The ampersand
This site is called Watch & Brew, and it lives at watchandbrew.com. The first watch on it has the same problem, seventy-odd years earlier.
I registered the domain for this site before I had written a word on it, and ran straight into something I already knew and had never had to think about: you cannot put an ampersand in a web address.
Hostnames are letters, digits and hyphens. That is the whole alphabet. The &
is not merely discouraged, it is reserved — in a URL it is the character that
separates one query parameter from the next, so even where it survives it has to
be smuggled through as %26. The name is Watch & Brew. The address is
watchandbrew.com. There is no version of this where those two are the same
string, and the mild irritation of that is what sent me looking at the dial of
the watch on my desk.
Because it has the same split. Under the twelve, beneath the Maltese cross, this one is signed Vacheron & Constantin, Genève. Two names and an ampersand, because that is what the firm was: two people, joined by a conjunction. The house stopped putting it on dials at some point after this watch was made. Modern ones just say Vacheron Constantin, and the join has quietly closed up.
So the ampersand is a thing that lives on the object and not in the index. It is
on the dial, on the letterhead, in the way you say the name out loud — and it
falls off the moment the name has to be filed, catalogued, typed into a
database, or resolved by a nameserver. Watch dealers write “Vacheron
Constantin”. I write watchandbrew.com. Both of us keep the ampersand for the
part a person actually looks at.
Which is, more or less, the argument for keeping a site like this at all. The grid and the marketplace listing want the filed version: brand, reference, year, condition, price. This is the other one.