October 23, 2025 |
There’s a certain kind of London story that feels pulled from a film script, the sort where two brothers raised on a South London council estate start by selling Cartiers out of cafés and end up becoming Mayfair’s most-watched watch dealers, all before they reach their thirties. Meet Harvey Hutson, 30, and Jacob Hutson, 27, who are better known – on Instagram, on the streets and, increasingly, in serious horology circles – as the Kettle Kids.
The name is a nod to cockney rhyming slang: kettle and hob, to rhyme with fob, another word for a watch. It’s cheeky. But it also underscores what they’ve built: an empire of fine timepieces, born not from inheritance or Hatton Garden polish, though the boys used to trade there, but from hands-on hustles – Harvey valeting cars, Jacob tiling – and a self-funded, family-driven grind, with their dad and granddad still firmly involved in the business.
from left: Harvey and Jacob in the appointment room in the basement of their Maddox Street store, with a painting by Slawn hanging behind them
When I meet them in their appointment room, a black-walled cocoon on Mayfair’s Maddox Street with orange velvet sofas and a bold painting by buzzy British-Nigerian artist Slawn smirking down at us, it feels like I’ve walked into a curated collision of chaos and control. The vibe is unmistakably theirs: playful, confident, almost like a gallery. Harvey is on his phone, fielding a call from someone asking if they take crypto. Jacob is laying out a freshly serviced Rolex Day-Date like it’s a museum piece. There is music playing. I think it’s Drake. It’s 11am.
“We get in early,” Harvey tells me, “to sort the messages, have a little team brief if we’re both here, then it’s just… go.” The day isn’t mapped out so much as absorbed. Stock updates, client appointments, people turning up unannounced with Audemars Piguet Royal Oaks in their coat pockets; it all folds into the flow. “It’s all WhatsApp and DMs,” Jacob adds. “Emails too, but people send us a picture of their watch and say, ‘What will you give me for this?’”
from left: Jacob captures watches for the brand’s social media and a selection of watches by Cartier and Rolex
That informality is their secret sauce. The Kettle Kids aren’t selling watches so much as selling access to a network, to a lifestyle, to them. They’re charismatic and unfiltered online, posting every acquisition, delivery and gleaming caseback like it’s breaking news. It works. “We’ve always been consistent with posting,” says Jacob. “That’s what built the following.” There’s no illusion of luxury theatre here. It’s raw, real-time resale with a street-smart edge, and their followers, which includes rappers, athletes, traders, teenage crypto-heads and people who simply want to know whether a Patek Philippe Nautilus is still a flex, lap it up.
Their origin story has already passed into watch-world folklore. They started at their nan’s house, using £1,000 she loaned them (interest included). “We gave her 10 per cent on it,” says Harvey, deadpan. “No handouts. That was the first loan.” They reinvested everything. There was no trust fund, no family connection to Mayfair. Just a few smart flips and the right energy. “We were both at that weird in-between stage. [We had] just left school and didn’t know what we wanted to do. We weren’t looking at further education or anything like that – we just wanted to hustle,” Jacob says. “So we didn’t plan it. We just kept buying, selling, growing.” Soon, they were holding onto more stock than most of the guys they used to look up to. While others were brokering watches they didn’t own, Harvey and Jacob doubled down on buying them outright. “I still think stock is key,” says Harvey. “If you’ve got it physically here, people trust it more. They walk in, they see the watch, then they try it on. It’s real.”
displays inside the boutique
Being real is, perhaps, the thing they guard most. Despite their growing team and multiple channels of communication, the brothers still deal directly with most of their clients. “I reckon I still speak to 90 per cent of them,” says Harvey. “Even if it’s just to confirm the price.” It’s not a control thing, it’s part of the relationship. Their clientele spans first-time buyers, long-time collectors, young connoisseurs, old money and everything in between. “One of our clients came in at 14,” Jacob says, grinning. “Crypto kid. He’d flipped a coin into a Cartier.” Another came in with three watches he’d bought off a friend at college. “He made five grand on the flip,” Harvey adds. “Now he’s here every few months.”
But it’s not just about kids with QR codes. They get City traders who want an investment piece, dads buying their sons a first watch and men in their sixties looking for that one missing reference number from their collection. “The best clients are the ones who care,” says Jacob. “You can tell when someone’s got a passion for it.” It’s also usually the ones who ask the fewest questions. “When someone DMs us, like, 20 times, asking for a discount, it’s probably not a serious buyer,” Harvey says, with that half-smile that tells you it happens daily.
from left: a selection of watches by Patek Philippe and Richard Mille; the Hutson brothers in their store’s appointment room
The past few years have been a rollercoaster for the watch market. There was a boom during the lockdowns that sent values skyward, and everyone wanted in. “We had a very good Covid,” Jacob admits. “One week, we sold about 72 watches. Everything was flying. Watches became like assets.” But the correction came swiftly. “We watched our stock drop 20, 30 per cent,” Harvey says. “People thought we were mad holding so much.” But they kept at it, navigating dips with the same intuition they used to spot trends. “It’s all timing,” says Jacob. “Literally.”
There’s pressure now, more than before. Their names are on the shop window, in their Instagram bios, in their deals. With staff to manage, rent to pay and a market that’s no longer on fire, mistakes have consequences. “You can’t get it wrong,” Harvey says. “When it was just us, it didn’t matter. But now, every decision counts.” They’ve become more selective, more strategic. “I used to buy every watch someone offered,” Harvey says with a laugh. “Now I only touch it if it’s right.”
displays inside the boutique include Rolexes (top row) and Audemars Piguets (bottom row)
In October, the boys are set to open a five-floor flagship store in Mayfair: Kettle Kids Townhouse. Located at 38 Old Bond Street, it will have a Georgian façade clad in Portland limestone, dark brown stucco and interiors that dance between old-money interiors and sharp, contemporary cool. The main atelier will feel like it’s been plucked from the past and power-washed with modern taste, with its traditional panelling, chequered floors and a moody colour palette that’s shot through with a dash of irreverent modernity. There will also be a library at the back that glows like a light box and a wine-cellar lounge where the pair will have one-to-one appointments. It’s giving heritage with bite, retail with a plot twist. That Mayfair move? It’ll make them one of the youngest brands to ever drop anchor on the poshest stretch of commercial property in the Western world. No big investors. No corporate overlords. Just two lads with a dream and the nerve to build a jewel box of a boutique in the belly of Old Bond Street.
Still, there’s the same hunger underneath. The same drive that got them from that first deal to putting a Slawn on the wall. “There are watches we haven’t even seen yet,” Harvey says. “Stuff I want to sell, just for the experience.” Jacob nods in agreement. “Some crazy vintage Pateks. Rare [Rolex] Daytonas. A few unicorns,” Harvey continues. You get the sense they’re chasing not just the margin, but the magic, the thrill of finding something truly rare.
from left: first look of the store upon entry through the two sets of security doors; steel display cases
Speaking of Slawn, that relationship started out with a straight trade – the painting hanging behind me during our conversation was exchanged for a watch. That interaction quickly turned into a creative partnership built on mutual respect and shared ambition. Their first limited-run custom Rolex drop sold out in hours and now they’re gearing up for round two: a bold, art-covered Day-Date Presidential that’s sure to blur the line between street culture and high-end horology.
They’re not trying to become a chain, though. “I don’t want 10 shops,” Jacob says. “I just want this one to be the best.” And in many ways, it already feels like its own world – a self-contained universe where watches are currency, DMs are contracts and trust is built one iced-out Cartier Tank at a time.
As I leave their appointment room, the music is still playing, a client is on their way in and Jacob is already halfway into another deal. There is something oddly elegant about it all; it’s chaotic, yes, but also precise. Like the best kind of watch: engineered to function in motion. The Kettle Kids have time on their side. And they know exactly what to do with it.
Photography by Jason Lloyd-Evans. Taken from 10 Men Issue 62 – BIRTHDAY, EVOLVE, TRANSFORMATION – out on newsstands now. Order your copy here.
