In the middle of the summer, great vintage watches do not take a break, and here you will find a selection of our weekly favorites. You will see an Omega chronograph with a 321 movement and an early Heuer Autavia GMT, among others – but it won't only be about chronographs. There is also a late Rolex Submariner 5513 with a lovely patina, and a fashion-oriented Nivada Grenchen Colorama for women. This is your Bring A Loupe for July 29, 2016.

An Omega Chronograph CK 2886, With Caliber 321

The alpha handset does not lie – this chronograph was manufactured in the mid-1950s, and remains in outstanding condition, with the radium developing a gorgeous patina. I especially like the sobriety of the dial, which only bears the Omega line, and not the Seamaster designation. The dial also has a discreet outer tachymeter scale – a reminder of the tachymeter bezel of the later Speedmaster, with which this chronograph shares the highly regarded caliber 321. The case is still sharp, and the case back is engraved, which to me always adds a bit of charm to a vintage piece.

The dealer Lunar Oyster is offering this splendid Omega chronograph here.

A Heuer Autavia 2446C GMT

The Heuer Autavia reference 2446C offers two of the most useful complications around: a GMT function and a chronograph. All this comes in a sizable 40 mm Compressor case, with a "Pepsi" bezel to read the second time zone, much like a Rolex GMT-Master. This Autavia reference 2446C comes with a twist, and not a small one: it exhibits what Heuer aficionados describe as a Mk1 configuration, indicating that it was one of the first to come with a screw-back case, in 1969. Many little details indicate its early production, from the engraved case back (later models bear smooth case backs) to the T-Swiss and short dash at 40 in the running second sub-register. And it is not only about rarity; the case is well preserved and the patina on the lume is homogeneous. There's a lot to like here.   

The Heuer-focused dealer Rarebirds is offering this Mk1 Autavia here.

A Rolex Submariner Reference 5513, With Papers, And A Lovely Patina

This 5513 represents the very last of the plexiglass crystal production, before the Submariner no-date switched to a sapphire crystal with the reference 14060 in the early 1990s. What seems to be a geeky detail actually carries a lot of weight, as the slightly domed plexiglass gathers much more light than the flat sapphire, and makes the glossy black dial shine in ways that you would never get with the later models. Yet, the late 5513s do come with white-gold surrounds indexes, a clear transition from the painted indexes that existed since the launch of the 5513 reference in 1962. And here, the dark patina really seals the deal with this late 5513, which doesn't have the dial crazing that affected many examples of the late production for this reference – those examples are nicknamed "spider dials" by some collectors who find this defect attractive.

A French Rolex dealer is offering this great 5513 here, and it comes with its original papers.

A Nivada Grenchen ChronoKing Date

The Nivada Grenchen ChronoKing actually lives up to the expectations that its ambitious name suggests. The date at 12 o'clock is a nice touch, but it's the mirrored sub-registers that are really the kicker with this chronograph. The case size is great too; at 38 mm it is neither too small nor too bulky, and the red hands bring the touch of audacity that its design would otherwise lack. Opening the case reveals the caliber Valjoux 234, a reliable manual-wound, column-wheel-chronograph movement also used in the vintage Tudor "Monte Carlo," where the date was placed at 6 o'clock.

This unusual Nivada is offered for 3,000 CHF (or around $3,000) here.

A Nivada Grenchen Colorama That Lets You Change Your Look

The Colorama is such a cool idea, allowing for a woman to change the look of the watch by quickly swapping the bezel and the band – a concept that comes from the Swinging Sixties. Options are plentiful and colorful with the six bezels and five bands provided, and the dial itself displays a beautiful mirrored track. By today's standards, it is undoubtedly a small watch, and its case is gold plated, but there is something very satisfying to collectors about finding a set with the original box in such great condition.

The eBay listing for this chameleon watch can be found here; at the time of publishing, bidding was below $30.

The year 2000 was a long, long time ago. HODINKEE founder Ben Clymer had just become old enough to vote, and so many things we take for granted nowadays – seven-figure Daytonas, NATO straps, hating on date windows – had not yet become features of the horological landscape. And yet even in those far off years, the first generation of Internet watch celebrities, were making their mark. Some of them were website founders, some collectors, and a rare few were working to refine the infant genre of Internet watch writing.

Of these perhaps no one was more entertaining that Timezone.com's Watchbore. Watchbore was deliberately long-winded, and also erudite, cynical, and often sharply funny. His stock in trade was unmercifully sardonic criticism of the watch industry, but occasionally his acidic prose would meet up with a watch he actually admired. In my favorite instance of this, way back in 2000, he wrote a review of the Patek 10 Day Tourbillon (a watch I greatly admire and miss very much from Patek's lineup) that consists in large part of one of the most apropos and entertainingly related shaggy dog stories in the history of watch journalism. The story is "A Tale Of True Luxury" from the year 2000, and Part I is here, and Part II here. (Watchbore's column was written by Alan Downing, the gentleman who uncovered the secret of Hans Wilsdorf's favorite clock in Geneva.)

A Watch Gets Tweaked, By The Greatest Amateur Tweaker Of All Time

Sooner or later, if you like reading about watches on the Internet, you run across Walt Odets. Odets probably did more to define the online watch review than any other person. His entire body of work on Timezone should be required reading (and the way that Timezone allows it to be formatted today is a dreadful shame; his work deserves a better presentation than that). Odets was more than just a writer and enthusiast, though – he was possessed of the necessary skill and focus to become a master watchmaker as well (there are very few of us who write about watches regularly who, if we wanted a new platinum case back for one of our watches, would just, you know, go ahead and make one).

But of all his stories the one I return to again and again is the classic, "Tweaking The Mark XII" in which he goes through the process of fine-tuning the watch for accuracy – specifically, adjusting to positions. It's the kind of watch writing that has become almost impossible to do nowadays; most watch writers lack the means and the superb technical skill, and too many readers lack the interest in seriously horology necessary to get through the story. But if you really want to learn about what really goes into adjusting a watch to positions, there is still, to this day, no better place to go.  Part 1, Part 2.1, Part 2.2/1, Part 2.2/2, Part 2.3/1, Part 2.3/2 (reading this series has become extremely difficult as the links to each part are dead, so I've put them all together here).

A Major Dive Watch Myth, Busted (Repeatedly)

There is a persistent notion among watch enthusiasts that the depth rating of a watch is its static depth rating, but that motion of your watch through the water on your wrist can cause "dynamic pressure changes" that can exceed the depth rating of the watch, even in much shallower water than the actual rating. This idea has been repeated so many times that, to borrow a phrase, if you had a nickel every time someone said it you could make nickel soup, but as it all behooves us to remember, a lot of people repeating something doesn't make it true. There have been several posts on the subject on Watchuseek over the years, debunking the myth, two of my favorite are here, and with math, here.

As you may have heard, we recently launched something a little different in the HODINKEE Shop: the Marc Newson-designed Montblanc M pen with a HODINKEE-branded leather pouch. To commemorate the launch we hosted a get together at the Montblanc boutique this past Monday in New York City. There were champagne toasts, watches, and pens, and despite a major thunderstorm, we had a fantastic turnout. A big thank you to everyone who attended, and to Montblanc for hosting us.

For more information on the new Montblanc x HODINKEE pen set click here, and for more information on Montblanc click here. 

Photos: Michelle Khordos/Hazel Eye Photography

Over at the HODINKEE Shop, we're constantly adding new products, and today we're proud to announce that we're now carrying Cartier Time Art: Mechanics of Passion by our own Jack Forster. As a special add-on for our launch of the book, Jack has also signed every copy in the first batch.

Among the highest echelons of world-class watch collectors, indeed Rolex and Patek Philippe hold very special positions. However, the third peak in this mountain range of the most important watch brands is that of early Cartier. Cartier Time Art describes the progressive designs and significance of Cartier's creations in great detail and with beautiful images, but the book also offers much more. Notably, Jack focuses on the exquisite movements that powered those iconic timepieces, either provided by LeCoultre or later developed in-house. This book has become the reference guide to understanding all Cartier timepieces, both vintage and new.

Only this first batch of books have been signed, and once they're gone, they're gone. Read our full overview and purchase Cartier Time Art right here.

We rarely report on vintage automobile sales, but occasionally, when something crosses the block that touches our world, we feel it's our duty to let you know about it. We did it back in 2014 when RM sold Steve McQueen's Ferrari 275 GTB and we're doing it again here today because the car that Gooding & Co have coming in August is just that special. Yes, the Porsche 935 driven by Mr. Paul Newman to a class-win and second place overall finish at the 1979 running of LeMans is coming up for sale. But the connection to the watch world doesn't end with the fact that this may be a horological hero's most important vehicle.

In addition to being the car that Newman piloted to a second place finish at Lemans in 1979, it should be noted that the team that placed third that year featured a young employee of Patek Philippe named Laurent Ferrier – yes, that Laurent Ferrier. Oh, and the car – a Porsche 935, was in fact the very same model driven by Ferrier and his team, in addition to the first-place team. To say the 935 is an icon would be an understatement, and this actual car returned to LeMans in 1980 (sponsored by Apple!) and 1981.

This very car would also take top prizes at Sebring and Daytona and be campaigned successfully for the better part of a decade with over a dozen podium finishes. Indeed, it is this car that launched Newman's star as a true racer slash actor (and not the other way around), and it was his prowess on the track that made him such a hero to so many, igniting a passion for everything he touched (including watches).

This car comes fully documented and restored in Hawaiian Tropic livery – the team sponsor in 1979 – and ready for any show or track event. Gooding & Co. has placed a pre-sale estimate of $4.5 to $5.5 million on the car, which will cross the auction block at Pebble Beach in August. You can read more about it here.

This is an announcement I am incredibly humbled and proud to make. As of this morning, Mr. Stephen J. Pulvirent returns to HODINKEE. He returns with two years of experience in one of the world's leading business news organizations, Bloomberg, where he served as associate editor and a regular television guest. More recently, he served as executive digital editor of Surface magazine, one of the most important design titles in the United States. Why I am so excited to welcome Stephen back to HODINKEE? Stephen was this company's very first employee, and it was with his help that the passion project I began from a cubicle at UBS and built in the cafe of the Columbia School of Journalism became a business. More than that, HODINKEE became what it is today.

It was during Stephen's time that we launched our first collaborations with Drake's of London. It was during Stephen's time at HODINKEE that we shot our first episodes of Three on Three, Reference Points, and, yes, Talking Watches. It was during Stephen's time that HODINKEE was named one of Time Magazine's 50 Best Websites, and the New York Times called me the High Priest of Horology. So when Stephen left HODINKEE for Bloomberg in the summer of 2014, we were sad to see him go, but we respected his decision and always remained friendly.

While Stephen was honing his skills at Bloomberg and Surface, we continued to push forward too. We launched several new product lines, re-launched the HODINKEE Shop, hired a handful of top-tier journalists (Cara, Jack, and Arthur, for example), and, of course, last spring we merged with Kevin Rose's North Technologies, the developers of Watchville. Today, both HODINKEE and Stephen, two years the wiser, join forces once again.

Stephen will assume the role of Managing Editor, overseeing daily editorial flow. He will also be our Director of Operations, as someone who is intimately familiar with the core principles of who we are as a business. He will work to make the conversation between our technology team (yes, we have one, and it's amazing) and the editorial team ever more fluid. And on the topic of editorial, expect to see some of that old school 'Dink magic.

The inimitable Mr. Forster? He's not going anywhere, and will assume the role of Editor-in-Chief, focusing more on strategic initiatives for our editorial output. So, imagine the best of HODINKEE from today, plus the best of HODINKEE from yesterday, combined with a world-class technology team whose goal is to make accessing that content ever easier and more beautiful. Yup, that's the HODINKEE of tomorrow. And that, I think, is very exciting.

When I first started at HODINKEE in 2012, it was Ben and me sitting in a tiny WeWork office, where our first collection of Drake’s for HODINKEE ties barely fit between our lone bookcase and the sliding glass door. Since then, HODINKEE has grown to a team of almost 20; HODINKEE has launched a best-in-class mobile app; HODINKEE has transformed the shop into the best online destination for watches and watch accessories bar none. Sure, a lot has changed – but, importantly, a lot hasn’t changed a bit.

The original goals and values of HODINKEE have stayed exactly as I remember them. The animating idea of creating the best online and offline destination for people truly passionate about watches is still the motivating force behind every major decision. We want to produce the best editorial content about watches, we want to sell the best products for watch lovers, and we want to create a community where horological devotees can gather and communicate.

I left HODINKEE two years ago, almost to the day. Coming back, it feels like sitting right back down at that shared desk with Ben—but with a little more elbow room, and some really talented company.

Most notably, there's Jack. Over his last year leading the editorial team, Jack has brought a sense of ambition to HODINKEE's longform features, unrivaled historical knowledge of horology, and rigorous technical depth. He's also assembled and led the crack team of Cara, Arthur, and Louis, growing the number of perspectives contributing to the HODINKEE voice.

As we continue to push the boundaries of what HODINKEE can be as a publication and grow our media, e-commerce, and events offerings, we’re going to be pushing ourselves to work even harder to ensure that we’re always giving you the best. Our standards for ourselves are only getting higher.

This of course includes big picture things, like how we can make reviews more in-depth and helpful, and how we can cover the watch industry as a business a little more closely. But it also includes smaller, but equally meaningful things, like standardizing how we put accents on French words (it’s Genève, not Geneve) and how we format the price of a watch selling at auction. HODINKEE is a world-class publication produced by world-class journalists. Now we’re going to act like it.

Coming back to HODINKEE was as good an excuse as any for me to sit down with Jack, to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard), and to codify just exactly what makes HODINKEE so special and exciting. Transparency is very important to us. The goal of this post is to make it clear how we see HODINKEE, where it’s been and where it’s going, and to make sure that we’re being above-board with you, our readers, the entire way.

A Few Big Questions

A question that has come up time and time again is: Who are HODINKEE’s editors working for and what parties have interests at stake in HODINKEE’s editorial content?

Let me be abundantly clear. We work for you, our readers. No one else.

I do not work for our advertisers, I do not work for a marketing firm, and I do not work for a PR agency. You are my client. You don’t visit HODINKEE to see press releases, and that’s not what we’re here to offer. My job is to give you well-considered, thoroughly-investigated, and unbiased accounts of what we believe to be true about the subjects we cover. My editorial colleagues all feel exactly the same way.

Another question we get often is: Why is there so much relatively positive writing on HODINKEE, and so few truly negative reviews and stories?

A journalism professor I had in graduate school told us something the very first day of class that has stuck with me ever since: “If you’re going to write about something bad, it needs to be bad in an important way. Just being bad isn’t enough.” If we flat out do not like a watch, you won’t see it on HODINKEE. There’s no need to savage an obviously, and merely, mediocre product. It’s lazy journalism, it’s a waste of our limited editorial resources, and it doesn’t do anyone any good. Now, a major flop from an important brand? A problem with pricing? A dishonest press release or announcement? Those are things we write about.

Dos and Don'ts

It’s important for any company to clearly define what it does and what it doesn’t do. You don’t go to Popular Mechanics for a paella recipe, and you don’t drop by the Apple Store when you need a new sofa. Here's what we do, and do not do, at HODINKEE.

Things We Do At HODINKEE

Cover all things related to watches - HODINKEE was founded as a publication to cover mechanical wristwatches and related topics, and that’s still our number one priority. This means quality watches at all price points (seriously, from a $75 Seiko 5 to a $24 million pocketwatch), watch auctions, watch fairs, watch manufactures, watchmakers, the history of timekeeping, horological innovations and technology, and yes, quartz watches, and even the occasional smartwatch. From time to time, we throw in something about cars, fashion, technology, or another related topic we think you’ll like, but that’s for additional flavor. The main dish is, and always will be, mechanical watches.

Give you unbiased opinions and verified facts - When you read HODINKEE, you’re always getting the writer’s real thoughts, and facts that have been thoroughly checked. We think that our diversity of voices and perspectives is one of our most valuable assets, as is our team of journalists who understand that what we publish needs to be treated with respect, and should adhere to the highest standards of ethics and truth.

Offer real-life photography of watches - Whenever possible, the photos you see on HODINKEE are taken by our team of editors, writers, and photographers. We shoot honest photographs that show products as they actually are in the world, and the way you’d encounter them if you decided to spend your hard-earned money on them. We don’t edit out blemishes or doctor anything up. No smoke, no mirrors.

Produce original, high-quality video content - The second employee of HODINKEE was Will Holloway, who is a full-time videographer, and HODINKEE's Senior Digital Producer. We have believed since the beginning in the power of in-depth video content, and whether we're crossing Switzerland on the Road to Basel or sitting down with Jean-Claude Biver, NBA star Andre Iguodala, or mega-collector Jason Singer for Talking Watches, top notch video content is core to what HODINKEE is about.

Travel the world to find the best stories  - We travel to nearly every corner of the globe (usually on our own dollar) to uncover the coolest watches, to meet the watchmakers, collectors, and personalities that make horology such an incredible passion, and to tell you stories about things you never knew existed. Sure, the nature of covering watches means attending brand-sponsored trips and junkets that include complimentary travel, accommodations, and activities. We try to pay for as much of our own travel as we can, but we can’t get around these group trips without missing out on stories we believe are valuable to you.

Break news and bring you exclusives - Whether it’s at Baselworld, a Geneva auction, or a random Tuesday morning, we strive to bring you the most up-to-the-minute coverage. Sometimes this means working with brands on embargoed exclusives. We respect requests for confidentiality in order to bring you faster, more comprehensive stories, as well as to get exclusive access for stories you won’t find anywhere else, but we only do so while adhering to all the other standards you see here.

Mark sponsored content as such - If we have been paid in any way (money, product, travel, M&Ms, shoulder massages, etc.), to produce a piece of content it will be clearly indicated with a "Sponsored" tag.  This is in accordance with both FCC consumer protection law and basic journalistic ethics.

Create compelling products you can’t get anywhere else - The goal of our e-commerce platform has, from the very beginning, been about creating things we ourselves love and want, and then making them available to you. Whether it’s watch straps, headphones, vintage watches, or limited edition modern watches, the goal is always to give you something that will make you smile. More on this in a bit.

Things We Do Not Do At HODINKEE

Review products we have not seen in the metal - If you are reading more than a first look or introductory story, the person writing it has had a chance to spend an extended period of time (at least one week) with the product. Writing a review from a series of renderings and a spec sheet doesn’t do anyone any good and is dishonest, as is writing a “review” after spending six minutes with a watch at a tradeshow booth. Our way takes a little more time and sometimes means holding off on a review until we can get our hands on a real production watch, but so be it.

Accept compensation for coverage - Pay-for-play is a rampant problem in our industry, which comes as no surprise when there are multimillion dollar marketing budgets to be spent. It’s a no-go at HODINKEE. We never have and never will cover something editorially in exchange for compensation and no branded content (even clearly marked) will ever look anything like a review or endorsement. Likewise, we do not pay sources or brands for information, access, or interviews.

Keep watches sent to us for review - No writer or editor is permitted, under any circumstance, to keep a watch that he or she is reviewing. When the week or two review period is over, the watch gets packed up and sent back to where it came from. It would be easy to forgive a watch’s flaws in a review if doing so meant adding it to your collection, and that’s not fair to you, our readers. The same goes for any other product being written about. In the case of books and other small goods that brands and publicists usually do not want back, they’re added to the office library/resource collection and are not permitted for personal use.

Give interview questions in advance, allow quote approval, or allow final edit of any kind - When interviewing someone, whether a CEO, watchmaker, or collector, we do not provide questions in advance, allow the source or a related party to approve quotes used in a story, or allow outside parties to have final edit of any kind. Stories on HODINKEE are written and edited by HODINKEE writers and editors, and no one else. Sometimes this means passing on an interview, but that’s a much better outcome than us publishing in bad faith.

Make money through hidden affiliate links - We do not use affiliate links in stories such as Bring a Loupe or auction previews to secretly make money when readers purchase watches. If we’re making money on a story, you’ll know it and there will be no questions or grey area.

Invest in the companies we cover - No employee of HODINKEE or person publishing on HODINKEE is permitted to own any stock in or to be an investor in any company or entity we cover on the site. This might sound obvious, but it’s important. 

The Role Of Commerce At HODINKEE

You’ve doubtless noticed that the HODINKEE Shop has grown quite a bit since it was first launched in early 2012. What started as a few leather straps has evolved into straps, cases, tools, ties, pocket squares, sunglasses, photographs, pens, headphones, and, yes, watches.

The rule that we’ve had since it was Ben literally stuffing envelopes on his living room floor is a simple one: only make, or find, things we really love and would want to use or own ourselves, and sell them at fair prices. In many cases, products came about because Ben, me, or another member of the team wanted something that we couldn’t find anywhere else, so we found someone to make it for us and decided to share. Feedback has been almost universally great and many customers have been regularly shopping with us for nearly half a decade now.

Yes, the HODINKEE Shop is an important source of revenue for the company, and, yes, we understand that a media company selling products related to the topics it covers can raise issues for readers. Allow me to answer a few commonly voiced questions, and to try to put any concerns to rest.

In a company as relatively small as HODINKEE, there's necessarily going to be overlap between roles. However, we're acutely aware of the responsibility we have to our readers to make sure that commercial and editorial interests never, even accidentally, overlap in a way that would suggest there's any reason for you to question the trust you have in us.

The HODINKEE Shop is a big part of why we can bring you the very best coverage of watches on planet earth. It gives us the resources to fund trips, to hire good writers and photographers, and to do work independent of the usual watch industry ecosystem. Advertising is still important for us, and we don’t see that changing any time soon, but we’d honestly rather have HODINKEE funded by our readers and customers, than by the big multinational brands whose products we’re writing about. The more we can afford to do with no strings attached, or unspoken expectations, the better we can serve you. 

Having A Conversation

Open dialogue has always been an important part of what makes HODINKEE special. The goal of writing the 2,500 words you’re almost done reading here is transparency. We want you to understand where we’re at, how we work, and why we do the things we do. But maybe I didn’t answer everything.

If you want to ask me or another member of the team a question, you’ve got tons of options. You can comment on this post (adhering to the guidelines Jack established a few months ago, please), you can hit one of us up on Twitter (I’m @AlmostStephen), or you can post on the HODINKEE Facebook page. You could even drop us something on Snapchat or Instagram if that’s how you roll.

You can also shoot us an email at contact@hodinkee.com and we’ll try to get back to you, but we’d much prefer to have these conversations out in the open where everyone can benefit from the answers. There’s nothing transparent about a private email chain (and our inbox is always flooded).

Hopefully this has been helpful and you have a better sense of what we’re doing in our little watch-obsessed office in lower Manhattan. We come in every single day thinking about what we can do to make the HODINKEE experience better for you, from stories to the app to videos to the shop. 

All of this is to say something pretty simple: HODINKEE was created because Ben really loves watches. I joined him because I really love watches. Jack, Will, Cara, Arthur and the rest of the team all joined because—you guessed it—they really love watches. That's why HODINKEE started and that's why it will continue to grow.

Tissot first unveiled the Le Locle Automatic Regulateur back in March at Baselworld, but the three new watches are just now hitting stores. The Regulateur is a new addition to the Le Locle collection (aptly named for Tissot's home town) and the design is based on 18th and 19th century regulator clocks used by watchmakers to keep more accurate time.

The new Tissot Regulateur features two subsidiary dials, one for the hours (at 12 o'clock) and one for the running seconds (at 6 o'clock). The minutes are shown by the big hand on the main dial. The 39.3mm watch comes in three variations: stainless steel with silvered dial and a matching bracelet, two-tone PVD-coated stainless steel and yellow gold with a silvered dial and two-tone bracelet, and stainless steel with a black dial and leather strap. 

All three are powered by an ETA 2825.2 automatic movement, which was initially used in both the Le Locle Petit Seconds and the Couturier Automatic. These featured off-center subsidiary seconds, but the axes of the 2825.2 can vary, allowing for the indicators to be moved around the dial. For obvious reasons, this makes it a great choice for building a regulator. Additionally, the movement is exposed by the specially-shaped sapphire caseback that Tissot is known for. The power reserve is 38 hours, which isn't as long as one would hope for, but it's a fair compromise for keeping the watch under $1,000.

The Le Locle Regulateur retails for $795 for the steel case and leather strap, $850 for the stainless steel with bracelet, and $950 for the two-tone edition. For more information, visit Tissot's online boutique.

Christian Selmoni, Vacheron Constantin's Artistic Director, has watchmaking in his blood. He's the fourth generation of a family of watchmakers hailing from the Vallée de Joux, although when he first joined Vacheron Constantin in 1992, it was as Purchasing, Planning, and Manufacturing Director. He assumed a more direct creative role in 2001, as Product Director, and became Artistic Director in 2010. Along the way, Selmoni guided many of Vacheron's most critical creative initiatives, including the designing of watches based on the collection of masks in Geneva’s Barbier-Mueller Museum, and of course, the development of the supercomplication Reference 57260.

In this video, Selmoni discusses the development of the new Overseas line, and how he, and Vacheron Constantin, view it in terms of advancing Vacheron's aesthetic philosophy, as well as the manufacture's commitment to making sure the great skills of its craftsmen are clearly expressed in the watches it creates.

For more on the Vacheron Constantin Overseas Collection, click here.

Read Jack Forster's take on the Overseas Ultra-Thin, and the idea of a "perfect" watch.

Also check out our launch coverage of the new Overseas Self-Winding, our Hands On coverage of the same, and our Hands-On coverage of the Overseas World Time.

Good morning watch lovers! Each week we try to bring you something slightly different from the week before. And this week we are focusing mainly on dress watches with a few special chronographs in the mix as well. We have a great selection of eight watches from Omega, Rolex, and Universal Genève. Read on to see what we have in store.

A 1960s Universal Genève Aero-Compax Reference 890100/01

The Aero-Compax is one of Universal Genève's lesser-known watches. Developed in the 1940s, it was the ultimate tool watch, with a chronograph function and a 24-hour dial and bezel. This will be the avid traveler's best friend. The example we have here is from the 1960s and features the Venus 178 movement. It is in impeccable condition. For more on this watch, click here. 

A 1950s Omega Broad Arrow Military Reference 2777-1

The Omega Broad Arrow is a product of a long-standing partnership between Omega and the U.K. military. Throughout both World Wars and into the 1950s, Omega provided over 110,000 watches to the British Forces including the model you see here. This watch is listed for $3,900. Read all about it here. 

A 1950s Eberhard & Co. Chronograph, Pre-Extra Fort

This stainless steel Eberhard chronograph was produced before the better-known Extra Fort chronograph. The example we have here features a two-register dial and a chronograph locking system, where the bottom button slides up to lock the mechanism itself. For further details click here. 

Wait! There's More

In addition to the above, we also have: a 1940s Omega with two-tone dial, a 1950s Tudor in yellow gold with box and papers, a 1960s Universal Genève Uni-Compax in yellow gold, a 1986 Rolex Datejust reference 1603, and a 1950s Omega in steel. 

For the complete listing of watches click here. 

I've often thought about what my watch collection will be like in twenty years. I'll be in my fifties then, married with children (I hope). My watch life could go one of two ways: I could fall deeper into the intense collecting and research that has defined the last half-decade of my life (as a single man with little overhead). Or, I could choose to pare things down and focus on just the watches that are important as other things take precedence (houses and kids are expensive). The latter is where today's story comes in. Picking up on Jack's earlier two installments of "The Two Watch Collection," I'll talk about what could some day be my own personal two watch collection, why I believe these two watches are special on their own, and why I believe they are superlative together. I say this because I own them both, and I really can't imagine my collection without them. I'm talking about Patek Philippe's preeminent perpetual calendar, the reference 3940, and A. Lange & Söhne's 1815 Chronograph.

The A. Lange & Söhne 1815 Chronograph

First, the Lange. Let's get one thing out of the way here – the Datograph is the important Lange chronograph. But that doesn't mean it's the better Lange chronograph. Some years ago, when I was first exposed to all that is A. Lange & Söhne, the Datograph was the natural first obsession. It's platinum, with a black dial, and it's the chronograph that most enthusiasts declare the GOAT. I trusted these enthusiasts, and decided I would have one. But mid-lust, something strange happened: I tried one on. And, in all its glory, the original Datograph just did not sit right on my wrist. I found it out of balance and too thick for my personal taste – Lange has since corrected this by making the Datograph Up/Down larger in diameter, balancing out the thickness of the case. So, it was suggested by a friend at Lange that I have a look at the 1815 Chronograph. 

Few people outside hardcore watch lovers know the 1815 Chronograph. It has a painted dial that is far more traditional than that of the Dato. It is not available in platinum. You can't say this model changed the entire chronograph game, as you can of the Datograph. But what you do have with the 1815 Chronograph is the exact same view from behind (maybe the best in the world?) provided by the very same base chronograph caliber as the one found in the Datograph.

With the 1815, you don't have that outsized date for which Lange is widely known, but that's OK. I find the watch even more balanced without it. Oh, and did I mention that without the outsized date, the Chronograph is considerably thinner than the Dato? It is – a full 2mm in fact – and thus, my decision was made. The 1815 Chronograph is a chronograph and nothing more. It's not a record setter or a game changer, it features no additional complications, and it has no greater meaning in the bigger horological picture. What it is, is the purest expression of a traditional chronograph movement, and one that many, including myself, believe to be simply superlative.

And, of course, it's from A. Lange & Söhne. And if you're not sure why that matters, ask any major collector who has been around for the last twenty years. I really believe Lange is the greatest large-scale watch manufacturer today. And, as someone who very much grew up in the same decades, I feel a connection to the company. Sure, I love vintage watches as you no doubt well know, but I do also appreciate those things that were built and cultivated in my lifetime. On some level, I bought this watch because I wanted to support A. Lange & Söhne for simply being excellent, honest, and respectful to its customers when other brands are not. On the other hand, I simply wanted the baddest effing chronograph I could afford. Luckily for me, Lange's chronograph collection does not stop at the Datograph – without the 1815, I'm not sure I'd own any Langes at all.

The Patek Philippe 3940 Perpetual Calendar

For the second piece in this two watch collection, I've chosen another modern classic. Unlike the 1815, the reference 3940 perpetual calendar from Patek Philippe is not currently in production. It was launched in 1986 exclusively in yellow gold and was later made in rose gold, white gold, and platinum. The 3940 was eventually replaced by the 5140 and (earlier this year at Baselworld) the 5327. Still, the 3940 is something of a special watch to Patek lovers for a few different reasons. The first is that with its automatic, micro rotor–powered calibre 240-Q and 36mm case, it is a truly refined offering. The second is that, as lore would have it, the 3940 is the watch of choice of Philippe Stern, father to current Patek CEO Thierry Stern.

The caliber, which dates all the way back to the 1970s, is simple by today's perpetual calendar standards, but is still one of the all-time classics. It's svelte, sitting perfectly inside the 36mm case of the 3940. (One complaint often lodged against the 5140 is that the larger case did not receive an up-sized movement. If this were A. Lange & Söhne, it would've.) The perpetual calendar mechanism is one of horology's true grand complications, and though it may seem common now, there were not many available in the late 80s when Patek added a perpetual mechanism to the 240 base caliber.

The 3940 became the reference for all modern perpetual calendars and in some ways, for all Patek Philippe watches until the introduction of the 5970. To this day, I'm not sure there is a better balanced, more subtle, or more elegant perpetual calendar on the market. Further, the 3940 represents what Patek was during my lifetime. No matter what they do today or in the future, nothing can change how important this company is to watchmaking.

The Ultimate Two Watch Collection Of Today

The 1815 and the 3940 are wonderful watches on their own – I don't know anyone that would deny that. But to me, they are much more when put side-by-side, as potentially the perfect representation of modern horology. One represents the preeminent traditional Swiss watchmaker and its mid-century design ethos of elegance, wearability, and supreme functionality. The caliber was systemically improved upon over time, the very same way Swiss movements had been developed for decades before. The movement is precise and beautifully hand-finished, but in a classically conservative manner.

The other watch is completely modern. The movement was originally designed as an integrated whole, and then pared down by the removal of the big date function. It's deliberately three-dimensional, unnecessarily and opulently so, to allow the Saxon master craftsmen to show off all that they are capable of. The 240-Q of the Patek is high and tight, the L951.5 is long and flowing. One might assume the rich, emotional chronograph caliber would've come from the Swiss, and the understated but excellent perpetual calendar caliber from the Germans. One would be wrong.

Each of these two watches is so remarkable in its own right that it seems almost silly to group them with one another. But, on another level, they were made to sit next to one another. They represent the purest designs from what are clearly the two most important high-end watch manufacturers of my lifetime. One is thick, one is thin. One is manually wound, one is automatic. One displays time by the second, the other by the leap year.

What's more, both watches represent fantastic value per dollar. These are both very high-end, completely hand-assembled, hand-finished watches, and they could be even more expensive than they already are without anyone blinking an eye. They are by no means inexpensive, but in the relative world in which high-end collectors examine mega-watches, I think you'd be hard-pressed to find more high-end watchmaking dollar-for-dollar from two blue-chip brands than what you'll see in the 1815 Chronograph and the 3940.

The 1815 chronograph retails for $50,300 in either rose and white gold. The Datograph Up/Down in platinum is $90,700. That's a $40,400 difference for platinum over gold and the outsized date. To make things ever clearer, the Datograph Up/Down in rose gold is $72,000 – so you can buy the watch see here for $22,000 less, and you still have the same chronograph mechanism even if you lose the date. Compared to Patek's 5170G? The 1815 is a whopping $30,000 less, and that's a straight gold to gold comparison.

As for the 3940? Well, while 5004s and 5970s have jumped in values, the 3970s and 3940s just haven't. They are more common even if they're earlier. You can find a decent 3940J in the high 30s, a decent 3940G or R in the 40s to low 50s, and a 3940P in the 50s to low 60s. For comparison, for a modern day Patek perpetual with the very same movement, you'll be paying in the 90s for gold and above $100,000 for platinum.

The 3940 and 1815 are not perfect watches, but they're damn close. In fact, I think each might be the very best at what it does, and neither is even close to the most expensive in the marketplace. The 3940 and 1815 are great on their own, spectacular together, and if you care about experiencing the best watchmaking you can from two of the finest watchmakers on the planet, I can not recommend these two enough. Will either one of them be a highly sought-after collectible with an ever-appreciating value down the road? I'd doubt it, but sometimes just being a great watch is all it takes to deserve a spot in your collection – or even to be your entire collection. 

Patek Philippe reference 3941 courtesy of Madison Fine Time / A. Lange & Söhne 1815 Chronograph courtesy of A. Lange & Söhne NYC

Lately, my colleagues in New York have been complaining about the unrelenting heatwave that has swept across the East Coast. Although temperatures are much cooler in London, I too have been feeling the summer heat, and it’s got me thinking about summer watches. This brings me to the new Panerai Radiomir 1940 3 Days Automatic Acciaio 42mm (PAM 655), maybe this year's coolest new summer wrist wear.

Introduced earlier this year, the PAM 655 is the very first Radiomir 1940 to feature a white dial. There have been other white-dialed Panerai watches, but never one with this silhouette. This is the biggest change to the Radiomir 1940 since the switch from manually-wound to automatic movements back in 2014. At the same time, the standard size for the family increased to 45mm, though this was not a direct result of the movement swap (the new movements are actually very thin – more on that later). There is now a healthy mix of sizes, ranging from the 42mm we have here up to 48mm for some of the more specialized pieces. And, no, the white dial isn't replacing the classic black dial – it's just another option. 

Other than this color differences, the layout of the Radiomir 1940 remains otherwise unchanged. Large Arabic numerals punctuate the dial except for the space at 9 o’clock, which is reserved for a small seconds display. In this version, the hands have been filled with lume the distinct color of faux-patina, as have the small dots marking the hours. It's worth noting that the white dial is not a sandwich dial – the numerals are black and are printed right on the white base. Altogether, the watch looks a little lighter and jauntier than its black-dialed brethren. It's also more legible and easier to read at a quick glance due to the higher contrast.

On the wrist, the 42mm stainless steel case is predictably comfortable. I’ve never given much thought to the size of Radiomir 1940 watches – even the larger models – because I have quite large wrists. Panerai has also been honing their cushion-shaped case since the 1930s (initially with the help of Rolex, of course) which probably doesn't hurt. That said, I've been desperately waiting for Panerai to make the Radiomir 1940 slimmer, and luckily the new models come in at just under 11mm tick. The case shape itself has not changed much, the lugs are still straight, and all angles have been fully polished, but the overall proportions feel a lot more natural than before.

Powering the watch is Panerai's P.4000 caliber. This manufacture movement was the first automatic caliber fitted inside a Radiomir 1940. It was also the company’s first movement with a decentralized oscillating weight, allowing it to clock in at just 3.95mm thick. It still provides great shock resistance thanks to a balance bridge securing the balance at two points and it delivers 72 hours of power reserve (three full days). The finishing is minimal, which isn't entirely shocking on a sport watch like this. The mainplate is lightly brushed, while the tungsten rotor is engraved. Oh yeah, and it’s water resistant to 100 meters (obviously).

The Panerai Radiomir 1940 3 Days Automatic Acciaio 42mm is priced at $10,000 and comes with a distressed leather strap which echoes the lume on the dial.

Panerai Radiomir 1940 3 Days Automatic Acciaio 42mm; Case: Radiomir 1940, 42 x 11mm, cushion-shaped, stainless steel, fully polished; Functions: Hours, minutes, small seconds off-center. Movement: manufacture made, caliber P.4000, fully automatic, 3.95mm thin, beating at 4Hz, 70-hour power reserve. Strap: natural leather.

For more information, visit the Panerai website here.

For mechanical watch enthusiasts, the biggest recent news from Tiffany & Co. was the launch of the CT60 collection. Overshadowed somewhat was the launch of a totally new watch design as well. The East West has a long rectangular case and is based on a travel clock made by Tiffany in the 1940s. I thought the design had a lot of zip and a lot of retro-charm, without seeming excessively anachronistic, but I couldn't help wishing – vocally and frequently – that there was a mechanical version available.  My prayers (and shouts) have been answered.

Enter the East West Automatic. We gathered all three versions of the new self-winding East West, and they look great – if you liked them in quartz, design-wise, you're going to like the automatic versions.  This is a quirky take on a wristwatch, of course, and it is a little weird to see what's basically a sideways dial on your wrist. But, as with most unusual dials, you adapt pretty fast. I'm beginning to wonder if I haven't developed, in a subtle way, extremely perverse taste in watches, because this seems like the sort of thing a sensible person would dismiss out of hand as silly, or pointless, or wrongheaded in some profound way. I, on the other hand, actually like that little knot you get in your brain when you look at the East West's dial.

What this particular dial arrangement allows you do is put the watch on its side and use it as a desk clock, which, given the size (the case is 46.5mm x 27.5mm), is something for which it's eminently suited. This isn't, however, a watch that I particularly recommend trying to reason with. Either you're going to find it whimsically charming, or you're going to find it irritating and pointless. Fighting your impulse is likely futile. 

Wisely, Tiffany is not making a big deal about the movement, which is a Swiss self-winding caliber that is well decorated enough to, through the half-moon aperture in the caseback, give you something to look at that reassures you you've got a mechanical watch on your wrist. That's about it. It seems a small thing, but the half-moon aperture goes a long way towards making the whole thing credible and in a funny way it ties the whole design together. It's one of those important details that proves a design was actually thought through to the end. Ninety-nine percent of most other companies would have put a round aperture in the caseback without giving it a second thought, but the little allusion you get to a heavenly body – the Moon, the Sun, what have you – hits the East West aspect of the name gently but squarely on the head.

This is a highly idiosyncratic design that shouldn't work – but does. If you're a white pocket square, navy suit kind of guy this probably isn't your brand of vodka, but if you enjoy that disruptive brand of nonchalance and personal style that's carried off effortlessly, this is a watch you'll probably find very appealing.

The Tiffany East West Automatics: in 18k rose gold with white dial and brown strap; stainless steel with white dial and black strap, and stainless steel with blue dial and blue strap. Sapphire crystals front and back on all models; water resistance 3 atmospheres. Movement, self-winding, Swiss-made. In steel, $4,750; in rose gold, $12,000. For more, visit Tiffany.com.

There's little better than watching a master at work. In this video, Ochs und Junior founder Ludwig Oechslin walks us through the assembly of his latest watch, a perpetual calendar. This isn't just any old perpetual though. Oechslin's invention is the simplest perpetual calendar ever made, using just nine components for the calendar mechanism itself. The video comes in just under 25 minutes long, and if you don't speak German you're going to have to read subtitles – but I promise it's worth every second.

The Perpetual Calendar is everything you'd expect from Ochs und Junior. The small watchmaker has always been known for its rigorous simplicity (which we dove into on the Road to Basel) and this watch is that philosophy's logical conclusion. Most perpetual calendars use dozens, sometimes even hundreds, of gears, levers, and springs to track the date, day, month, and leap year cycles. Oechslin pared this all back to just nine components. He also completely eliminated springs and levers (both essential in traditional perpetual calendars) so the mechanism can be set in both directions solely through the crown, and will be less susceptible to wear or accidental damage. For a full in-depth look at the watch, check out the story we wrote when Ochs und Junior first unveiled the perpetual calendar back in June.

The Ochs und Junior Perpetual Calendar is priced at 20,240 CHF excluding VAT (approximately $20,786 at time of publishing) and is highly customizable like all other Ochs und Junior watches. Visit Ochs und Junior online for more information.

This week is dedicated to tool watches – those engineered to fulfill particular purposes under specific, often difficult circumstances. The Patek Amagnetic Reference 3417 demonstrates that such watches do not need to be bulky and rough-looking to deliver results. Also expect to find an aviation chronograph from Jardur, a dive watch from Zenith, and a controversial military Lemania. This is your Bring A Loupe for August 5, 2016.

Jardur Bezelmeter 960, With Flying Log

Usually, watches with gold-plated cases are not recommended here in Bring A Loupe, but this Jardur was too special to be overlooked. The Jardur Bezelmeter 960 was manufactured almost exclusively for pilots, with the rotating bezel indicating the remaining duration of a flight (the bezel is designed to be used as a countdown timer). This example comes with the log of its original owner, a female flight instructor who described the flights of her pupils in 1946, in planes such as the Piper J-3 and the Stearman. The watch also come with a personalized engraving on the caseback, which increases the charm of this Valjoux-72 powered chronograph. 

WatchesToBuy is offering this lovely Jardur for $3,950 here.

Patek Philippe "Amagnetic" Calatrava Reference 3417

The reference 3417 is a very special watch in Patek Philippe's history. It might look like a dress watch but the elegant "Amagnetic" script on the dial also reveals its uncommon anti-magnetic properties. Furthermore, the 3417 was only available with a 35 mm stainless steel case, a metal rarely used by Patek at the time. It was produced from 1958 to 1970, and it is estimated than no more than 600 watches were made (not all of which had the delicate Amagnetic signature on the dial). The example here used the hand-wound caliber 27-AM 400, indicating it was produced after 1960. The small seconds register also indicates a second execution dial, which narrows the date range down even further to 1963 to 1970, according to the The Complete Guide To The Patek Philippe Reference 3417 Amagnetic that we covered here.

You can find this rare and beautiful Patek Amagnetic listed on The Keystone for $60,000 here. Note that the watch comes with the original box and an extract from the archives.

Zenith S.58, An Uncommon Diver

The Zenith S.58 is a personal favorite of mine. It's a gorgeous vintage diver that is generally overlooked nonetheless. As its name implies, it was originally launched in 1958, first with a hand-wound movement, and in 1960 and automatic caliber was added. Here we have the latter version. The S.58 was obviously built tough with practicality in mind, with a 37mm waterproof case, a rotating bakelite bezel, and lumed numerals on the dial. The deeply engraved case back is another attraction of this Zenith, clearly showing its reference number. In short, it is a very attractive package for a fraction of the price of a contemporary Rolex Submariner, which, at the time, did not even offer a date.

Matthew Bain is offering this beautifully patinated Zenith S.58 for $5,900 here.

Tudor Chronograph Reference 94300, With Exotic Dial And Original Sticker

The dimensions of this watch make it obvious why it received the nickname "Big Block." At a solid 40mm, it is considerably bigger than the 1970s Rolex Daytonas, whose case diameters barely reached 37 mm. Here, the case seems in good unpolished condition, with thick lugs and crisp bevels. This family of Tudor is powered by the workhorse Valjoux 7750 and can also be considered the first automatic chronographs from Rolex, as the Daytona was only fitted with a modified Zenith El Primero in 1988. The black dial with contrasting orange numerals offers a very interesting layout, with the date at 3 o'clock and the minute counter at 12 o'clock. Note that the case back still bears the original sticker with the reference number. 

Iconic Watch Company listed this funky Tudor chronograph for $12,000 here; I wish I had previously bid on it on Ebay here.

Breitling Top Time Reference 810

This three-register Top Time obviously offers a very attractive reverse panda dial. It also comes with an interesting 38 mm case, which is a nice increase from the standard 35-36mm size commonly found on similar chronographs from competing brands. Here, the handset follows the black and white color scheme of the dial, something characteristic of later Top Time production (and consistent with the thicker second execution case). The hands seem a bit short, but this quirk has been observed on several other Top Time reference 810 and in a Breitling catalog from 1969 that you can find here. It is hard to tell from the picture whether the crown is signed with an engraved "B," but it should be if it's an original part. 

You can find this Breitling offered for sale here.

Bidder Beware – A Lemania "Viggen", With Inconsistent Parts (Updated)

UPDATE: We were contacted by the seller and it appears as if the errors in the listing were unintentional. He has published an updated listing with the correct information which you can find here.

The Lemania "Viggen" is a gorgeous chronograph made for the Swedish military; we covered a very nice one here. Prices have been steadily climbing, but I would not consider the one listed for $7,000 on Ebay here. The case, dial, handset and crowns are correct for a Lemania reference 817, but I would not say the same about two essential parts, the bezel and the case back. 

The case back is not fake, but it should have had the characteristic "Tre Konor" (the three crowns being the emblem of the Swedish Army). Knowing that the Viggen was not sold as a civilian version, a smooth case back sounds problematic. And the bezel is obviously wrong – with its Zenith Cairelli look, it most probably belongs to the Lemania with the same reference, but delivered to the South African Air Force. At the end, I would recommend staying clear of this semi-Viggen.

Sitting on my desk this week was an all black Tudor dive watch. And, no, it's not called the Black Bay Black. That name was already taken by last year's edition featuring a black dial and bezel. This is the Black Bay Dark, a distinct model first revealed at Baselworld earlier this year. It's a suped-up, blacked-out take on the company's popular vintage-inspired diver, and it provides a totally different experience than its older siblings.

The Black Bay Dark is part of Tudor’s new 2016 Black Bay line-up. It stands somewhere between the 43mm Black Bay Bronze and the 36mm Heritage Black Bay at 41mm, though its design is distinct. The Black Bay Dark is Tudor taking a calculated step into the unknown, with a fully PVD-treated exterior with only two tiny splashes of color on the depth rating and around the lumed pip on the rotating bezel. Otherwise the watch is strictly black and white, from hands to bezel to bracelet.

Those little red highlights remind us of the primary purpose of the watch, which is to be legible during a dive. Tudor has been making reliable diving watches for more than half-a-century, including famous models such as the Oyster Prince Submariner "Big Crown" (which served as the inspiration for the Black Bay) and the "Snowflake" Submariners used by the French Navy. The large crown remains for functional purposes, and plays host to the company's old logo, the Tudor rose, which has been replaced on the dial by a shield.

The interest doesn't end at the surface though. Tudor chose to make the Black Bay Dark the very first Black Bay to debut with an in-house movement. The caliber MT5602 is designed and made by Tudor (the MT stands for Manufacture Tudor) and is an automatic movement packing 70 hours of power reserve. It's also chronometer certified by COSC, something that Tudor certainly didn't have to do here. No one would have questioned this watch for not being COSC-certified, but doing so shows a commitment to doing things the right way even when working outside the box.

This care extends to the Black Bay Dark's bracelet options. As with most of Tudor's offerings, there are multiple choices and a woven fabric strap is included with either of the two options. The steel bracelet has the same PVD coating of the watch, including on the end links, so it's a seamless connection, while the leather strap option is an aged black leather with a black clasp. The default fabric strap is a two-tone black and grey weave that looks darker or lighter depending on the light. And, of course, it has matching black PVD hardware. It's what I wore on the Black Bay Dark on most of the time that I had it. No matter which you choose, all three preserve the visual harmony that makes the watch special.

Tudor's calculated risk comes on the heels of collectors showing an interest for aftermarket blacked-out Rolex watches, which more and more companies are doing nowadays. To be honest, I’ve never been a great fan of all-black watches. They are undoubtedly cool, but I’ve always found them more exciting as a spectator than as an owner. Whenever I’ve worn one, I’ve found that the lack of color drowns out the details of the dial, often turning the watch into something of a dull affair, and something I take off quickly. The experience of the Black Bay Dark could not be more different. I found myself reaching for it most days during the week I had it, often picking it ahead of my own daily-wearers, and it sat on my wrist quite comfortably in their place.

The Black Bay Dark is available for $4,150 on a strap and for $4,475 on bracelet. Visit Tudor for more.

The last time I drove a Jaguar was back in 1986. I was working for a couple of gentlemen with deliberately vague business interests in Manhattan's then extremely colorful Lower East Side, and my job requirements seemed to change from one day to the next. One fairly regular task, though, was taking an XK150 out for a spin once a week or so. (My employer never explained why he thought the car should be aired out once a week. The fact that my driver's license had expired several years earlier was never called into question, and I declined to bring up the subject because it was a ton of fun to drive the car.) In the last few years, I've driven a Mercedes S class on a track at Brooklands and an F1 simulator at the Mercedes AMG Petronas compound, but, to put it mildly, I don't have daily driving experience. That made driving the latest Jaguar F-Type under the watchful eye of a racing instructor at the Monticello Motor Club, as a guest at an event organized by Vacheron Constantin, even more interesting.

At Monticello, there's a landing area for helicopters (which is how Vacheron Constantin got us out there) and from the air you can see the track and clubhouse. They appear to be situated more or less in the middle of nowhere, though the Club is actually on the site of the former Monticello Airport (in the great motorsports tradition of putting tracks at former airports). It's a members-only club where driving enthusiasts can get track time not only with their own vehicles (we shared the track that day with several Porsches) but also with cars loaned by manufacturers. That day there were six Jaguar F-Types available to Vacheron's guests. 

The F-Type is Jaguar's latest shot at a 911 killer, and while I haven't read anywhere that it quite manages to decisively tip the scales in its favor against the Porsche, it is an extremely capable car in its own right, having been called "a legitimate 911 competitor" by Car and Driver. The F-Type comes in several configurations, including a V6 and V8, with manual and automatic options depending on the model. As luck would have it, the guy with the least driving experience (me) got the V8, along with the services of a laconic but friendly instructor, who kindly told me, once he'd heard how long it had been since I'd driven anything anywhere, much less on a track, that the first thing I should do is "just get used to driving a car again." Good advice.

The track is designed to be not just fast, but also technically challenging. Overall, the course is 3.6 miles and there's a satisfyingly long back straight that goes into a tight chicane, and a number of turns with entry and exit geometries intended to challenge drivers trying to find the optimum line on any given day, under any given conditions, in any given car. 

The basic idea in driving on a track is to follow what is called the racing line, which is a path designed to give you the shortest possible time around the course. If you are used to driving on roads, it's an extremely difficult thing to do, for a number of reasons.  If the track were perfectly straight, with no turns, it would be a simple matter of standing on the gas pedal, but tracks aren't straight, and turns are of course where you lose the most speed. It would seem intuitively obvious that the thing to do in a turn is hug the inside (as that is the shortest distance through the turn) but in doing so, you lose so much speed that it actually makes more sense to follow a different procedure.  This is to start on the outside of the turn, brake as you begin entering, hold a steady speed through what's called the apex of the turn (the inside of the corner where the car is closest to the edge of the road) and then build speed as you exit.  The devil, of course, is in the details, and when and how much you brake and accelerate, how you manage weight transfer between the front and the back of the car, when you begin to aim for the apex, and exactly where the apex is, all vary with the car, track, and driving conditions. (This can get even more complicated, with concepts like "trail braking" and generating a line in the shape of a Euler spiral, but that's the basic concept). Driving an ideal racing line is essentially an extremely complicated physics problem where choices made early constrain choices you can make later, and experience, instinct, and a great deal of technical knowledge are all necessary to have a shot at getting things close to correct.  

For our purposes on track day with Vacheron, entry points and apexes for the Jaguars we were driving had been conveniently marked with cones. Still, it was quite difficult. Following a line through a turn often means doing several things that someone trained for city and highway driving instinctively and deliberately avoids, including accelerating and braking far more aggressively than would be advisable on a road, and also, frequently using the entire width of the track.  Though I learned to drive in the 1970s (in my father's little diesel, manual Peugot, which though very sharp on the road and tons of fun to drive, was definitely a weird car to have in Central Pennsylvania during the presidency of Gerald R. Ford) I still had the muscle memory from early days, and so, crossing the width of the track to follow a line through the apex of a turn felt very unnatural and uncomfortable at first, as did braking and throttling as aggressively as necessary.

The F-Type, fortunately, is an extremely precise-handling and feeling car, despite being on the heavier side (at a hair over 3,800 lbs, compared to about 3,100 to 3,600 lbs for a current model 911). The supercharged V8 engine delivers 550 bhp at 6,000 rpm and the car has all-wheel drive (which, I've read, was a somewhat controversial alteration to the original rear wheel drive configuration of the F-Type, as AWD adds weight). The car  is all aluminum and though the first F-Types were convertibles, "my" F-Type R Coupé had a hardtop, the addition of which apparently means an 80% increase in rigidity over the ragtop. Incidentally, if you want even more horsepower, the 2017 F-Type SVR is lighter, has improved aerodynamics, puts out 575 bhp and tops out at an electronically limited 200mph. 

As I warmed up to the car and began driving slightly more aggressively (or maybe I should say, slightly less timidly) the feel of the car became clearer: very sharp in the corners, great feedback through the wheel. and, of course, a great deal of power in reserve. Though nominally AWD, the car actually feeds power to just the rear wheels by default, sending some to the front only when the electronics stability software thinks you need it. The F-Type R Coupé also comes with something called TVB, for Torque Vectoring by Braking – if you enter a corner carrying too much speed (which I did consistently) and the system detects oversteer, it'll apply braking force to the inside tires to keep you in line; you have just a millisecond of "uh oh" before TVB steps in, and all is well.  What all this adds up to is a car that pretty much goes exactly where you aim it, and the feedback through the wheel is so clear you always feel you know exactly where you are – though obviously a novice on the track like myself is going to reach their own limitations as a driver long before reaching the limits of the car's performance envelope for speed and traction.  Even so, driving the F-Type R Coupé did make me wish that I had track experience with a 911, just to have something to compare it to. 

Now, a reasonable question is, what is the relationship between Vacheron Constantin and a motorsports club? Or between motorsports and watchmaking in general?  I've often found attempts to draw direct parallels between watchmaking and cars – especially high performance sports cars – strained at best. A car is a big machine weighing thousands of pounds and generating a tremendous amount of energy. You're actively involved with it as a driver at all times. A watch is a tiny machine generating a negligible amount of energy and your relationship to it is fairly passive – even with a chronograph, you push the start button and it does its thing, with no intervention from you, until you tell it to stop. The least plausible tie-ins between cars and watches are often those watches which, in an attempt to relate themselves to cars, borrow automotive design cues. They're cutesy at best, forced and implausible at worst. 

And, yet, the two worlds seem to persist in intersecting. (For a myriad of examples, see our review of Drive Time, by Aaron Sigmond). I don't actually think it's necessary to find a reason, per se, to enjoy watches and cars together, though. Certainly, from a commercial standpoint, it makes sense for companies like Vacheron to speak to the interests of their customers, and to create experiences for them. Rather than attempt to make essentially tenuous tie-ins plausible (car logos on watch dials, exotic materials that serve no real purpose, etc.), I think it makes a lot more sense to let excellent mechanical objects co-exist in such a way that each is allowed to be true to its own nature; the whole thing seems much more organic and less disingenuous.  

One place I think there is a plausible connection, though, is in the idea of precision. In watchmaking the idea is more intuitive: as a machine, it's the function of a watch to offer as little as possible variation in rate. Accuracy, therefore, is an outcome of something more fundamental. Right before leaving for the day, my instructor said something very interesting, which was that trying to be fast too soon was counterproductive, and that being fast was the result of something more fundamental as well: driving with precision. Speed, like accuracy, is in a way a by-product and if you understand how both come out of something even more essential, you understand something about the nature and behavior of the physical world you didn't understand before.

Thanks to Vacheron Constantin and the Monticello Motor Club for providing transport and accommodations during the event, and to Robby Foley, my instructor for the day, who made sure I learned something (and didn't end in a fireball). Cars provided by  Jaguar.

MeisterSinger's signature design is a watch with a lone hand marking the hours. This relatively young company (founded in 2001), based in Münster, Germany, has produced many iterations on the basic idea over the years, with watches like the Singulator, the Salthora and the Circularis, amongst others. The latter is available with a 120 hour hand-wound movement, with design input from Meistersinger on several key components, and now MeisterSinger has added a 120 hour automatic movement likewise produced to its specifications, with small date, to further expand the Circularis collection.

The Circularis Automatic doesn't look all that different from its predecessors, but it's the new movement that sets it apart. Inside sits the caliber MSA01, which is an automatic movement capable of supplying more than 120 hours (or five days) of power reserve thanks to a large oscillating weight and a twin-barrel construction. The movement is designed in collaboration with Synergies Horlogeres (who also supply it to Christopher Ward, though for CW the movement has a different rotor design and upper bridge). That means that it's not a manufacture movement, but I don't think that's anything to get upset about here.

The movement itself is nicely decorated with circular graining and beveled edges, which one would expect from a watch at this price point, especially when the company is so keen to show it off through a wide open sapphire caseback. It's based on the caliber MSH01 found in the manually-wound Circularis, with the same 120-hour power reserve and general architecture.  

The Circularis Automatic comes in a 43mm stainless steel case (again, similar to previous models), but it looks even larger than that because of the slim bezel. The clean, minimal dial design amplifies the effect, and the date is subtly tucked down at the bottom of the dial while still being big enough to read easily. I was very pleasantly surprised with how well it sat on the wrist, despite the size. The Milanese mesh bracelet does feel unnecessarily clunky and heavy though, letting the watch down a bit. That said, it's an optional accessory (at an additional cost), so you can just skip it and stay with the leather strap if that's your preference.

The experience of living with a one-handed watch for a few short days was one that I enjoyed, even if it took some getting used to. Because the dial is divided into five-minute segments between the round hour markers, setting the time was a little tricky at first . At no point though did I feel like I was wearing a gimmick, something I had serious concerns about when the watch first arrived. There was something calming about adopting a timekeeping method reminiscent of the 16th century, when timekeeping was so inaccurate that a minute hand would have served little to no purpose, and time itself was not managed like today, but enjoyed.

There are five versions of the MeisterSinger Circularis Automatic in total. The version photographed here is the sunburst blue (though most of the people I showed it to thought was purple), but other dial options exist, including anthracite, bordeaux and ivory. The watch itself will set you back $5,395 and the optional mesh bracelet is an additional $520 over the leather strap. For more, visit MeisterSinger's website.

Last night KGI Securities analyst Ming-Chi Kuo wrote a research note to investors in which he predicts that the first major update to the Apple Watch will be coming this year, as early as at next month's iPhone release event. It's been nearly two years since the Apple Watch was first unveiled at a special event in Cupertino, California – we were there live, with a first look at the limited demo units – and there's been little indication of where the Watch might be going since then.

The Apple Watch's product cycles are unlike any we've seen from Apple in recent memory. There was the initial announcement in September 2014 and then a lull until the Watch actually went on sale in April 2015. Since then, we've seen two overhauls of watchOS (the Apple Watch's operating system), the most recent of which should roll out in just a few weeks, and which totally changes many of the key interactions. This will be the first hardware update, save new straps and colors (including the Hermès collaboration).

According to Kuo, there will be two updates, one major(ish) and one minor. The major update won't change the form factor of the Watch, but will add a faster processor, GPS, a barometer, a thinner display, better waterproofing, and a larger battery to power the new gizmos. This will be dubbed the Apple Watch 2. The more minor update might see price changes or small processor upgrades to the existing models,  which will retain the original names.

While details are still scarce, Kuo believes that LTE cellular technology will come to the Apple Watch in 2017, but that fans will likely have to wait until 2018 to see a major design update.

You can see the original report from MacRumors (which obtained a copy of Kuo's letter) here.

On a certain level, after wearing the Vacheron Constantin Historiques Cornes de Vache 1955 almost every day for a week, my feelings are as uncomplicated as "I like it. A lot." On another level, to leave it at that would be to do the watch, and the history it represents, a disservice. The Cornes de Vache is a watch that challenges a tremendous number of assumptions many of us have about what exactly it is that makes a watch important. Though in its own way it's a definitive, and even final, statement about a certain kind of classic watchmaking, it's also the opening line in a whole new conversation about originality, design fidelity, and authenticity.

The Cornes de Vache comes with a certain amount of philosophical baggage. First off, this is a watch deliberately and carefully designed to be irresistible to a certain class of watch enthusiast, with a certain kind of taste. It's based on a beloved vintage model (the Vacheron Constantin reference 6087) and at first glance it is so conservative in conception and execution as to be almost reactionary. The lugs, overall dimensions, chronograph pushers, dial, and, of course, the movement, make the watch as seductive as if it had been doused in some sort of watch enthusiast–baiting pheromone. Unlike so many homage watches, the Cornes de Vache doesn't invite you with one hand and repel you with the other. (It's a source of never-ending fascination to me that companies go to all the trouble of making a modern version of a beloved classic only to put obstacles in the way of liking it, in the form of changes that no one asked for).

A big part of the draw of this watch is the movement. It's impossible to imagine that the Cornes de Vache would have been the instant hit that it was with a different movement inside. In its original form, the Vacheron caliber 1142 was the Lemania caliber 2310, a column wheel–controlled, lateral clutch chronograph movement with a large balance, and Breguet overcoil balance spring. It was a class act all around, as they say. Caliber 1142 shares the basic engineering of the Lemania 2310 but with some major changes and upgrades, including those necessary to qualify it for the Geneva Hallmark.

For this reason, the movement's layout, mechanism, and finishing also make it a great tool for understanding how a classic chronograph works. It's worth looking at this caliber in greater depth both mechanically and aesthetically, since it has so much to do with the watch's impact, and the appeal of traditional movements.

How The Chronograph Works

This is a look through the caseback of the Cornes de Vache. The column wheel at the left is easily recognizable (and topped with a Maltese cross, just in case you have trouble spotting it). When you push the start button, a pawl engages the bottom level of the column wheel (sometimes called a castle wheel also, as it looks like a tiny fortress tower) and pulls it around clockwise. As it turns, the spaces and teeth on the upper level of the column wheel interact with the levers that determine whether or not the chronograph is stopped, running, or reset.

Above, you can see three wheels running more or less up the center of the movement.  The wheel on the bottom (at six o'clock in the picture) is on the pivot of the fourth wheel (the fourth wheel gears to the escape wheel, and turns once per minute; the running seconds hand is on the fourth wheel pivot on the dial side of the watch). The wheel at six o'clock is constantly turning, as is the intermediate wheel to which it is geared. The gear at the center of the movement is mounted on the chronograph center seconds hand, and directly above it, at 12:00, is the wheel carrying the hand for the chronograph minute counter.

Between roughly 10:00 and 11:00 you can see the two-armed reset hammer, with its arms resting on the return-to-zero heart pieces for the two chronograph hands. The hammer is held against the heart pieces by a blade spring, and it's the pressure of the two hammer faces on the heart pieces that keeps the hands from moving when the chronograph hasn't yet been started.

In the above image, the chronograph is running.  The start button has been pressed and the column wheel has been drawn around clockwise by the pawl. If you look closely you can see two important things have happened: first, the beak of the lever carrying the clutch wheel has been allowed to drop into the space between two upper column wheel teeth. This lets the clutch wheel drop into position, and now, through the clutch wheel, the driving wheel can make the center chronograph seconds hand wheel turn.

Secondly, the beak of the lever carrying the reset hammers has been lifted up onto one of the column wheel teeth. This has lifted the reset hammers off the return-to-zero heart pieces of the chronograph seconds and minutes wheels. So two things have happened at the same time: the clutch has been engaged to start turning the chronograph wheels, and the hammers have been lifted so the wheels can turn freely.  

In the above picture, the chronograph has been stopped.  The column wheel has been pulled around again, by pushing the start/stop button. Now the beak of the lever carrying the clutch wheel has been lifted up, disengaging the clutch and stopping the chronograph. However, the reset hammers haven't been allowed to fall. Instead, the chronograph center seconds hand is now being held in place by a brake lever, which has been allowed to fall onto the teeth of the center seconds wheel as the beak of the brake lever drops into the space between two column wheel teeth. At the same time it drops, it also moves a pin on one of its arms into position to prevent the return-to-zero hammers from falling. In this movement, the brake lever is a beautiful three-armed structure: one arm is the brake itself, one arm is the beak that interacts with the column wheel, and one arm is the integrated spring that makes the lever drop. It's a gorgeous little piece of steel.

If you're wondering about the chronograph minute wheel, it's indexed once a minute by the beak of a small brass wheel that is co-axial with, and carried by, the chronograph center seconds wheel. The beak of that wheel turns an intermediate gear (at about 11:00 from the chronograph center seconds wheel) which in turn, advances the chronograph minutes wheel at 12:00 one tooth. The minute wheel is held in place by a jumper spring, whose tension has to be exactly adjusted so the chronograph minute hand can't move too freely, but at the same time is not exerting so much pressure as to stop the chronograph or to create so much drag as to make balance amplitude drop (remember, this whole thing is being driven by a drive wheel mounted on the fourth wheel of the main gear train, where torque from the mainspring has been significantly reduced).

On the assumption that Vacheron would prefer that I not disassemble their watch, I'm going to rely on a supplied image for a look at the dial side (bottom plate) of the movement. In the center are the motion works (the gear system that turns the hands) and, to the right, the keyless works, which allow you to set the hour and minute hand when the crown is pulled out. The keyless works are beautifully designed and made; especially attractive is the complex shape of the integrated spring and cover plate, with its pragmatically determined but also visually compelling contours. As you'd expect, the steelwork is first class, with surfaces straight grained and edges beveled and polished.  

One very interesting thing to do, by the way, is to take a look at the wonderful high resolution photos made by Internet watch photo legend SteveG, whose website pioneered the genre of high resolution watch photography in the early 2000s.  Miraculously, the site is still up and completely intact.  One of his articles is on the Lemania caliber 2310, and this gives you the ability to compare the 2310 with Vacheron's caliber 1142.  The two share (as you'd expect) all the same basic engineering traits, but there are a number of differences as well, some of which have to do with the requirements of the Geneva Hallmark, and some of which are just part of the business of turning a solid base movement into a luxury level piece of haute horlogerie.  These include a much higher level of finish in cal. 1142; jeweling for the clutch wheel in cal. 1142 vs. none in 2310; the use of rhodium plating on the plate and bridges in 1142 vs. a gilt finish in 2310, and the use of a single, integrated jumper spring for the chronograph minutes wheel in 1142, vs. a separate spring and jumper in 2310 (easier to construct but less aesthetically appealing).  Still, it's also obvious on a side-by-side comparison that most of the parts could be exchanged between 1142 and 2310 (though notably, 1142 has a free-sprung balance and 2310 does not).

The Parts And The Whole

This watch is one of the most important enthusiast-oriented chronographs any company has made in quite some time. The movement's absolutely classic engineering is obviously appealing in itself (especially once you understand all that is going on), but it also supports a certain level of craftsmanship throughout, in terms of both finish and adjustment. It connects you to a real history, it manifests a high level of craft, and it demonstrates clearly the ingenuity of a mechanical solution to a timekeeping problem. That said, the watch does need to be considered in the context of modern watches if you're going to appreciate why the throw-back nature is appealing.

From a user standpoint, the lateral clutch is technically inferior to a modern vertical clutch – minutely, almost undetectably inferior, but inferior nonetheless. It is, however, a wonderfully easy mechanism to understand when you see it in action, with an intuitive visual clarity you don't get in a vertical clutch (and I'd be remiss in not pointing out that it's not universally agreed that a vertical clutch system is better anyway, as there are those of us who wonder whether a friction based mechanism has any place in precision timekeeping). 

A lot of the pleasure of having the Cornes de Vache on the wrist comes from knowing what's inside it, and from understanding that the movement has absolutely no concessions to speed of manufacturing or cost reductions. For better or worse, luxury's motto has always been "it takes as long as it takes, and it costs whatever it costs," and while the Cornes de Vache is an extremely expensive watch, it's also thankfully free of the all-too-easily-visible attempts to squeeze every last drop of margin out of a luxury product that you find at almost every turn in today's luxury industry.

On The Wrist

Without a case and dial to match, this would be just a gorgeous movement – beautiful, sure, but ultimately a fragment rather than a finished work. As we've already seen, the point of departure for the Cornes de Vache is the vintage reference 6087. Ref. 6087 was first made in 1955, and with only 36 examples made in all (all using the Vacheron caliber 492, based on the Valjoux 23) it's a very rare watch; it was also the last chronograph Vacheron Constantin made until 1987. At 35mm in diameter, it's on the small side for modern tastes. And, aside from the cow horn lugs, it's a fairly austere watch. Aside from the occasional addition of, in some models, a tachymeter scale, a telemeter scale, or a combination of the two (in one known example) there are almost no extraneous design flourishes. 

The modern Cornes de Vache is extremely faithful to the original, with the biggest differences being diameter (the modern Cornes de Vache is 38.5mm x 10.9mm), a slightly higher beat in the new model (21,600 vph vs 18,000 vph), and the presence of a shock protection system.  The aesthetic and technical similarities are very pronounced – so much so that in the time I wore the watch, it started to make me a little uncomfortable. It wasn't so much that I thought the watch itself showed any lack of imagination, and I never felt distanced from it (rather the opposite), but it did give me a nagging sense of doubt about a lot of the rest of modern watchmaking.  The only problem – if you can even call it a problem – is that the Cornes de Vache is both extremely conservative and extremely satisfying, which made me wonder why there's so much fuss about the typical flourishes that characterize modern luxury watchmaking. Did we really peak in 1955? Has it been downhill ever since?

It's a testimony to the success of the Cornes de Vache that a lot of the time, when you're wearing it, you don't think much about any of this. What made it work as a wristwatch back in 1955 is largely what makes it work today. Despite the fact that very little has changed about the design, and despite the fact that mechanically the movements in the old and new are kissing cousins (to put it mildly), the world around the design, and the movements, has changed quite a lot. What was in 1955 an extremely traditional, beautifully classic chronograph is, in 2016, still an extremely traditional, beautifully classic chronograph – as well as an almost photographically faithful reproduction of a traditional, classic chronograph.  The new version, therefore, has a dual character that the original does not.  

To some degree this is something all homage watches risk; with the Cornes de Vache the technical, craft, and design statements are so strong that this dual character is actually much more pronounced than usual.  I suspect, however, that over time – and certainly, this is a watch meant to be worn for quite a bit longer than a week – the essential character of the watch will assert itself, over and above its status as a reproduction, which is the point of the whole thing in the first place. 

The Historiques Cornes de Vache 1955, reference 5000H/000R-B059: Movement, caliber 1142; hand wound, 27.5 mm x 5.6 mm, 48 hour power reserve; 21,600 vph/3 hertz. Free-sprung, adjustable mass balance with Breguet overcoil. Case 18k 4N pink gold, water resistance 3 bar; 38.5 mm x 10.9 mm. Strap, dark brown alligator with pink gold pin buckle. $53,600; see it at Vacheron-Constantin.com.

Check out our Three On Three comparison between the top chronographs from Lange, Patek, and Vacheron here.