Driving Design: European Cars and a Family Heirloom Seamaster

Ansel Iisaka is an industrial designer, watch lover, and European car enthusiast. 

Laid back with a thick beard, and often dressed in 1970s-esque attire, Iisaka doesn’t seem like your average mechanic, nor does he reveal much about his deep knowledge of watches. When asked about his propensity for both, he admits that growing up among the enthusiast cars that his father collected, drove hard, and cycled through may have caused him to feel “desensitized to rare or exotic cars.” Instead, he focused on what he calls, “really well-made, practical cars that I could use every day.” The first of these workhorse vehicles? A Volvo 240, one of the most iconic and reliable European cars ever built.

Despite earning ASE certification in automotive service while still in high school, Iisaka chose to pursue the pen-and-paper side of his passion for mechanical artistry, and after completing a degree in industrial design, he found himself drafting concepts for several microbrand watch companies—an area he’d never considered before. While Iisaka states that he can’t reveal those projects due to contractual obligations, he has had a hand in designing field watches and vintage skin divers for a well-known microbrand. “I love all well-built mechanical things, especially those that were designed for longevity and repairability,” he explains. 

That appreciation for watches wasn’t immediate, though. It took a very special timepiece, handed down to him from his grandfather and mother, to ignite the passion for Iisaka: a broken, Canadian-market Omega Seamaster, with a pinstripe on the dial. 

“I heard my grandfather remark about how he accidentally destroyed his old watch while saving my mom from a bicycle accident,” he says, reaching into his pocket to produce the watch and slip it onto his wrist. “I asked if I could have it, because I just love cool old things.” His grandfather knew the risks; Iisaka had garnered a reputation among family and friends for fixing just about anything, from junkyard car finds to appliances around his apartment. Even more importantly, though, he had earned his own identity as an artist, musician, and eccentric, which made him the perfect recipient of a watch as beautiful and quirky as the Seamaster. His grandfather sent him a photo, just to make sure he was still interested, and the rest was history. 

“Despite the shattered crystal, and uniquely patina’d dial, I could make out the ‘Omega Seamaster’ text, with the applied indexes still shiny,” Iisaka says as he shows me the watch, now sporting a handsome blue leather strap and a fresh mechanical and cosmetic restoration. It took Iisaka months to track down the parts and even longer to find the right person to help fix the parts that he couldn’t, but the Seamaster is now restored to its former glory, with well-earned scratches and dings accompanying his grandfather’s initials and college graduation date on the case. When I asked him why he wanted to save it and not sell it, his answer was simple: “How could I not? It’s one of those things I’ll give my kids, too.”

When it comes to cars, Iisaka has retained a love for old Volvos and Mercedes, as is evident by the crowd of vehicles in his driveway. Parked next to his 1966 Volvo Amazon—another high school-era project waiting for a proper re-restoration—is his 1989 Mercedes 560SEC, and the 300E he purchased and restored for his mom. My own 1983 Volvo 240 is sandwiched in the middle, ready to receive an inspection from Iisaka. The type of guy to wrench on cars while wearing open-toed shoes, Iisaka nonetheless makes sure to take off the Seamaster before getting his hands dirty. 

“[Watches and cars] occupy the exact same spot of the brain,” he says, wriggling beneath my 240 to check the rear shocks and sway bar, “people love their cars for different reasons, it could be perceived status, utility, nostalgia, design or, god forbid, investment…the same thing applies to watches.” He also notes that you can often guess what kind of watch a person will be wearing based on the car they’re driving, and points to me as an example; on my wrist as we chat is my Sinn EZM7, a watch that is as indestructible and functional as the Swedish brick I drove up in. 

As we finish up our conversation, I ask Iisaka about his favorite cars and watches, aside from the ones he owns. “The Volvo P1800 with the early bumpers and the chrome ‘swoosh’ on the door” is his first answer. After some more thought, he added a few more, with the Fiat Supersonic 8V and Mercedes 280SE topping the list. His take on watches is a little more sentimental, though, as he emphasizes that the emotional connection to a family heirloom like his Seamaster will always trump a newer, more valuable piece. “In another universe my grandad smashed up his Timex or Seiko and it would still be my favorite watch.”

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