Appreciating the beauty, mechanical complexity, and historical importance of the tourbillon is not a difficult thing to do. A little knowledge and gazing at a few examples is about all that it takes. Generally though, I find myself happy enough to put tourbillon-equipped watches back on the shelf or in the box when I'm through with my few minutes of admiration. This watch is an exception. The A. Lange & Söhne 1815 Tourbillon is a superlative modern watch that combine high-end finishing, a respect for tradition, and a healthy dose of technological bravado. And I really, really want it.

At first glance, the 1815 Tourbillon is a simple enough watch. The dial is clean and open and there is a large aperture at 6 o'clock for viewing the one-minute tourbillon in action. The case shape, numerals, hands, and other details are all very typical Lange. If you ignore the massive, masterfully-finished tourbillon and it's dramatic bridge, there's nothing here shouting "mega watch" at all. And, yes, I fully understand the absurdity of that sentence.

What truly sets this watch apart though is that tourbillon and the technical architecture surrounding it. The mirror-polished bridge extends almost the full width of the dial, from 8 o'clock to 4 o'clock and the swooping shape of the tourbillon case itself is ornate enough to make itself known without going overboard. The deep opening offers a lot of negative space, providing amble room for visually appreciating each component.

The mechanism itself though isn't simply a tourbillon. Instead, Lange has taken the complication to its logical conclusion, adding both a stop-seconds mechanism and a zero-reset function. This is the first time Lange has combined these two patented mechanisms in one watch, but there's no first-time jitters here. The idea is that because a tourbillon is all about creating a highly accurate timekeeper, it only makes sense that one would be able to set the watch to the second. When you pull the 1815 Tourbillon's crown, the running seconds hand attached to the tourbillon cage snaps back to zero and the balance stops moving. Everything zeros out so you can set the time and pop the crown back in at just the right moment to ensure your watch is set properly. It's obsessive in the best way possible.

If you look carefully around the 20 seconds mark on the subdial, you can see a thin, Y-shaped spring peeking out and resting gently on the balance wheel. This is the stop-seconds mechanism. It looks impossibly delicate, but it's what holds the balance in place and prevents the case from turning. It's shaped this way and placed on a pivot for good reason: if one side hits the tourbillon cage instead of the balance, the spring swings around and the other side stops the balance instead. The zero-reset mechanism is similarly elegant and you can see it swing toward the center of the balance from the top left of the aperture. It uses a heart-shaped cam at the center and functions identically to a chronograph reset mechanism. There's a noticeable "snap" when you pull the crown and it makes setting the 1815 extremely satisfying.

The rest of the caliber L102.1 movement is wonderful as well. The German silver plates have deep, wide waves on them, the gold chaton hold large rubies, and there's even a diamond endstone where the tourbillon meets the hand-engraved balance cock. You definitely get the sense that Lange wanted it to be very, very difficult to find fault with anything in the 1815 Tourbillon.

Ultimately though, why I love this watch has little to do with how it looks under a loupe or how it functions on a table. It's how this watch wears that makes it so appealing. The 39.5mm case is just 11.1mm thick and even in pink gold or platinum it's light enough to wear comfortably all day. The tourbillon, while extremely complex and finished to the highest standard, is surprisingly subtle and doesn't scream "Look at my wrist!" from across the room. It might be a little aggressive with short sleeves, but even without a jacket I didn't find myself trying to downplay the 1815. There was none of the self-consciousness that I find usually accompanies wearing more ostentatious tourbillons. 

There's a good lesson to learn here: balance is important. Instead of surrounding the tourbillon with more glitz, more bling, or more complexity, Lange chose to exercise restraint and package the complication in a more tasteful package. The result is a watch that can be worn effortlessly, like a simple three-hander, but that packs serious watchmaking know-how inside with just the right amount of showiness. 

The 1815 Tourbillon is $164,100 in pink gold (as seen here) and $201,300 in platinum. The latter is limited to just 100 pieces. For more, visit A. Lange & Söhne. 

Mr. Kikuo Ibe never expected to be world famous, but famous he is: he's the man who invented the Casio G-Shock. At first, he hardly seems like the sort of person who could develop the world's toughest watch. He's slightly built, slim, soft-spoken, and bespectacled, which seems a little incongruous until you remember that G-Shock is as much an engineering achievement as a horological one, and Mr. Ibe is very much an engineer.  

The history of the G-Shock is full of interesting stories (as you'd expect of a family of watches designed to tolerate just about any sort of abuse imaginable) and in a recent conversation with Ibe, at Casio's offices in New York, I had a chance to dig back a bit into those stories and to find out what's apocryphal, what's legend, and what's true. Many of the highlights in the story of G-Shock are familiar to hardcore G-Shock fans (and yes, there is a worldwide community of G-Shock collectors as serious about their watches as any gaggle of vintage Patek or Rolex collectors), but hearing them from the man who started it all over 30 years ago is a reminder of how much persistence it took to bring G-Shock to life.

First of all, yes, it's absolutely true that Ibe got the idea for G-Shock after a beloved mechanical watch broke. The watch was a gift from his father, and one day, while walking down the street (he'd been with Casio for several years already when the accident happened) another pedestrian bumped into him hard enough to break the band of his watch and knock it to the pavement (Ibe says he tried to catch it, but missed). The watch broke in pretty much every way a watch can break: the hands were dislodged, the caseback came off, and the band broke. What Ibe won't tell, however, is what brand and model watch it was. He says he's been asked many times, but prefers not to say, beyond acknowledging that it was mechanical, a Japanese-made domestic model, and not a Casio.

Ibe began working on prototypes for a shock-proof watch in 1981. At the time, he says, the main goal in quartz watchmaking was to make very thin watches, so he started by trying to make housings for LCD quartz movements that would allow them to tolerate severe impacts. In 1982 he'd made enough progress for the development of G-Shock to become an official Casio project, with eight engineers assigned. The initial prototypes were proof-of-concept models and not especially wearable.

The testing process didn't really get off the ground until Ibe, seeing a girl bouncing a ball in a playground, got the idea of putting the movement inside a resilient structure that would isolate it from shocks. It's also absolutely true that the prototypes were tested by being thrown out of an upper floor bathroom window at Casio's research and development center: specifically, the third floor men's room window. The distance to the pavement below was ten meters, and Ibe's goal was to make a watch capable of surviving a ten meter fall, with a ten year battery life, and ten bar (100 meter) water resistance. The very first G-Shock model, DW-5000, came out in 1983, with 200m water resistance and, needless to say, the ability to survive a ten meter fall. Ibe says he tested the production prototypes in every way he could think of, including running them over with a car.

The G-Shock you see here is one of the rarest in the world: the "Project Team Tough" G-Shock. These were given to the original eight-man development team and are identical to production models, except for the inclusion of the words "Project Team Tough" on the dial. Though eight were made in 1983, only two survive today. Ibe also says that, much to his regret, he didn't save any of the over 200 prototypes and that if he'd known how successful G-Shock was going to be, he'd never have thrown them out.  

Other than the development of the original model, Ibe says that one of the biggest, if not the biggest, challenge his development team ever faced was creating a G-Shock with a metal case that would still have the same tough qualities as the earlier models. The idea in doing so was to create a G-Shock that could be worn on more formal occasions. The development process taxed his engineering team so much that to motivate them, he eventually "told them a little white lie" and promised that they were sure to be interviewed by a major magazine if they succeeded. As you can see from the development prototypes above the physical testing process was rather more brutal than not. One of the more significant challenges was figuring out how to secure the caseback against shock; in the urethane models the semi-rigid urethane strap actually acts as a shock absorber. In the metal model, the bracelet links were engineered so as to ensure they would fold inward, allowing the metal bracelet to absorb impact as well.  The team eventually succeeded and on the right above, you can see the very first metal-cased G-Shock MRG-100, which was the first G-Shock to successfully dispense with the urethane outer shell of previous models.

Today, the most aesthetically complex G-Shock is the MRGG1000HT "Hammer Tone." At $6,200, it's also the most expensive G-Shock ever made, although the amount of manual craft that goes into it is also pretty off-the-charts (certainly, by G-Shock standards). The bezel and bracelet center links are decorated with the hammering technique known as tsuiki, but what's been less widely reported is that all the tsuiki decoration on all 300 models was done by one craftsman, Bihou Asano of Kyoto, who took half a year to complete the whole series.

So what would Kikuo Ibe like to do next? A pet project of his is developing a G-Shock capable of being used for spacewalks. G-Shocks have of course been used inside spacecraft by astronauts and mission crew, but the big challenge, says Ibe, isn't radiation or magnetic fields: it's making a G-Shock that can tolerate the temperature swings found outside a spacecraft, which, according to NASA, can range from -250 to 250 degrees Fahrenheit. (For reference, the original qualifying tests to which the Speedmaster was subjected by NASA included a high temperature test, of 48 hours at 160 °F (71 °C) followed by 30 minutes at 200 °F (93 °C), plus a low temperature test of four hours at 0 °F (−18 °C).

Interestingly enough, after 33 years, Ibe's personal favorite G-Shock model remains the original DW-5000, and those modern models which haven't departed too much from the original design. There is a blunt purity of purpose to the G-Shock that's unlike anything else in horology, and Ibe says that though the G-Shock has certainly become much more of a pop-culture icon than he'd ever dreamed possible (the MRG-100 team actually did get their big magazine interview, by the way, and the G-Shock has been in and out of the media spotlight countless times ever since) he feels that without the basic ability to stand up to anything you can throw at it that doesn't actually kill you, as well as a lot of things that actually might, the G-Shock would never have become what it is today.

Check out our in-depth coverage of the Hammer Tone Limited edition here, and the G-Shock as part of our inaugural Two Watch Collection column.

We want you to join us for an upcoming HODINKEE event. Seriously. Whether it's celebrating leap day with some readers in New York City or hosting a pop-up at Harrods in London, we love bringing our passion for watches offline and into the real world. That's where you come in: We're going to be expanding the number of cities in which we host events over the coming months and we'll be making decisions about where to go, what to bring, and who to invite based on your feedback. 

Please click the link below and take a brief survey so we can include you next time we're in town. We just want a few really basic answers, like where you can attend events, what kinds of watches you're interested in, and whether we've seen you at an event before. The survey will be live through Friday, August 19, but we'd love to hear from you now.

Take this quick survey to be invited to future HODINKEE events. 

Every week we bring you a new selection of vintage watches and we try to keep it fresh. This week we have a variety of vintage pieces you may have never seen before, along with some old favorites. We have everything from a 1968 Rolex GMT reference 1675 with insane patina to a bright Vulcain Cricket Nautical reference S2322B. Read on to see our highlights from this week at the HODINKEE Shop.

A 1960s Heuer Automatic Dress Watch

Heuer is a manufacture most often associated with their chronographs, however, once in a while they made other cool watches like this tonneau-shaped automatic dress watch. The stainless-steel case houses an automatic caliber AS 1580 movement, and this dress watch is in serious NOS condition, even having its original hangtag. For more information on this watch click here.  

A 1940s Tissot Chronograph With Caliber 33.3 Movement

This Tissot is not only beautiful, but it is also powered by the famed Omega caliber 33.3 chronograph. Interestingly enough, Tissot and Omega were once the same brand, the only thing that differed was the signature on the dial. This Tissot is a great example of that moment in watchmaking history, with a balanced two-tone dial and multi-colored scales around the edge. For more information on this piece, click here. 

A 1968 Rolex GMT-Master Reference 1675

Everyone loves a vintage Rolex GMT-Master reference 1675, but this one shows exceptional patina, especially on the bi-color bezel. It's not often you find one with this color variation and with a beautifully aged dial, let alone with a thick case to boot. For more information on this bad boy, click here. 

That's Not All!

In addition to these three beauties, we have nine additional watches for the taking: a 1960s IWC dress watch in rose gold, a 1960s Omega Admiralty watch with "Fixo-Flex" bracelet, a 1940s Universal Genève Compax reference 12550, a 1960s Jaeger LeCoultre Memovox Automatic, a 1960s Heuer Carrera reference 3647S, a 1960s Eterna oversized steel watch, a 1970s Vulcain Cricket Nautical reference S2322B, a 1960s Dodane Type 21 with military engravings, and a 1960s Universal Genève Tri-Compax reference 881101/02.

For the complete listings, click here. 

This won’t be an impartial review of a vintage watch – far from it. I own, and love, this 1960s chronograph from Breitling. I wish to explain here what led me to a watch with a 41mm case, when I usually swear by more modest sizes for my personal watches. Like all good love stories, it wasn't planned: I found this Breitling in a small French city, and could not look away. Months later, I wore it for seven consecutive days, and I can see that happening again in the future, many times.

Let’s start with the obvious: the Breitling reference 765 AVI is not a small watch. With a diameter of 41mm, its case is considerably larger than most other watches from the 1960s, even those meant for pilots and drivers. For comparison's sake, the contemporary Rolex Daytona was 36-37mm, while the AVI’s rival, the Breguet Type 20, stood at 38mm. And, yes, the shadow of the Type 20 cannot be avoided in this story. The resemblance between the Breitling and the Type 20 is not an accident. Breitling was very much hoping to win the contract with the French army when it first introduced the AVI in 1953, but the lack of a flyback complication opened the doors for Auricoste, Breguet, Dodane, and Vixa, who would go on to supply French fighters with chronographs.

The AVI’s less glorious destiny did not deter me, however. On the contrary. There is something poetic about believing in the underdog and realizing how great it can actually be. My Breitling AVI is not the first iteration of the line. As with many vintage Breitling chronos, the original configuration of the reference 765 AVI came with black sub-registers. It even came with a quirky feature, not seen in many other watches: a digital readout for the elapsed minutes of the chronograph, where you would usually expect the date window to be. Later it adopted a more standard layout with two chronograph sub-registers (and one for running seconds), which eventually were given the silvery finish found on many other Breitling chronographs, from the Navitimer to the Top Time.

The utilitarian nature of this Breitling jumps out quickly, and not only from the oversized case. The legibility of the glossy black dial is admirable, and the massive sub-dial at 3 o'clock clearly shows where the focus is meant to be. It's also worth noting that the chronograph's 15-minute counter required a modification to the standard Valjoux 178, usually set for 30 minutes. Why go through that mechanical trouble? This is where Breitling's aviation roots are obvious, as 15 minutes was the exact duration of a plane's pre-flight check required to clear it for takeoff. This also explains the unique lume dashes inside the sub-register to mark every three minutes, making this routine as easy as possible to time for the pilots and technicians involved.

This unique design was obviously attractive on its own, but my Breitling has something extra that, as a Frenchman, I could not resist. Under the Breitling logo, an additional "Lip" signature can be seen above the central pivot for the hands. Those three little letters might be subtle, but they play a major role in the watchmaking history of my homeland. Lip was a well-known French manufacture that offered great watches at reasonable prices, from the elegant Dauphine to the sporty Nautic-Ski. It was such an important player in France during the middle of the 20th century that Blancpain and Breitling each sought a partnership for local distribution, leading to these double-signed dials.

This leads us to a really geeky question that I don’t have the answer for: how is it possible for a watch from 1965 to have a dial with an extra signature from a partnership that wasn't made official until 1966 and didn't go into full effect until 1967 (according to most sources)? There are a few possibilities. One simple explanation is that all these years later the actual starting date of the partnership has been confused and it began a year or two earlier, even unofficially. Another, more likely, explanation is that the Lip-Breitling deal was aimed at unloading Breitling’s less popular watches in France, so this dial received the Lip stamp after its original manufacturing date but before it was ever sold to a customer. There's a bit of downtrodden romance to the idea that this watch sat unwanted, only to receive the marking that makes it so special today. 

In any case, this watch was purchased sometime in the late '60s and remained in the same home until I was lucky enough to stumble upon it. It was worn less and less as quartz watches gained momentum, and was then completely forgotten in a drawer for decades. This is a more frequent path for watches than you might think, and sometimes a source of beautiful new-old-stock gems. With this watch, the condition is just far enough from perfect to make an amazing daily-wear wristwatch. I find anything too pristine intimidating – I don't want to be the one to put that first scratch on a perfect bezel or the first ding in a case that's remained crisp for 40 years – while pieces worn sparingly that have been properly enjoyed while retaining their original lines are my favorite. For example, this AVI still has a great case, with sharp lugs and a reverse panda dial with only light fading to the indexes. The steel bezel is in line with this overall condition too, with some wear to the eight. Even the seconds hand, with its slightly lighter lume, shows that this watch did, at one time, see the light of day before hitting my wrist.

The sheer size and rugged style of this 765 AVI make it the perfect complement to jeans and a t-shirt. I wear mine on either a period-correct but not original bracelet, which is as comfortable as it is edgy-looking, or a more subdued NATO strap, like the actress Raquel Welch in the movie Fathom, a connection celebrated by many Breitling ads at the time. Leather straps might get some play when the temperatures are cooler, but this time of year I stay with a NATO for a weekend watch like this.

It's probably obvious by now that I'm quite infatuated with this watch, so I'll stop waxing poetic in a moment. To me, this Breitling illustrates everything that I love about vintage watch collecting, blending provenance, stunning looks, and a few opportunities to get nerdy about the details. Every time I look at the glossy black dial I can’t avoid mentally traveling back to Paris, or imagining myself piloting a plane in the glamorous 1960s. Not a bad little time capsule, is it?

If you are anything like me, you have been glued to your TV watching the Olympics. The excitement of countries competing against one another on the race track, pommel horse, volleyball court, or swimming pool is undeniable. Sometimes it's friendly, sometimes it's not, but no matter what you know you're going to get a good show. One of the best shows, besides the gymnastics (you go girls!), is Michael Phelps, aka the most decorated Olympian of all time. 

Phelps has been a fixture on the scene since 2000, when he was a mere 15 year old child. He later won his first six gold medals at the 2004 Olympic games in Athens and has basically been parked at the top of the winners' podium ever since. This year, he is stronger (and leaner?) than ever, picking up three gold medals thus far, bringing his gold medal total to a whopping 21. Yes. Twenty. One. Gold. Medals. What did you do this week?

You are probably wondering how Omega ties into all this. Omega has been the official time-keeper of the Olympics since 1932, and has always been ahead of the curve when it comes to technology and accuracy. So how exactly did they time the 200m Butterfly that Phelps crushed in 1:53:36? 

The diving blocks are loaded with sensors on the back foot-rest, which measure the swimmers' reaction times. There are integrated loudspeakers on each of the blocks that emit the starting signal simultaneously – that really short "eee" sound you are probably used to by now if what officially signifies the start of the race. 

After the swimmers complete the 100 m, 200 m, or whatever race they are trying to win, they simply have to touch the wall to stop their time, as the pool wall is also loaded with sensors. These sensors respond to a force of just 1.5-2.5 kg, so even a light touch will trigger them. Additionally, there are high-speed cameras (like the one you see in the picture above), that take 100 images per second and send those images to the timekeepers in the control room, just in case a literal photo-finish is necessary.

So there you have it, that is how Omega officially timed Phelps's victory swim last night. Truth be told, Omega's role in the Olympics is pretty incredible and adds an element of depth to the company that not many people know about or really understand. This facet of the brand has little or nothing to do with wristwatches or anything you'll ever see in an Omega boutique – it's about rigorous, scientific timekeeping at the edge of what we can do technologically. The more you know. 

For the official Omega video on timing, click here. 

In June of 1920, a semi-obscure retired Royal Navy officer working on a book covering the history of marine chronometers ran across something remarkable at the Royal Observatory at Greenwich: the clocks known as H1, H2, H3, and H4, which had been built over the course of a lifetime by John Harrison. But what he found horrified him. Four of the most important clocks in the history of horology had laid ignored for so long that they were not only in a state of complete disrepair, but also extremely filthy. The man in question was Lieutenant Commander Rupert T. Gould, who was later to write, “All were dirty, defective, and corroded – while No. 1 (H1) in particular looked like it had gone down with the Royal George and been on the bottom ever since. It was covered – even the wooden portions – with a bluish-green patina...I could not bear to see them in this condition. It seemed to me such a futile, tragic ending to a great adventure. They were the first accurate marine chronometers ever made – the life work of an original genius who was also an Englishman...surely they deserved a better fate."

For Gould, it was something of a pivotal moment in a life that was full of pivotal moments, many of which had led him to rather unexpected places. Gould was, at the time he found the sea clocks, in the middle of working on a remarkable book: The Marine Chronometer: Its History And Development, which he finished writing in 1923. The completion of the book was followed by a nervous breakdown, but it wasn't the first that Gould was to suffer (nor the last). To read the book is to wonder no longer how producing something so technically complex and thoroughly researched could have produced such severe stress; it is also to wonder how it could have been done in only four years. Both the subject itself, as well as Gould's obvious mastery of it, meant that the book (then, as well as now) has appeal well beyond the horological community. Gould's fans included Rudyard Kipling, who according tho Jonathan Betts, MBE, of the Royal Observatory (and Gould's biographer) "sent two letters to Gould, extolling the virtues of the book."

Gould was a character, but he was also an obsessive, brilliant researcher beset for much of his life by depression. In his writing, research, and horological pursuits though he found a little relief from his own company. Gould was born in 1890 and at the start of the First World War he was serving as a navigation officer in the Royal Navy. The onset of the war and his first episode of depression coincided, and he was sent home. He recovered, married in 1917, and had two children (a boy and a girl) in rapid succession. His promotion to Lt. Commander took place in 1919, the year he began work on The Marine Chronometer.  

To say that Gould took the bit between his teeth – both in writing the book and in restoring the Harrison sea clocks – is to say nothing at all, which is probably a good thing considering the state of the clocks. In Longitude, Dava Sobel writes, "Gould, a man of great sensitivity, was so appalled by this pitiful neglect [of the sea clocks] that he sought permission to restore all four...to working order. He offered to do the work, which took him twelve years, without pay, and despite the fact that he had no horological training. 'I reflected that, so far as that was concerned, Harrison and I were in the same boat,' Gould remarked with typical good humor [Harrison had had no formal training as a clockmaker either] 'and that if I started with No. 1 I could scarcely do that machine any further harm.' So he set to work right away with an ordinary hat brush, removing two full ounces of dirt and verdigris from H1."  Sobel recounts that Gould would eventually fill eighteen notebooks with "meticulous colored-ink drawings and elaborate verbal descriptions far clearer than anything Harrison ever wrote."  

The twelve years it took to complete his restorations were some of the hardest of Gould's life – he went through a divorce in 1927 that was so acrimonious that it became a public scandal, causing him to be dismissed from his position at the Hydrographic Office and nearly ruining him economically, as well as sending him into another bout of depression. Despite this, he would go on to write prolifically, on (it has to be said) a weirdly varied range of topics. His works include titles like Oddities: A Book Of Unexplained Facts (on phenomena like rains of fishes), The Stargazer Talks (lectures on astronomy), The Loch Ness Monster (the first book ever written on the subject), and even The Story Of The Typewriter From The 18th To The 20th Centuries. 

He even became a television personality, starring on the BBC as part of the panel on The Brains Trust, in which experts fielded questions from the television audience. Some of his non-horological work has faded into semi-obscurity over time, but this book and his incredible achievement in restoring the Harrison sea clocks have made him one of the most important figures in the last two centuries of horology.

The Marine Chronometer is, quite simply, indispensable in any serious horological library. Gould finished the first edition in 1923 and spent the rest of his life working on material for the Second Edition, which he did not live to see printed. Gould died in 1948 of heart failure, at only 57 years old, but the Second Edition was finally released in 2013. The version you see here contains not only all of Gould’s text (which, characteristically, he typed from memory of the First Edition’s typescript) but also all his illustrations and notes. The work is informed by a depth of understanding that only comes from practical experience, and while Gould’s work on the Harrison marine chronometers was not always as conservative as one might have liked, it gave him an unparalleled grasp of practical problems in precision timekeeping – a grasp which, in combination with his gift for clear, understandable technical writing, makes The Marine Chronometer a Rosetta Stone for understanding the evolution of timekeepers on whose performance the fate of merchant marines, blue water navies, and entire nations could depend.

I can't recommend The Marine Chronometer strongly enough; a book for anyone building a horological library, and as essential and foundational a book as Daniels’ Watchmaking.

The Marine Chronometer: Its History and Development is now available in the HODINKEE shop.

If you're a fan of vintage watches, and you happen to be on Instagram, then you likely know the username "HKendrick47." You might not, however, know who this vintage-watch-loving, Leica-shooting man really is. Howie Kendrick, or Howard Kendrick, as his friends call him, is truly one of the friendliest guys you'll ever meet, inside or outside of watches. After spending nine years with Major League Baseball's Anaheim/Los Angeles Angels, he moved across town to join the Dodgers in 2014. He's a fan favorite in Los Angeles for his always-positive disposition, family-first mentality, and his genuine interest in interacting with baseball, photography, and watch lovers all over the world. Howie Kendrick is also, as far as we know, the only professional baseball player to truly collect vintage watches. This is your official HODINKEE Talking Watches with Howie Kendrick of the Los Angeles Dodgers.

Gilt Rolex Submariner Reference 5513

The very first vintage watch Howie purchased was this beautiful gilt dial Rolex Submariner reference 5513. It dates to the mid 1960s and has a lovely look, with a chapter ring dial. He is an avid strap changer (just like the rest of us) and almost never wears it on the rivet bracelet on which it came.

Rolex Red Submariner Reference 1680

Like so many, we start looking for a watch assuming we'll buy one thing, and come out with something else entirely. When Howie entered a Ralph Lauren store some years ago, he went in assuming he'd leave with a Pepsi GMT, but instead, he ended up with this Red Submariner 1680. The Red Sub remains one of the of the classic stepping stones in vintage Rolex collecting and his example is just gorgeous.

LeCoultre Deep Sea Alarm

Every watch has a story, and this 1959 LeCoultre Deep Sea Alarm made its way into Howie's collection via a trade. On a whim he purchased a modern IWC Portuguese Perpetual Calendar but found it didn't fit him, and via a friendly dealer he was able to swap it for this Deep Sea Alarm. While not in mint condition, it has a lot of charm and he finds these tool watches mean much more him with a little wear.

1960s Breitling Superocean

Not the first Talking Watches guest to share his love for the original Superocean Chronograph, Howie fell for this oversized chronograph because of the slow moving chronograph hand, the activation dot (come on, how can you not love that?), and its large-for-the-day size.

Heuer Bundeswehr

Similar to the Breitling, this military-issued Heuer fits well into Howie's general theme of collecting tool watches. It's a chronograph, purpose-built, and has a lot of that 1960s charm. He hails from a military family, so it is natural that these issued watches appeal to him.

Omega 53 Military Watch

To take Howie's interest in military watches even further, this 1953 British Military Omega hits all the right notes, despite being in a small (for him) size. He says he's been craving something with the circled T on the dial, and until a MilSub comes his way, this one will do just fine.

Tudor Submariner Reference 7928

This Tudor 7928 is the brother to the gilt 5513 above, and Howie loves the rose logo and natural aging to the dial. No safe-queen, this one sees a lot of wrist-time.

Rolex GMT Reference 1675

If you're going to own tool watches, in particular those from Rolex, you have to own a Pepsi-bezel GMT. This nice 1675 is also the only sports watch he keeps on a bracelet, and he wears it often when he's on the road.

Omega Speedmaster Professional

Yes, professional baseball players cruise Ebay for watches just like the rest of us! This caliber 321-powered Speedmaster is one that made its way into his collection via the online auction site and its chocolate dial is something Howie wasn't sure he'd like until he saw it in the bright sunlight.

Rolex Yachtmaster II

At the end of the day, there is just something special about a yellow gold Rolex. And even more so when you're a professional athlete. What's amazing about this watch is that before he purchased this, Howie was considering buying an A. Lange & Söhne Zeitwerk Minute Repeater, but decided not to go through with it. A Lange Datograph remains his grail watch, however.

Panerai Luminor Submersible 1950 (PAM507) / Luminor Amagnetic 3 Days Automatic Titanio (PAM389)

In addition to his one gold Rolex, Howie is a fan of the military-styled Panerais. The two he wears the most are the 507 Bronzo and the amagnetic titanium PAM389. You'll often see these on his wrist on the road, as he doesn't worry as much about beating them up a little bit.

Be sure to follow Howie Kendrick on Instagram right here for more from this great athlete, talented photographer, and true watch lover.

Video/photos: Will Holloway

This week's selection of watches starts with two heavyweights, absolute grails for many collectors. One is a Rolex, a very rare kind of Explorer with a single line on the dial that changes everything. The other is an oversized Patek Philippe Calatrava with a double signature. You will also find some less high-profile watches, from a Superman LeJour (yes, that is the actual name of this diver) to a great chronograph from Mathey Tissot. This is your Bring A Loupe for August 12, 2016.

Patek Philippe Calatrava Reference 570 With Double-Signed Dial

The reference 570 might not be the very first Calatrava, but it is undoubtedly one of the most desirable. Its large-for-the-time 35mm case still offers everything that made the earlier Calatravas so coveted, from the flat bezel to the perfectly balanced dial. Its few additional millimeters make a huge difference from the 31mm size of the original reference 96 too. For that reason, the 570 proved extremely popular and was produced during 30 consecutive years until the mid-1960s. Looking at the dial, the short signature ("Patek Philippe", without the "& Co" mention) allows us to date this watch post 1948, when the branding change happened. There is something else to notice on the dial, just above the elegant small second register: the word "Trucchi," for the famous retailer based in Naples, Italy. Note that its lugs do show some previous polishing, but that's something to expect with a piece of this age. 

A vintage dealer based in Tel Aviv is offering this lovely Calatrava here. 

Rolex Explorer 1016 'Space-Dweller'

Rare is a term often used liberally when it comes to vintage Rolex, but there are few watches for which it is more appropriate than it is for the Space-Dweller. This is one of those mythical watches you hear about, but almost never see in person. It looks like a regular Explorer 1016 from the 1960s, except for one line of text on the dial. That sounds small, but it's a pretty big deal. In short, this rare Explorer was specifically created for the Japanese market after a visit from the Mercury astronauts in 1963; however, the branding never really caught on, very few were produced, and the watch became a unicorn of many Rolex enthusiasts. You can also bet that, like all 1016s, the slim 36mm case is going to be a wonder on the wrist. This example shows a bit of corrosion on the periphery, but overall the glossy dial looks great.    

A dealer focused on vintage Rolex just listed this uber rare Space-Dweller for $85,000 here.

LeJour Superman Diver

The "Superman" name brings a lot of expectations, and this LeJour deals with them admirably. This watch was initially launched in 1963 in France, and claimed to be (almost) indestructible. The 39mm diver was rapidly adopted by the French Army and many adventurers; interestingly, it was also advertised to businessmen as a worry-free daily wearer. The lock mechanism of the bezel was patented, and gives this unique look to the Superman. LeJour (meaning "the day" in French) is only the export name of Yema, a major French watchmaking company at the time, which explains the prominent Y engraved on the case back. And you should not worry about the bright green tone of the patina, it is very common for these watches. The French mix for the lume was definitely something special...

Menta Watches is offering this unusual diver for $1,250 here.

A Mathey Tissot Chronograph

This is the only chronograph in this week's selection, but it won't disappoint. While you might not be familiar with Mathey Tissot, the company has solid watchmaking roots going back to the 19th Century, and was notably a trusted manufacturer of the Type 20 for Breguet. This chrono shows that the company's own production was quite striking too. On paper, the specs are very promising: a 40mm Supercompressor case, the trusted caliber Valjoux 72, and a good looking dial with red accents. In real life, it looks even better as the brown dial started to even more tropical and the lume dot of the bezel comes with some dreamy patina.

You can find this attractive chrono here, with price upon inquiry.

Longines Ultronic Reference 8623-1

Let's conclude with a battery-powered Longines, this blue-dialed Ultronic. The reference 8623 is a typical example of what the manufacture was doing in the early 1970s, when its electronic caliber 6312 (a re-branded ESA 9162) was deemed the future of watchmaking. In principle, it is very similar to the Bulova Accutron, as this movement was actually created by one of Bulova's former engineers. Both rely on a tuning fork vibrating at a very high frequency, hence a sweeping second hand and the "humming" that they produce. Eventually, this technology did not survive as quartz became the electronic standard, but the superb condition of this example merits some interest. The case looks really crisp, the blue dial is superb, and the red seconds hand brings a welcome dash of funkiness.

This blue Ultronic is listed on Ebay here; at the time of publishing, bidding was still below $200.

Tourbillons. They seem to be everywhere these days, and whether you love them or not, they are here to stay. Let me start off by saying I am not generally a huge fan of tourbillons; usually I find them overdone and and a wee-bit flashy. That is not to say I don’t like any tourbillon wristwatches though (that Lange that Stephen wrote about the other day is pretty legit), just that I think some brands tend to pop a tourbillon into a watch when possible, raise the price, and ignore whether or not it's actually improving the product at all. However, I'm always happy to see a ladies' watch with something more complicated than a stock quartz ticker inside, and that brings us to the Girard-Perregaux Cat’s Eye Tourbilllon with Gold Bridge.

It's surprisingly hard to find a thoughtful, complicated watch for women in this day and age. Girard-Perregaux is no stranger to highly-complicated ladies’ watches and this is not the first tourbillon the company has created for women. In fact, back in 2013 there was a special version of G-P's signature three golden bridges tourbillon adapted for women. At Baselworld this year, Girard-Perregaux showed the Cat’s Eye Tourbillon, this time with one gold bridge still visible up front.

The Cat’s Eye Tourbillon is available in two versions: one with a diamond-set dial and the other with a carved mother-of-pearl dial. The one you see here is the latter, and its oval-shaped case measures 38.4mm by 32.9mm and 12.7mm thick. The dial is something to appreciate just by itself. The round engravings give it a look unlike any other mother-of-pearl dial I've seen before. It's iridescent without being too shiny or sparkly and it's obvious that it's been beautifully hand-crafted. 

The white gold case is fully set with pavé diamonds in a special snow-like pattern. This technique involves setting various size stones (over 1,000 of them) side-by-side to create the snow-like effect. All this work is done free-hand by a very small number of artisans, and since it is impossible to imitate the same exact setting on two different watches, technically each Cat’s Eye Tourbillon is unique piece. Whether you like the look or not, there's no denying the skill it takes to create a case like this.

But, let's remember, this isn't a watch all about the surface. The movement inside is the caliber GP09700-0011, which is manually-wound and has a 70-hour power reserve. The tourbillon sits down at 6 o'clock and the cage is secured by a large white gold bridge. The bridge is the same shape as what you'll find on the three golden bridge models, including the arrow-shaped ends, and this one features ornate engraving as well.

So how does it wear? At 12.7mm thick, this watch is pretty significant on the wrist. To put things in perspective, the Datograph (a watch loved despite being a little thick) is just 13.1mm thick. For someone with a smaller wrist, there's no getting around this being a pretty dense watch. There is also something about the oval case shape that gives the illusion that the watch is sitting higher than it actually is. I don’t hate the white strap the watch comes on, but while Girard-Perregaux probably intended for this watch to be a dress watch, think it's much better suited to pairing with jeans and a t-shirt (because why not).

Okay, so we know it looks good, it's mechanically impressive, and it features loads of craftsmanship, but what are my actual thoughts on this sparkly number? 

Well, upon first seeing this watch, I didn’t really know what to think. Part of me was delighted by the complication, as well as (secretly) by the sheer volume and shininess. Yes, I, Cara Barrett, sometimes genuinely like a good gem-set watch. The other, more understated part of me, however, was slightly turned off. Not by the watch itself, but by the fact that a watch this seemingly-garish actually exists in today’s day and age. These feelings are not uncomplicated.

So, do I like this watch for what it is? Yes. Is it everything I want in a modern ladies' watch? No. But that’s a discussion for another time.

The Girard-Perregaux Cat’s Eye Tourbillon with Gold Bridge retails for $296,000. For more information on Girard-Perregaux click here. 

In June, Sotheby's had the unprecedented opportunity to sell a 1,109 carat uncut diamond, the largest in the world by far. But the vaunted auction house couldn't find a buyer.

The Lesedi La Rona diamond was placed on the block during an evening sale in London, and after an opening bid of $50 million, things stalled out entirely. No flurry of paddles, no wild result, and, importantly, no big premium for Sotheby's. It hammered below the reserve price and didn't sell. While Vanity Fair's account of this story has nothing to do with watches per se, it's an in-depth look at the mechanics and politics of high-end auctions, the global luxury market, and how objects of desire come to possess their hypnotic powers (or not). It takes us from the coast of Angola to a showroom in Singapore, and finally back to that London auction room.

Grab a cup of cold brew, put your feet up, and let us know what you think of this tale.

Visit Vanity Fair to read the full story.

Tribute watches are all the rage these days (and have been for some time). As collectors become more and more educated about vintage watches, contemporary watchmakers are trying to woo them with modern interpretations of the watches they might be lusting after in auction catalogs. Sometimes these watches are a massive success, capturing the spirit of the original; sometimes these watches are frustrating, taking something we love and mucking it up. With the CK2998, Omega has created one of the most compelling Speedmasters in recent history and a watch that flat-out makes me smile.

Reissues of classic Speedmasters are nothing new for Omega. From the Speedmaster '57 with its broad arrow hand and steel bezel to the First Omega in Space that commemorates a 1962 trip to orbit, the company isn't hesitant about paying homage to its history. Most of the time though, Omega does a good job – not an easy task when dealing with a watch as beloved as the Speedmaster, not to mention how detail-oriented collectors get when it comes to vintage models.

The CK2998 limited edition is inspired by the original 1959 Speedmaster ref. 2998, the archetype for the Speedmaster as most of us know it. It was the first model to feature the black bezel commonly associated with this watch (previously the bezel was steel) and the little dial details, hand shapes, and case profile all make it a benchmark in the Speedy's history. Back in 2014, we found an original 2998-1 Speedmaster for sale with full box and papers – if you want a more in-depth history lesson, go check out that story.

The watch we have here is 39.7mm across and 14.37mm thick, meaning it feels a little like a vintage watch right off the bat. The steel case has straight lugs (another throwback to the earliest Speedies, which didn't have the curved lugs yet) and simple pump pushers at 2 o'clock and 4 o'clock. The most immediately apparent difference between the CK2998 and older Speedmasters is the color scheme. For this watch, Omega chose a new blue and silver combination that's reminiscent of a black and white panda dial. The ceramic bezel (with luminous markings), subdials, minutes track, and strap are all matching blue, while the ground of the dial has a semi-iridescent silver finish. In most lighting conditions, the combo reads more like navy and cream than bright blue and silver, but whatever you call it the colors are downright handsome.

The details though are what makes this such a successful tribute watch. Look closely at the tachymeter bezel and you'll see that it reads "Base 1000" at the top right. This is straight off the 2998-1 bezel, with later bezels starting at 500 instead. It would have been easy to miss this, but luckily Omega didn't. Also, the alpha-shaped hour and minute hands are accompanied by a bold "lollipop" seconds hand, with the large luminous dot at the tip. This is yet another flourish of the original watch that was important to get right (it's worth noting that the very first 2998-1 had a slim, straight seconds hand, even if that's not the version most coveted today).

Then there's the movement inside: a caliber 1861 manually-wound chronograph. I know, you're probably thinking to yourself something like "But the original moonwatches used the famous caliber 321 movement!" You're right, but Omega hasn't regularly cased up 321-driven Speedmasters since Lyndon B. Johnson was president and in 1972 NASA flight-certified Speedmasters equipped with the caliber 861 movement, which made their way into space on future missions. The 1861 is the direct descendent of the 861, with nominal differences, and Speedsmasters power by the 1861 are currently being used on the International Space Station for EVA (extravehicular activity), also know as space walks. 

The CK2998 looks good on a desk or in a display case, but it's on the wrist that the watch really takes on its full character. It's the sort of watch you glance at only to find yourself lingering to admire the shape of the hands or the finish of the sub-registers. The case is big enough to feel sporty but it still fits easily under a jacket sleeve (though I wish it were a millimeter or so thinner). The color scheme does make it feel a little less like an everyday watch than the usual black and white, so unless you're ok embracing the always-navy lifestyle this might serve you better as a second or third watch rather than a first. 

Some of Omega's tribute watches are straight recreations, while others get a little more creative. The Speedmaster CK2998 is definitely the latter and an excellent example of how to start with something people know and create something new from the archetype while still showing respect for what made the original special in the first place. It might be tough to get your hands on one, but if you're looking for a modern Speedy and think you can make friends with someone at your local Omega dealer, the CK2998 is one of the better choices you could make today.

The Omega Speedmaster CK2998 is a limited edition of 2998 pieces and retails for $6,500. For more, visit Omega.

Watch (and space) nerds, rejoice! This one is sure to get any red-blooded Apollo astronaut wannabe excited. Late last night, around midnight EST, Mr. Buzz Aldrin, the second human being to step onto the lunar surface, tweeted that he is designing a new watch for Omega. And this watch will go to Mars!

Now this story is thrilling on a variety of levels: It means that we may have a next-generation Speedmaster in the near future. It means that this watch will be at least in some way designed by a living legend. And, finally, it means that Aldrin genuinely believes that mankind will make it to Mars in the not too distant future! Aldrin's tweet featured the hashtag #GYATM, which, after a little digging, I found out translates to "Get Your Ass To Mars."

Very few details are decipherable from the two photos Aldrin posted of himself and his sketches. One image features Aldrin with a high-ranking Omega official, lending legitimacy to the idea that Omega may have contracted the Apollo 11 astronaut to provide guidance on this tool for the next generation of Martian explorers.

We have already contacted Omega for more information on this Aldrin-designed Mars watch, and you can be sure we'll have more on this one soon. In the mean time, just sit back and let your imagination run wild with the idea of what an Omega Speedmaster Mars Watch could look like, especially one designed by Mr. Buzz Aldrin himself.

Follow Buzz Aldrin on Twitter here. 

If you live in New York City or any similarly-sweltering place devoid of a good beach or anywhere with a real breeze, you likely spent the weekend sitting inside your home with the air condition blasting, cold drink in hand, and the Olympics on TV. I did. One of the highlights was Wayde van Niekerk winning gold and setting a new world record in the men's 400m sprint. Even better: he did it with a Richard Mille on his wrist.

Niekerk ran the race in just 43.03 seconds, breaking the previous world record set by Michael Johnson back in 1999 by .15 seconds. That doesn't sound like a lot, but in the sprinting world it's significant. This remarkable time won Niekerk the gold and not a small amount of glory back home in South Africa. As if getting the fastest time wasn't enough, Niekerk had to have the most aggressive watch in the Olympic Stadium, a Richard Mille 27-02.  

You may recognize the RM27-02 from Rafael Nadal's wrist during last year's French Open. The Richard Mille 27-02 features a manually-wound movement with a tourbillon and weighs an astounding 4.6 grams. This is an evolution of the RM 27-01 that we spotted Nadal wearing as he won the US Open in 2014. It is unusual for athletes to wear watches, especially when they are trying to run as fast as they possibly can, Richard Mille has made producing watches that are not only efficient time-keepers but also incredibly light a clear priority. Yohan Blake wore a prototype Richard Mille when he won silver in the 100m at the 2012 Olympics that would later go on to become the totally bonkers RM 59-01.

For more information on Richard Mille, visit their website here.

Top Photo: Matt Slocum/AP

Earlier this year, Glashütte Original introduced its new Senator Excellence watch and Caliber 36 movement. HODINKEE’s European Editor, Arthur Touchot, wore the watch for the first 100 hours of Baselworld and reported on its increased autonomy, silicon hairspring, and innovative movement fastening system. There is one other new feature that Arthur didn’t get a chance to take a look at – Glashütte Original is including a quality promise for the Caliber 36, with standards exceeding COSC chronometer certification.

"Chronometer" historically, referred to a particularly accurate watch or clock – often, one which used a detent escapement. Today, the term "chronometer" is defined by ISO 3159, which forms the basis of the standards used by  Switzerland’s Controle Officiel Suisse des Chronomètres (COSC). COSC certifies chronometers for Rolex, Breitling, and Panerai to name just a few brands. While COSC is certainly a prominent testing agency, there are others too. The Federal Institute of Metrology (METAS) in Switzerland has recently begun testing watches, with Omega moving its chronometer testing there from COSC. In Germany, Wempe tests and certifies chronometers at the Glashütte Observatory, under DIN 8319, which uses the same criteria as those found in ISO 3159.

Even with the existing testing agencies available to certify their watches, there is a trend of brands making their own seals, promises, or guarantees instead. Some argue that these results cannot be relied on as much as those coming from neutral testing agency – and I agree. Possibly with that in mind, Glashütte Original chose to make its quality promise standards exceed what COSC specifies. Additionally, the Senator Excellence is not marketed as a chronometer, even though it certainly could be based on its performance standards (though again, to use the term "chronometer" for a German-made watch would require testing by an external agency). Looking at Glashütte Original’s quality promise, I can see that it notably exceeds COSC’s chronometer standards in two categories: positions tested and average daily rate.

Positions tested

COSC: 5

Glashütte Original: 6

Average daily rate

COSC: -4 / +6 seconds over ten days

Glashütte Original: -4 / +6 seconds over twelve days

Mean variation in rates

COSC: 2 seconds per day

Glashütte Original: 2 seconds per day

Greatest variation in rates

COSC: 5 seconds

Glashütte Original: 5 seconds

Difference between rates in horizontal and vertical positions

COSC: -6 / +8 seconds

Glashütte Original: -6 / +8 seconds

Largest variation in rates

COSC: 10 seconds

Glashütte Original: 10 seconds

This is an impressive testing regime for any watch, and I was interested to test the watch first hand to see what the results would be. While I did not test the rate over twelve days (as Glashütte Original did) the results I saw in one afternoon testing with Witschi and Vibrograf timing machines were remarkable. The results matched almost exactly what Glashütte Original specified in the rate card supplied with the watch. The Senator Excellence is an extraordinarily accurate mechanical watch, representing a significant upgrade to the brand’s popular Senator line.

The Glashütte Original Senator Excellence in stainless steel with silver dial is available now with a retail price of $9,700. For more information, visit Glashütte Original.

Almost from the moment Breguet invented the tourbillon (for which he was granted a patent in 1801), people have been wondering whether or not it actually does what it's supposed to do. The basic idea is simple. If you put the balance spring, balance, lever, and escape wheel inside a carriage, or cage, that rotates in the plane of the movement plate, you get one average rate for the four vertical positions in which a watch is timed, rather than four different rates. You then adjust the two horizontal positions to match this single average vertical rate and, in theory, you should have a perfect timekeeper.

There are some pretty strong differences of opinion about whether or not a tourbillon offers any actual advantages over a conventional watch, but in the case of wristwatches, it seems clear that any such advantages would be less pronounced.  A watch worn on the wrist assumes a number of different positions over the course of a day (as opposed to a pocket watch, which is more or less vertical in the pocket during the day and flat at night). Tourbillon wristwatches were first made in the late 1930s and 1940s, by Lip, Patek Philippe, and Omega, and while in many cases they did well in observatory competitions, it was the theoretical improvements that are offered by multi-axis tourbillons that spurred Anthony Randall to develop the first double-axis tourbillon in the 1970s.  

Jaeger-LeCoultre's first wristwatch tourbillon was introduced in 1993 (though JLC had produced tourbillons prior to that, including the famous observatory competition caliber 170) and in 2004 the company introduced the Gyrotourbillon I. Gyrotourbillon I is a double-axis tourbillon with a perpetual calendar and equation of time, and since then, Jaeger-LeCoultre has gone on to produce several variations on the multi-axis tourbillon theme. In general, however, these have been fairly thick watches (Gyrotourbillon I is 16mm thick) but with the Reverso Tribute Gyrotourbillon, JLC has produced a thinner and much more wearable version of its multi-axis tourbillon. At 51.1mm x 31mm x 12.4mm it's still not a small watch, but it is very comfortable on the wrist and certainly easier to wear than some of its predecessors.

As a Reverso, the Tribute Gyrotourbillon has the family's signature reversible case; the section of the case carrier directly behind the tourbillon cage has a mirror polish to better highlight the cage itself.

The Tribute Gyrotourbillon shows the time in two time zones and there's an AM/PM indication at 11 o'clock.

The watch has a hemispherical balance spring, as well as Jaeger-LeCoultre's two-armed Gyrolab balance.

The bridges on the back side have been open-worked and it's a great, rather ornate contrast to the more subdued aesthetics of the front side of the watch. With respect to the hemispherical balance spring, this is inherited from the marine chronometer tradition, where, along with cylindrical balance springs, they were experimented with as a way of improving on the isochronism offered by a Breguet/Philips overcoil. Generally marine chronometer makers seem to have discovered that the game was not worth the candle (which is the opinion some people have of the tourbillon itself, for that matter) but it looks terrific. I should mention also that Jaeger-LeCoultre says that while it's at the cost of considerably greater complexity, and a great deal more trouble in adjustment, that they do see improved isochronism in their two axis tourbillons, so while these may be an exercise in very labor-intensive performance improvements, they shouldn't be dismissed as exclusively cosmetic.

We didn't have this little number in the office nearly long enough for a Week On The Wrist, but I did wear it while I could, and it's pretty spectacular. The visuals are stunning and if you have any susceptibility to finding complicated little mechanisms enthralling, you'd probably find the Tribute Gyrotourbillon as irresistible as I did. The fact that it's actually quite comfortable on the wrist is, to a certain extent, icing on the cake, but it also means that if you were inclined to do so, you could actually wear it long enough to see if the multi-axis tourbillon works like it's supposed to (albeit with a sample size of one and no real way of setting up a relevant control group).  

All in all, the Reverso Tribute Gyrotourbillon is a drop-dead gorgeous high complication, whose visual effects and tactility can't really be found elsewhere.  

The Reverso Tribute Gyrotourbillon is a limited edition of just 75 pieces in platinum with a retail price of €270,000 (approximately $302,000 at time of publishing). More info from Jaeger-LeCoultre is right here.  

There is nothing like one hyper-niche product trying to tie itself to another slightly less but still insanely niche product. We've seen it far too many times – the Hublot La Ferrari watch, the Bremont Boeings, all those Breitling for Bentley watches. I get why watch brands do it, and in most cases I am fairly agnostic about it. The Hublot La Ferrari watch, while not anything I would ever consider for myself (even if I owned a La Ferrari), made sense. It was cutting-edge, high-tech, and over-the-top. I could easily see how it belonged next to the mightiest car ever made by the winningest racecar producer in history. This watch, which showed up in my inbox today, is puzzling, and for more than one reason. Before I show you the watch, let's look at the car that inspired it.

This is the DB4 Zagato, a rare variant of the well-known Aston Martin that was given to the well-known Milanese coachbuilder for special bodywork. The car is all aluminum, features painfully beautiful lines, has over 300 horsepower (a ton for the period), and was made in a series of just 19 cars (many of which even saw the race track). The last time a DB4 Zagato came up for sale publicly, it sold for $14.3 million. The DB4Z is truly an icon in the world of collectible automobiles, and its body-work the inspiration for countless vehicles since. This car is raw, emotional, and special. Some consider it one of the most beautiful automobiles ever designed, and I include myself in that camp – hell, I have a 408 page, 17 lbs book dedicated solely to the Aston Martin DB4 Zagato next to my desk at this very moment. This car is that special.

And today, I received a press released from Christopher Ward, a fine-enough British watchmaker, announcing a model dubbed the "C9 DB4 1 VEV," supposedly inspired by the DB4 Zagato.

The 43mm ETA-powered watch features a dial inspired by the gauges of the DB4Z – ok, sure. On the rear of the watch, there is a piece of aluminum taken from an original DB4 Zagato body panel inlaid into the back-plate, in the shape of an Aston steering wheel no less. On the caseback, you see "DB4 GT Zagato -1 VEV-" and an engine number engraved, along with a limited edition number out of 19.

The watch costs £3,995 (approximately $5,200 at time of publishing), and is available for pre-order right now. But let's dissect this product a little bit. You take one of the most beautiful, special, and emotional vehicles ever created as inspiration, and this is the watch that comes of it? Put aside the relative disparity between an eight-figure car and a four-figure watch, and just look at the actual design and nuances of each product. They do not speak to you in the same way, do they?

Second, what is fascinating about this offering is the prominent placement of "1 VEV" everywhere on the watch (and in the press materials). The 1 VEV is a singular example of the DB4 Zagato, and it's actually the car's original license plate. It was completed on June 9, 1961, in aqua verde caliente over light fawn hide. Its original owner was John Ogier of Essex Racing Stable, and he received a 20% discount on this car and its brother "2 VEV." The car has been extensively restored, likely how Christopher Ward was able to obtain some of the aluminum from the body for these watches. What's more, the car likely does not feature an original engine plate, meaning it no longer has that unique engine number. Yet, the engine number is engraved on the back of the watch. Hmm.

Finally, notice how there is not a mention of Aston Martin on the watch itself? It really makes me curious how this watch came to be, and what level of involvement, if any, Aston Martin had in it. Why would they make an homage to such an important Aston Martin and not include the name of the vehicle's manufacter on the piece itself? Furthermore, why limit the ties to just one of the 19 DB4 Zagatos produced? It's all very peculiar to my eye.

As I said before, only 19 of these watches will be made, so it's not a wildly profitable venture no matter how you look at it. What I imagine Christopher Ward's thinking was with this watch is that the 19 owners of these 10-million-dollar (plus) cars would be encouraged to buy this watch, thereby getting Christopher Ward watches on some obviously well-to-do lovers of cars and watches. It makes sense, surely. Or does it? The watch doesn't appeal to me, but I was curious if someone who owned a real DB4 Zagato would be drawn to this watch simply as a novelty or fun addition to an already amazing car. Luckily, my friend Peter owns a DB4 Zagato, so I asked him.

I think it's idiotic when people take something classic and special and attach it to something that's not just in order to create a sense of collectibility. I will not be buying one of these watches.

Now, Peter is the only owner I know of such a car, so it could be the other 18 folks are a little less critical. But something tells me that's not the case. Again, I understand the desire to have your watch on the wrists of these connoisseurs of automotive history, but if you are going to declare an association with such a rich, storied, emotional product, does it not make sense to offer the same values in your watch?

I don't mean to pick on Christopher Ward, and they are certainly not the only offenders in this area – it just so happened that this press release crossed my desk on a day I had time to write about it and it referenced a topic about which I have some understanding in the DB4. But I think this is something that's worth exploring more. So, consider this the first installment in a regular series in which I look at these tenuous claims of authenticity put forth by watch brands. Stay tuned for more.

One of the biggest announcements of Baselworld 2013 came from an unlikely entity: Swatch. The plastic watch-fueled behemoth debuted the Sistem51, a $150 watch made in Switzerland with a 51-component movement made entirely by machines, mostly out of plastic. It was an instant hit with high-end collectors and new watch lovers alike. And now it’s available in steel.

The core of the Sistem51 is the movement. It’s comprised of just 51 parts, grouped in five modules, all anchored by a single central screw. It’s truly Swiss-made and everything is shaped, finished, assembled, and regulated entirely by machines. This is the first automatic caliber in the history of timekeeping that isn’t touched by a single human hand during creation. It’s sealed in the watch and can’t be serviced, so long term it’s essentially disposable.

Not to brag, but we were the very first publication in the world to go hands-on with the Sistem51, getting a prototype off a Swatch executive’s wrist at Baselworld 2013. Ok, totally bragging. But it’s a little hard to overstate just how exciting it was back then to see a giant company like Swatch invest seriously in mechanical watchmaking and the proposition that mechanical watches could be a mass-market business. The watches themselves are fun (I own one and still wear it regularly), but it was what the Sistem51 said about the state and future of the watch industry that really mattered.

Since then, Swatch has introduced new seasonal colors, expanding on the original four watch collection. Because the dials and movements both feature printable surfaces, Swatch can easily create new designs. Other than cosmetic changes though, a Sistem51 you’d buy today is exactly the same watch as what I first strapped on three and a half years ago. Today’s announcement of the Sistem51 Irony collection is the line’s first serious update.

The most important change is the case material: instead of the molded, sometimes translucent plastic, the Irony watches have stainless steel cases. The original Sistem51s were clearly novelty or weekend watches, while these new additions are a clear play at getting customers to consider these as everyday, office-appropriate options.

Other than the steel cases (including one two-tone option with some rose gold–colored accents), there are also a bunch of new dial options that more closely resemble traditional watch designs. Most of them are pretty handsome too, save the strange Illuminati-looking number with criss-crossing lines and an excess of numerals. In particular, the two-tone silver dial and the traditional pilot’s dial caught my eye immediately. If you’re a vintage lover looking for a new beater, these might do the trick.

To be honest, I have mixed feelings about the idea of a steel Sistem51. Sure, there are times you don’t want a plastic ticker strapped to your wrist, but there was something about the simple, no-frills construction that grounded the Sistem51 for me. It’s also a bummer that the Sistem51 Irony watches all use Swatch’s proprietary lug system (four lugs on the watch, three tangs on the strap), meaning you can’t use any third-party straps. Considering the leather options on these watches don’t look great, that could be a deal-breaker. Sure, there’s the steel bracelet, but that’s pretty limiting.

My instinct is that part of the Sistem51’s charm will be a little lost when dressed up in a metal case, but I’ll hold the final verdict until I can see one in the metal (it does feel nice not to say “in the plastic” here). At the very least, I’m excited to see Swatch growing and evolving the Sistem51 platform and I’m looking forward to seeing more iterations over the years. We’ll have more for you on this soon.

The Sistem51 Irony collection will go on sale in the United States on September 9, with prices ranging from $195 for the watches on straps to $235 for the two-tone model with a bracelet. For more information, visit Swatch online. 

This week, we are trying something new. We are taking a break from our regularly scheduled broadcast of vintage wristwatches to bring you a special selection of rare finds. You may remember the rare finds section of the HODINKEE Shop from when we launched it back in March. Well, today my friends, we have some really cool and fresh objects for you to shop, including vintage lighters, sterling silver flasks, and unusual travel clocks. Take a closer look. 

1970s S.T. Dupont Black Lacquer Lighter

S.T. Dupont is one of the most well-known lighter producers in the world. Based in Paris and founded in 1872, Dupont didn't start making lighters until after 1914. The example we have here is black clad in black lacquer with gold tipping. It works perfectly and has the familiar clinking sound associated with these lighters. Click here for the full listing. 

1920s Audemars Piguet White Gold Jumping Hour Pocket Watch

Next we have this incredible Audemars Piguet jumping hour pocket watch in white gold. Not only is this watch beautiful (and fun!), but we were also able to get our friends at Audemars Piguet to check their archives: They confirmed that this watch was made in 1924 and sold in 1927 to Metric, a New York–based retailer. For the full listing, click here. 

1930s Hermès And Movado 'Ermeto' 8-Day Travel Desk Timepiece With Alarm

This 8-day travel desk timepiece with alarm, aka the "Ermeto", contains a movement made by Movado and was retailed by famed luxury maison Hermès. The sliding case is covered in black crocodile skin and the watch itself features a beautiful silvered dial. You can set the alarm on the hour, half-hour, or quarter-hour making it an ideal travel companion. Click here for the full listing. 

But Wait, There's More!

We have six other rare finds for you to discover, including a 1970s Cartier Santos Lighter, a 1960s Christian Dior silver-plated flask, a 1930s Macassar ebony and silver-plated cigarette box, a 1940s Longines single-button chronograph pocket watch, a 1960s Citrine-colored glass bowl, 1970s Dupont and Hermès silver lighter, a 1970s French leather tray, and a 1930s Vacheron Constantin steel pocket watch with a sector dial. 

Click here to see the entire collection. 

About a month ago, the people behind the wonderful non-profit Fashion Fights Cancer reached out and asked me if I would be willing to have dinner with one person, any person, that wanted to have dinner with me. Now I was familiar with all the work that this great 501(c)(3) does using ties with fashion, luxury, and media to support research related to cancer in the New York area, so naturally I was thrilled to participate.

How does this work? You bid on a private dinner for you, a friend, and me, to take place in New York any time over the next calendar year. We talk about whatever you want, I buy you dinner, and 100% of the money you bid goes to charity. What will your donation support? Well FFC provides cancer patients and survivors various forms of art therapy to help patients throughout treatment and recovery, a noble cause if there ever was one.

So if you think you might enjoy a meal with me, and feel like doing some good at the same time, now is your chance.

You can read more about Fashion Fights Cancer here and bid on dinner with yours truly here.