess I just started to veer off into different corners of watch design again. Namely: dressier, minimal and with a hint of unique details.

The FLX004 strips everything back. It’s almost monastic in its restraint. No date, no clutter. Why take it that far? What are you trying to remove – both from the design, and maybe from the conversation around watches?

As with any designer/creator, I’m trying to have a dialogue with the market. One thing I’ve never really understood is the idea that a tool watch must only be worn while doing the activity it was intended for. At the end of the day, whether people realize it or not, watches are just as much tools as they are art and fashion and therefore, whatever works, works.

How many dive watch buyers are actual divers? How many divers rely on a mechanical watch when they go diving? If they are, are they diving below 100m? Are the vintage specs of a dive watch rendered useless now because there are better materials in use now? And if they are useless, why did it work when these tools were actually used as they were intended but not now?

All I’m trying to say is, who gives a f*ck about what something “should” be. History favours the bold. Hence: #nofleuxgiven.

The FLX004 closes your Skin Diver chapter. Looking back, what did this series teach you – about design, about storytelling, and about the people who wear your watches?

Coming from the world of usability design, you quickly learn that people use systems in their own way. You can try to optimize your design to be universally understood and what you quickly learn is, there is no such thing as universal understanding. It’s similar with watch design. Basically, you design a watch inspired by one thing, and people see something completely different.

This is amazing to me because when I started, I thought I’d only attract seasoned watch collectors who saw the references and/or playfulness of the designs. Instead, I’ve had the pleasure of interacting with everyone from high-end collectors to a uni-student who saved up for a while and just thought Fleux was new and interesting.

If there’s one common denominator amongst all my customers, it’s that they’re all genuinely nice and incredibly supportive of what Fleux stands for and strives to be.

Picture someone 30 years from now, wearing the FLX004 – worn-in strap, maybe a few scratches on the bezel, still ticking. What do you hope they feel? What kind of person, deep down, do you think this watch belongs to?

This is the goal and I hope I run into this person. To keep something for 30 years means you cared for it and that’s really rare in today’s world. I mean, look at how everyone marvels at how the Japanese are able to keep prized cars in such good shape. Common place there, rare everywhere else. Why is that? Could it be that they care enough to learn how to take of something that’s meaningful to them? I hope they still think the watch is dope but more importantly, I hope their watch got a front row seat to one hell of an amazing-adventure-of-a-life with stories and legends to tell.

I don’t really feel this watch belongs to anyone type of person per se – but so far, they seem to be humble, genuine, kind and into details often overlooked by others.

Since this is an interview for FLTR, I have to ask, what’s your favorite way to enjoy coffee and brew it?

I wake up every day and make an Americano for me and my wife. Way back before the world was introduced to the term “Barista” by Starbucks, I worked behind the bar at a shitty old Italian pool hall and made espressos for the regulars. There’s something about the ritual of it all that’s meditative to me; but to be clear, I’m no coffee snob. I like it all – from quick gas station coffee to the latest pour over brand from Kyoto.

But my absolute favourite of all time was in a random dive bar in Naples. I was leaving the city early in the morning by train and while walking to the station, I walked into the only bar that was open. The bartender was furiously stirring something in a big plastic bucket and I asked for an espresso. When he gave me my cup, he said something to me in Italian and proceeded to put a dollop of whatever he was stirring and smiled as if to say: “Enjoy! Now Drink It!” It was the most delicious coffee/espresso I have ever tasted and I still have no idea what it was.

A close second – Tully’s Black Coffee from Japan. Yes, it’s Tully’s. Yes, it comes in a can. Yes, it’s found in combinis and vending machines.

Just trust me. : )

In a landscape where watches compete to be seen, Fleux makes a case for being kept. For living with something long enough that it becomes yours in the truest sense—worn-in, not worn out. The FLX004 is more than just the end of a design chapter. It’s a bet on the kind of collector who’s playing the long game.

Someone who cares. Someone who notices. Someone who, 30 years from now, might glance down at a scratched bezel and remember a life well worn.

And if that person’s drinking canned coffee from a Japanese vending machine? All the better.