Embrace the Bund: In Defense of the Bulkiest Strap in the Game

Let’s get one thing straight right out of the gate: the bund strap is not for the faint of wrist. It’s thick. It’s unapologetic. It makes your sleek dive watch feel like it’s wearing its own leather mattress. And yes, in the summer, it will make your wrist feel like the inside of a hot yoga studio.

But here’s the thing, I love them. I embrace them.

Whenever I wear a bund strap, I can almost feel the collective pearl-clutching of the minimalist watch crowd. “But they’re so bulky! They add so much height! They make my watch feel like it’s sitting on a stack of pancakes!”

Good. Let it.

Because a bund strap isn’t just about function or comfort (though, ironically, it started there), it’s about confidence. It’s about saying, “Yes, I am aware this makes my watch 40% thicker, and I’m fine with it.”

Bund straps, properly called “Bundeswehr” straps, were designed for German pilots during the 1930s and ’40s. The leather pad underneath the watch case served a real purpose: it protected wrists from metal cases that could either freeze or scald skin depending on cockpit temperatures, and it absorbed sweat to prevent corrosion.

And here’s where it gets weirdly polite in many articles. I’ve noticed that whenever certain watch writers reference the Bundeswehr, they suddenly become very vague. They’ll say things like “first used by German aviators in the mid-20th century” as though Germany was just a quiet little place with no major events happening around that time.

My gut instinct tells me that when someone doesn’t want to say “1930s Germany,” it usually means it was 1930s Germany. Let’s not make it weird. We all know.

Yes, it’s a bummer, that’s where the bund began. And yes, it’s worth a moment of reflection before strapping one on. It’s the same reason I’ll probably never wear a flieger watch again. I can’t unlearn what I know when I look at one. But the bund? The bund evolved.

By the 1960s and ’70s, bund straps had crossed from the cockpit to the catwalk, worn by the likes of Steve McQueen, the watch nerd’s patron saint of “cool without trying.” By then, the bund wasn’t about utility or military precision. It was about attitude. About breaking the mold.

When I look at a bund strap today, I don’t think “pilot.” I think “90s grunge musician with a notebook full of feelings.” I think of those thick leather wristbands worn by people who smell faintly of cigarettes and revolution.

There’s something inherently rebellious about a bund. It says, “Yes, I could wear a bracelet, but I’d rather wear this slab of confidence under my watch instead.”

And the modern bund has evolved beautifully. There are colors, textures, and materials that turn what was once a tool into a statement piece. I rotate mine seasonally, like a responsible adult with good taste.

Come late fall, when the air cools down and my wrist won’t turn into a slip-n-slide, the bunds come out to play.

• My Black Bay 58 Bronze looks like it was born on a bund.

• My Vertex M100A lives on a green Vario bund that makes it look like the best-dressed field watch in the platoon.

• My Vario Pilot rocks a brown bund, and when mixed with that creamy dial and brass case, it has real vintage charm.

• My Speedmaster Snoopy? Bright blue rally bund. Astronaut chic, and proof that I am a f*cking cartoon character. 

• And for my Studio Underd0g Watermelon, I went full Paul Newman Daytona fantasy and strapped it to a bright green crocodile bund. Heads turned. People questioned their life choices. It was glorious.

When I wear a bund in public, I usually get comments. Not the snarky kind; curious admiration. People think it’s “neat” or “different,” and they’re right. But here’s the real kicker: they only approach me because I already gave off a warm-enough vibe to make the bund feel approachable.

Bund straps are like social Rorschach tests. If you wear one with confidence, people see you as bold, fun, and interesting. If you wear one nervously, people see you as someone auditioning for a “WWII Reenactment of the Year” award.

I know it’s a-BUND-antly clear I have a problem…and maybe the bund isn’t your thing. That’s fine. Maybe you’re a rubber-strap-in-the-gym, NATO-on-weekends, Jubilee-on-Sundays kind of person. Maybe you love purple silicone straps and don’t care who knows it. Good. Own that.

Because at the end of the day, watches are supposed to be fun. They’re not relics of purity to be worshipped under glass; they’re tools of self-expression.

So if a bund calls your name this season, answer it. Roll up your sleeve. Strut out the door like the confident, slightly sweaty, unbothered individual you are.

After all, the bund doesn’t make you strange, it just makes you visible.

And honestly? That’s the point.