Everyone has a guilty pleasure watch. If you think you don't, you're lying to yourself (or maybe just to others). Whether it's something that's outside your usual comfort zone, something that's a little louder than you might like, or even just something far outside your budget, there's always that timekeeper that you can't help but search for on Instagram, or drop into a retailer to try on when you see it in the window. Here are our editors' top guilty pleasure picks from the 2018 debuts – a few of them will likely surprise you.
Cara Barrett – Cartier Révélation d'Une Panthère
I still haven’t forgotten the Cartier Révélation d’Une Panthère from SIHH earlier this year. This watch is completely unnecessary and the ultimate luxury accessory (which seems to be a running theme in my life these days), hence it being my guilty pleasure. I could watch the little gold beads fall through the patented liquid system for hours on end. This watch shows that Cartier is able to produce both elegant everyday watches like the Santos, and beautiful artistic pieces such as this. Who needs to read the time when you have this puppy on your wrist?
Jacob & Co.'s Twin Turbo Furious is quite possibly the single craziest watch I've ever seen in my life. And I have to admit that wearing one for a while would be a guilty pleasure. Cased in black carbon fiber and DLC titanium, it's a 57mm x 52mm twin triple-axis tourbillon with decimal repeater and chronograph. Naturally, the focal point of this watch on the wrist is its two tourbillon mechanisms. Their alternating herky-jerky pulsations call to mind a wild, rhythmic, and indeed furious dance performed with reckless abandon. The design is not going to be for everyone, but there's really no denying that this is an incredibly complex mechanism.
Jack Forster – Grand Seiko Hi-Beat 36000 VFA SBGH265
The Grand Seiko Hi-Beat VFA is exactly what an awful lot of us – even and especially those of us who consider ourselves Grand Seiko fans – would probably say we absolutely do not want from Grand Seiko. It’s a veritable litany of Grand Seiko loyalist don'ts: extremely limited edition (20 pieces), extremely precious metal (platinum), and as if that weren’t sufficiently out of character for Grand Seiko, extremely expensive ($53,000). However, you can’t very well have a guilty pleasure without guilt, and you can’t have one without pleasure either, and there is something about the way this watch throws modesty to the winds and goes straight for the jugular, luxury-wise, that's irresistible. Besides, as Blaise Pascal once wrote, "the heart has its reasons whereof reason knows nothing."
A blacked-out, carbon-cased, third-party collaboration tribute to one of the most famous and recognizable motorsports watches of all time? Sounds like a guilty pleasure to me. While at a conceptual level any fan of vintage Heuer might wince a bit at the mention of the TAG Heuer Monaco Bamford, like Jack, I dig it. Light and impressive on wrist, the Monaco Bamford's carbon case ads a welcome strangeness into the Monaco genealogy. The case shape and its 39mm sizing remain unchanged and Bamford has balanced the predominantly black form with a strong use of aqua blue for the markers and hands. While certainly a bold use of color, the carbon case feels both recognizable and rather motorsport-appropriate, and the Bamford-spec retains the Monaco's characteristic nine o'clock crown. It's sporty, special, and decidedly distinct from any other Monaco while preserving much of the original form. I would totally wear it.
Stephen Pulvirent – Hublot Sapphire Big Bang Tourbillon Power Reserve 5 Days
Sometimes it's healthy to break out of your usual mold. For me, the usual is small, time-only watches that tend not to get too much attention (except from those who know, of course). But this guy? There's no way it's not getting noticed. And by, like, everyone. There's something so contrarian about making a tourbillon like this and Hublot has executed it extremely well, with the finishing and architecture both coming through. The Big Bang Tourbillon Power Reserve 5 Days Sapphire might not be an everyday watch for me, but I can't help but love it.
The history of time zones is one of those things that's far more fascinating than you'd think. They're a product of industrialization and globalization, and are actually a relatively recent invention. Some time zones in fact are still in flux. Case in point: North Korea will be changing its time zone by 30 minutes for the second time in the last half-decade. Why, you might ask, is one of the world's most-talked-about countries concerned with turning its clocks forward half an hour when bigger things seem to be pressing? Politics, of course.
If you go back to 1912, when the Japanese occupied the Korean Peninsula, the invaders moved all the clocks forward 30 minutes to sync up with those back home in Tokyo. Over the ensuing 106 years, both South Korea and North Korea have altered their clocks multiple times in efforts either to distance themselves from Japan or to make trade with Japan easier. The latest move from North Korea will, importantly, put it back on the same time zone as its neighbor to the south, coinciding nicely with the recent peace talks.
This isn't the only time countries have done things like this, and there are quite a few unusual stories to be told.
Each week our editors gather their favorite finds from around the internet and recommend them to you right here. These are not articles about watches, but rather outstanding examples of journalism and storytelling covering topics from fashion and art to technology and travel. So go ahead, pour yourself a cup of coffee, put your feet up, and settle in.
A pair of mountaineering boots that summited Everest in 1963; fins that Sylvia Earle wore when she walked the ocean floor in 1980; sandals that made a 2,000-mile journey through African jungle. What do these have in common? Well, they were all donated to the National Geographic Society – and apparently fared better than some of the feet that occupied them.
On the eve of the film's 50th anniversary, Vox has produced a look at the music that helped shape Kubrick's incredible 2001: A Space Odyssey. Inspired by a recent episode of the I Think You're Interesting podcast, the musical backstory of 2001 is as convoluted and fraught as you might expect for a big budget sci-fi project – it's a fascinating layer in the creation of a hugely influential movie.
Brittany Nicole Cox has carved out a most unusual professional niche. She's one of the very few individuals who can repair highly complicated antique clocks and watches – and she has deep knowledge about automatons as well. If you missed her recent lecture at HSNY, this is a chance to find out more about the challenges and rewards of bringing these fiendishly complex machines back to life.
Today, NASA will launch its InSight Mars lander into space, commencing a six-month journey to the martian surface. In this wonderful augmented reality piece, the New York Times shows us what previous NASA missions have discovered on Mars, as well as what InSight, which is equipped to look deep under the surface of the red planet, hopes to find.
Picasso’s art was never meant to please. He avoided commissions, instead painting what he wanted and expecting people to be interested. So why do we find it so compelling? Nat Geo digs into a new series about the genius of Picasso and the vast creative influence he left behind.
Each weekend we're going to bring you a classic HODINKEE story from the archives. Whether it's a story you've already read that deserves another look or a hidden gem that you missed the first time around, we think you're going to enjoy it.
You may have seen that earlier this week a very special Patek Philippe ref. 2526 sold for $642,500 at Heritage Auctions, setting the all-time record for this model. Sure, this one was a probably unique version combining a platinum case with a Tiffany-signed enamel dial and a period-correct platinum bracelet, but the 2526 has become an increasingly hot watch over the last year or two. It's not hard to see why either: It's beautifully designed, clean as can be, and marks some important milestones in the history of Patek Phillipe.
In May 2016, our own Ben Clymer was already obsessed with the 2526, and did more than his fair share of research into the important reference, digging through the history, looking at how the watch was made, and scoping out the state of the market. Prices might have rocketed up since, but the watch itself hasn't changed one bit and Ben's in-depth look at the 2526 should tell you everything you need to know to understand why collectors were watching this week's sale so closely.
Bovet has just announced one of the most complicated and elaborate watches it's ever made, and it's also one of the most complex watches we've seen thus far this year. A combination tourbillon, perpetual calendar, and tellurium, the Récital 22 Grand Récital, in its complexity and artistry, represents the summary of one man's obsessions in watchmaking and in watch design.
Initial Thoughts
Pascal Raffy is one of the few individuals in modern watchmaking who is in a position, as owner of a single brand, to more or less do what he wants, and this is Raffy at his idiosyncratic best. The Récital 22 Grand Récital (and no, that's not a typo, the watch is so nice they Recital'd it twice) is a watch that it's impossible to imagine coming from anyone else. The design is classic Bovet: unapologetically ornate, reveling in its own complexity, and in its combination of generally baroque sensibility and high complexity, looking like something that wouldn't have been out of place on the main navigation control panel of Captain Nemo's Nautilus. The comparison is apropos in more ways than one; like Nemo, Raffy has preferred to remain somewhat reclusive, and his watches – at least in the more well-traveled parts of the watch-spotting world – are as elusive as the submarine of Jules Verne's pirate-scientist.
It's the sort of watch whose size tends to make watch writers reflexively haul out the word "beast," but despite its size (46.30mm x 19.60mm) the first impression one has is not of massiveness, but rather, of an overwhelming visual intricacy. Functionally, there is a great deal going on here. The watch is constructed around a tellurium – that's a type of astronomical model that shows the relative positions of the Sun, Moon, and Earth, with the display centered on the Earth. By convention, the view of the Earth is usually from a vantage point above the North Pole. The hemisphere representing the Earth rotates once every 24 hours; at local noon, the Earth's axis, the owner's location, the number 12, and the tourbillon cage representing the Sun are aligned (hours are indicated by a fixed pointer at 6:00 on the Earth). A spherical representation of the Moon orbits the Earth in one synodic month (29.53 days) and the moonphase indication can be read off the moonphase ring encircling the Earth-Moon display (the phase adjacent to the Moon on the ring, shows the moonphase; the display is accurate to one day's error in 122 years, which has become something of a standard for precision in modern high-end moonphase watches).
To the right is a retrograde power reserve indication, and to the left, a retrograde minutes display. There's a semicircular, partial seconds track adjacent to the one minute tourbillon cage, and below the retrograde minutes arc is a magnifying glass, allowing you to read the date.
Even the back of the Récital 22 Grand Récital is more complex than the dial side of many complicated watches.
The back has a full perpetual calendar display – there are indications for the day of the week, the month, and the date, which is displayed on a moving retrograde disk (which is controlled by a rack system for which Bovet has a patent pending; there are a total of five patents pending for various elements of the Récital 22 Grand Récital). There is also a Leap Year indication, and an hour of the day indication. The back of the movement (caliber 17DM03-TEL; the TEL stands for tellurium) is engraved with the words, "Pour servir ponctuels gentilshommes," (to serve a punctual gentleman) and "Faictes de mains de maistres," (made by masterful hands). A final line of text reads, "Ce par quoy attestons longue valeur," – "and thus (we) attest long-lasting value."
All of the indications can be re-set, if necessary, by a pusher at 12:00 on the case, which simultaneously advances the Moon, Earth, date, and day of the week one day per push.
The Earth hemisphere is quite a production – there's the hand-painted representation of the Earth itself, of course, but there are also several layers of transparent laquer, and then painted clouds, which appear to float above the Earth's surface thanks to the clear coats in between. Luminous material has also been mixed with the pigments, so the whole thing glows in the dark, and the side of the Moon that faces the Sun has gotten the lume treatment as well (as have the words, "Grand Recital" on the very unlikely chance that you might forget what watch you're looking at in the dark).
This is a limited edition – no surprises there, given it's such a complex and labor-intensive watch; a total of sixty will be made, and they're available in either 18k red or white gold, or platinum. This sort of over-the-top and highly personal design, combined with great mechanical complexity, is quite a bit rarer in contemporary watchmaking than it used to be and while of course this is a niche-market product in every way imaginable, it's still quite a breath of fresh air. A rare animal – like a white Siberian tiger, something virtually none of us will ever possess, but also something we can be glad is out there.
The Basics
Brand: Bovet Model: Récital 22 Grand Récital
Diameter: 46.30mm Thickness: 19.60mm Case Material: 18k white or red gold, or platinum Lume: like you wouldn't believe Water Resistance: Not available, but let's face it, if you're swimming with this on you ought to have your head examined Strap/Bracelet: full grain alligator
The Movement
Caliber: 17DM03-TEL Functions: perpetual calendar with retrograde disk; world time via tellurium display; partial seconds arc with one minute flying tourbillon; retrograde minute and power reserve displays Power Reserve: 9 days Winding: manual Frequency: 18,000 vph Additional Details: 5 patents pending, including one for the rack mechanism for the perpetual date disk.
Pricing & Availability
Price: Red or white gold, $469,800; platinum, $502,200. Availability: Made to order; custom engraving options available as well Limited Edition: yes, 60 watches total world wide.
For more info on the Récital 22 Grand Récital, visit Bovet.com.
First things first: The watch to buy in the upcoming Phillips Daytona Ultimatum sale is John Goldberger's white gold 6265. It's the coolest, most understated Rolex in the world, and since it was unveiled in my presence in November 2013, I have hoped one day I would be able to purchase it. I'm not – opening bids begin at $3 million – but I can say this is just about the end game for me. That aside, there are 31 other fantastic and rare Daytonas from which to choose, and my old pal Stephen has given you a run-down of the seven-figure pieces here. My thoughts in this story aren't defined by price though, but rather by my own thoughts on the Daytona and the future of the collectible watch world.
The 6269 Daytona is a hyper rare reference and its value is not driven by a dial alone. The estimate is 400,000 to 800,000 CHF.
This Daytona was given to David Brabham, winner of the Rolex 24 of Le Mans in 2009,, and it features an estimate of 50,000 to 100,000 CHF.
First, there are some incredibly rare watches in this sale: the Alpina, the "Neanderthal," the 6263 with Arabic dial. But these aren't the watches I would look at if I were in the market for a new old Daytona. These are remarkably rare, no doubt, but are they too rare? What I mean is that so little is known about these watches, it's a bit daunting. I in no way am casting doubt upon them, because the Phillips team is for sure the best in the business – and one must remember that they have a team of advisors including people I trust inherently, such as Paul Boutros (as an employee) and John Goldberger and Jason Singer (as advisors) – who bless each sale. And as we all know, if Goldberger says it's good, it's good. Instead of the hyper-rare pieces in Ultimatum though, I'd instead consider the rock solid and indisputably perfect and correct watches. For example, the 6269 and LeMans presented automatic are two watches that are just insanely cool and special, and the value is not driven solely by a dial, as is the case with some other watches in this sale.
I think the greatest opportunity in the Ultimatum sale is to purchase what can be described as totally correct, world-class examples of very rare, but not hyper-rare special Daytonas. What I mean here is that Aurel Bacs and Co. chose just 32 watches for this sale, and I know for a fact that they legitimately turned down hundreds of Daytonas to end up with these pieces. I know this because I know people who thought they had the world's best example of a particular Daytona, only to be told by Phillips they already had one a bit cleaner or a bit better. I've had the chance to look at these watches in the metal, and some are great, while others are spectacular. The pieces I've chosen below are nothing more than my own personal picks from the 32 lots – they reflect my own tastes, which are admittedly pretty nerdy, even when it comes to the Daytona – so take it or leave it.
An Early Reference 6239 Double-Swiss Underline In Great Shape (Lot 23)
Call me basic, but I'm nothing if not consistent (yes, I was wearing super soft sweaters in high school) and I've been extolling the virtues of early Daytonas for at least half a decade. I wrote this this look at the first series Daytona in June 2013 when I was in hot pursuit of my own example, and my love for these early Double-Swiss 6239s hasn't died. Actually, I've been talking about these since 2009! These watches, which were at the time labeled "LeMans," represent the true beginnings of the Daytona. And they have countless special traits that differentiate them even from the watches that were made just one year later in 1964. The hour and minute hands are long and thin, the bezel is marked to 300 with a 275 hash, and of course the dial is signed "Swiss" twice. This watch is an "underline" example of the double Swiss 6239, which puts it correctly in the 923xxx serial range. In full disclosure, I actually sold my black double-Swiss underline 6239 a while back and now prefer the earlier examples sans-underline, but I'm a weirdo. This watch is a full-spec example in great shape, and you seldom see these early Daytonas with full lume plots.
Sales for these are all over the place, from the low $70k range for weak examples to the mid $100k range for the strong examples. Of course, Phillips sold a white dial with tropical sub-registers in 2016 for CHF 310,000. Where do I think this one should go? Considering how special and important – and well researched and documented – these are, this is one worth paying for. More here.
A Completely Normal But Mint 6263 'Big Red' With Full Set (Lot 22)
I've owned a bunch of Daytonas in my watch collecting career, but one I've just never been drawn to is the "Big Red." It's kinda the go-to 6263, and in most cases, it doesn't do that much for me because of that fact. But, when you come across a 6263 in this type of condition with a proper full set, it's hard to ignore. Further, this watch falls into exactly the description of what I think offers the best opportunity in Daytona Ultimatum – you know you're getting a world-class example of a completely recognized iteration of the Daytona. This is a later production Big Red, so with it you'll find the later MK3 pushers (of which I'm not a huge fan, but they are totally correct here), and you have a full set with Rolex warranty and sales tag with matching serial number. You even still have the sticker on the caseback, and the condition of the watch is simply par excellence. I am always critical of dealers who use the term "New Old Stock" too liberally, but in this case, based on what I can tell, it might actually be the case. Still, you should take a look for yourself and make your own call.
What's more, the 6263 is climbing in value as fast as any watch in the world, with full-set examples now trading north of $100,000. This is downright insane considering they were selling in the 30s and 40s within the last four to five years, but such is life. I have no idea what this one will go for, but whoever buys its will have the privilege of knowing they have one of the truly best Big Reds in the world. More here.
A Full-Spec Reference 6240 Daytona Just As It Should Be (Lot 11)
The 6240 is kinda the ultimate screw-down Daytona, at least to me. They feel just like the double-Swiss underlines, because they started an entirely new category (here, the Oyster Daytona) and have so many traits that just aren't found elsewhere. Oh, and did I mention they are rare? Like, insanely rare. Especially in good shape. This example is among the purest I've seen, and it represents everything a 6240 should be. First, the case is super full and honest, the dial has all its lume plots – something you practically never see on a 6240 – you have the thin running seconds hand at nine o'clock, and the dial is a "Small Daytona" that, to me, is the most correct 6240 dial. The hands are correct, as is the bezel, the crown is a super early Oyster crown, and man look at those pushers! The 6240 is all about the pushers, and here you have the hyper-rare and correct brass MK0, or millerighe pushers, in great shape. Pushers like this, on their own, are probably worth $15,000 or more at this point, because nobody who would care enough to know what a 6240 is would buy one without them. Finally, this watch comes with a dated, correct bracelet with 71 end-links, exactly what you'd expect on a bracelet born for a Daytona. This, my friends, is a true connoisseur's Daytona. More here.
A Gold, Porcelain Dial Reference 16528 With Full Set (Lot 9)
While I'm not super into automatic Daytonas as collectibles (as daily wears, you know I love 'em), I do love a good gold Daytona. And there are some insane examples in this sale – this 6239 PN has one of the nicest dials I've seen in a long while, and if this one had bit more reasonable an estimate, I'd be a bidder – but the watch that the conservative collector in me likes is lot number nine.
Yes, that's a gold reference 16528, and what's neat about these early watches is that the dials were made of porcelain. The "Cosmograph" is floating, the watch features an early bezel graduated to 200, and this watch retains all its original bits, including guarantee and caseback sticker, indicating it was sold in Gstaad. Because where else would a gold Daytona be sold in 1988?
You can definitely mark the gold 16528 as one I wish I would've bought years ago, when they were in the $20k range, but this one has an estimate of CHF 50,000 - 100,000. That still feels strong for a self-winding Daytona from the 80s, but this example is one to consider if this is your thing. More here.
First things first: The watch to buy in the upcoming Phillips Daytona Ultimatum sale is John Goldberger's white gold 6265. It's the coolest, most understated Rolex in the world, and since it was unveiled in my presence in November 2013, I have hoped one day I would be able to purchase it. I'm not – opening bids begin at $3 million – but I can say this is just about the end game for me. That aside, there are 31 other fantastic and rare Daytonas from which to choose, and my old pal Stephen has given you a run-down of the seven-figure pieces here. My thoughts in this story aren't defined by price though, but rather by my own thoughts on the Daytona and the future of the collectible watch world.
The 6269 Daytona is a hyper rare reference and its value is not driven by a dial alone. The estimate is 400,000 to 800,000 CHF.
This Daytona was given to David Brabham, winner of the Rolex 24 of Le Mans in 2009,, and it features an estimate of 50,000 to 100,000 CHF.
First, there are some incredibly rare watches in this sale: the Alpina, the "Neanderthal," the 6263 with Arabic dial. But these aren't the watches I would look at if I were in the market for a new old Daytona. These are remarkably rare, no doubt, but are they too rare? What I mean is that so little is known about these watches, it's a bit daunting. I in no way am casting doubt upon them, because the Phillips team is for sure the best in the business – and one must remember that they have a team of advisors including people I trust inherently, such as Paul Boutros (as an employee) and John Goldberger and Jason Singer (as advisors) – who bless each sale. And as we all know, if Goldberger says it's good, it's good. Instead of the hyper-rare pieces in Ultimatum though, I'd instead consider the rock solid and indisputably perfect and correct watches. For example, the 6269 and LeMans presented automatic are two watches that are just insanely cool and special, and the value is not driven solely by a dial, as is the case with some other watches in this sale.
I think the greatest opportunity in the Ultimatum sale is to purchase what can be described as totally correct, world-class examples of very rare, but not hyper-rare special Daytonas. What I mean here is that Aurel Bacs and Co. chose just 32 watches for this sale, and I know for a fact that they legitimately turned down hundreds of Daytonas to end up with these pieces. I know this because I know people who thought they had the world's best example of a particular Daytona, only to be told by Phillips they already had one a bit cleaner or a bit better. I've had the chance to look at these watches in the metal, and some are great, while others are spectacular. The pieces I've chosen below are nothing more than my own personal picks from the 32 lots – they reflect my own tastes, which are admittedly pretty nerdy, even when it comes to the Daytona – so take it or leave it.
An Early Reference 6239 Double-Swiss Underline In Great Shape (Lot 23)
Call me basic, but I'm nothing if not consistent (yes, I was wearing super soft sweaters in high school) and I've been extolling the virtues of early Daytonas for at least half a decade. I wrote this this look at the first series Daytona in June 2013 when I was in hot pursuit of my own example, and my love for these early Double-Swiss 6239s hasn't died. Actually, I've been talking about these since 2009! These watches, which were at the time labeled "LeMans," represent the true beginnings of the Daytona. And they have countless special traits that differentiate them even from the watches that were made just one year later in 1964. The hour and minute hands are long and thin, the bezel is marked to 300 with a 275 hash, and of course the dial is signed "Swiss" twice. This watch is an "underline" example of the double Swiss 6239, which puts it correctly in the 923xxx serial range. In full disclosure, I actually sold my black double-Swiss underline 6239 a while back and now prefer the earlier examples sans-underline, but I'm a weirdo. This watch is a full-spec example in great shape, and you seldom see these early Daytonas with full lume plots.
Sales for these are all over the place, from the low $70k range for weak examples to the mid $100k range for the strong examples. Of course, Phillips sold a white dial with tropical sub-registers in 2016 for CHF 310,000. Where do I think this one should go? Considering how special and important – and well researched and documented – these are, this is one worth paying for. More here.
A Completely Normal But Mint 6263 'Big Red' With Full Set (Lot 22)
I've owned a bunch of Daytonas in my watch collecting career, but one I've just never been drawn to is the "Big Red." It's kinda the go-to 6263, and in most cases, it doesn't do that much for me because of that fact. But, when you come across a 6263 in this type of condition with a proper full set, it's hard to ignore. Further, this watch falls into exactly the description of what I think offers the best opportunity in Daytona Ultimatum – you know you're getting a world-class example of a completely recognized iteration of the Daytona. This is a later production Big Red, so with it you'll find the later MK3 pushers (of which I'm not a huge fan, but they are totally correct here), and you have a full set with Rolex warranty and sales tag with matching serial number. You even still have the sticker on the caseback, and the condition of the watch is simply par excellence. I am always critical of dealers who use the term "New Old Stock" too liberally, but in this case, based on what I can tell, it might actually be the case. Still, you should take a look for yourself and make your own call.
What's more, the 6263 is climbing in value as fast as any watch in the world, with full-set examples now trading north of $100,000. This is downright insane considering they were selling in the 30s and 40s within the last four to five years, but such is life. I have no idea what this one will go for, but whoever buys its will have the privilege of knowing they have one of the truly best Big Reds in the world. More here.
A Full-Spec Reference 6240 Daytona Just As It Should Be (Lot 11)
The 6240 is kinda the ultimate screw-down Daytona, at least to me. They feel just like the double-Swiss underlines, because they started an entirely new category (here, the Oyster Daytona) and have so many traits that just aren't found elsewhere. Oh, and did I mention they are rare? Like, insanely rare. Especially in good shape. This example is among the purest I've seen, and it represents everything a 6240 should be. First, the case is super full and honest, the dial has all its lume plots – something you practically never see on a 6240 – you have the thin running seconds hand at nine o'clock, and the dial is a "Small Daytona" that, to me, is the most correct 6240 dial. The hands are correct, as is the bezel, the crown is a super early Oyster crown, and man look at those pushers! The 6240 is all about the pushers, and here you have the hyper-rare and correct brass MK0, or millerighe pushers, in great shape. Pushers like this, on their own, are probably worth $15,000 or more at this point, because nobody who would care enough to know what a 6240 is would buy one without them. Finally, this watch comes with a dated, correct bracelet with 71 end-links, exactly what you'd expect on a bracelet born for a Daytona. This, my friends, is a true connoisseur's Daytona. More here.
A Gold, Porcelain Dial Reference 16528 With Full Set (Lot 9)
While I'm not super into automatic Daytonas as collectibles (as daily wears, you know I love 'em), I do love a good gold Daytona. And there are some insane examples in this sale – this 6239 PN has one of the nicest dials I've seen in a long while, and if this one had bit more reasonable an estimate, I'd be a bidder – but the watch that the conservative collector in me likes is lot number nine.
Yes, that's a gold reference 16528, and what's neat about these early watches is that the dials were made of porcelain. The "Cosmograph" is floating, the watch features an early bezel graduated to 200, and this watch retains all its original bits, including guarantee and caseback sticker, indicating it was sold in Gstaad. Because where else would a gold Daytona be sold in 1988?
You can definitely mark the gold 16528 as one I wish I would've bought years ago, when they were in the $20k range, but this one has an estimate of CHF 50,000 - 100,000. That still feels strong for a self-winding Daytona from the 80s, but this example is one to consider if this is your thing. More here.
You might not immediately think "India" when talking about major watchmaking hubs, but for a few decades in the latter part of the 20th century, there was in fact a domestic watch industry there. The state-owned Hindustan Machine Tools (HMT) was founded in the 1960s in partnership with Japanese watch giant Citizen and thrived until the late 1980s when demand started to wane. During it heyday though, it produced over 100 million watches, making it one of the world's most prolific watchmakers.
Eventually though, demand did fall off, and the company was forced to close in 2016. Two Indian watch enthusiasts are now trying to bring watchmaking back to their country however, launching their own microbrand, the Bangalore Watch Company, essentially picking up where HMT left off. Their story is one of passion, economics, and quite a bit of hard work. It's equal parts interesting and inspiring.
Auction season can sometimes get a little overwhelming. There's a million-dollar this and a record-setting that, and literally hundreds of watches to sort through in order to differentiate those worth bidding on from those that aren't worth a paddle-raise. There are multiple auction houses, sometimes running multiple sales across multiple days, and it can be tough to keep everything straight. So we thought it would be an interesting challenge to sift through it all, and for our editors to each pick one – yes, just one – watch that they would be bidding on if their finances allowed. The results are, in most cases, true to form, and we think you're going to like our selections.
Cara Barret – Rolex Daytona With 'Patrizzi' Dial, Box, And Papers
Ok, so you are 100,000% most definitely sick of Daytonas? (Me too by the way.) One Daytona that I really love and that doesn't get much airtime is the Patrizzi Dial Daytona – try finding one in Daytona Ultimatum and you'll turn up empty handed. Sotheby's Geneva has a nice one coming up though, and for me this is the ultimate transitional piece. What is a Patrizzi Dial Daytona? It's part of a batch of the reference 16520 that had a black dial with sub-dials that oxidized over time. They have become highly sought after and collectible, and tend to sell for slightly over $20k. This one is estimated "conservatively," so will likely go for well over estimate with its box and papers. That doesn't make it any less interesting or desirable though.
This is the chronograph whose design set the stage for what would become the Breguet Type XX. And this particular watch has quite an interesting story behind it too – it was made in 1952 (two years before the first Type XXs), and it was sold to the Société d'Aviation Louis Breguet, which was run by a descendant of A.L. Breguet himself. The style of hands, the faceted lugs, and the luminous numerals seen here would go on to be seen in the first Type XX watch too. This isn't the only cool Breguet in the upcoming Phillips sale, but it is my favorite of the bunch.
The nice thing about the relative degree of tunnel vision that the auction market has right now, for specific brands and specific models, is that there remains a great deal out there which is drastically undervalued. One of the paradoxes of today’s world of collectors is that there is a shockingly low level of interest in what, historically, has actually defined fine watchmaking. Submitted for your consideration, therefore, is this lovely Vacheron Constantin Ref. 4726, made in 1952 and housing a Vacheron-finished Jaeger-LeCoultre caliber P454/5B (stamped VXN, which indicates a US-export product). One of the great classic mid-century hand wound movements, finished in the great classic Genevan style, and from a craft standpoint outclassing a whole baskeful of PNDs. And it says something about where the market is at in terms of orientation that there isn’t even a picture of the movement, which is where about 90% of the value and interest of this watch resides.
James Stacey – Omega Speedmaster Ref. 145.012-67 SP
I love a racing dial Speedy, and this 145.012-67 SP example being offered by Phillips in their upcoming Geneva Watch Auction: Seven is so cool it hurts. Unlike the Mark II-style racing dials that use a blend of grey, orange, and deep red, this 1968 Speedmaster has a matte black dial with red accents and a wild set of red hands. Equipped with the highly desirable (and Apollo-tested) hand-wound caliber 321, this very rare Speedmaster sits at the intersection of the golden era of space travel and classic motorsports. The incredible dial and hands are believed to be prototypes, which seems rather fitting for a motorsports-inspired spin on a '60s Speedy.
Stephen Pulvirent – Cartier Tortue Minute Repeater
There are quite a few awesome watches up this season that I'd love to own. This platinum 3448, in particular comes to mind, as does this beautiful gold chronometer from Omega. However, at the end of the day, if I had to pick just one watch from the myriad sales taking place in Geneva, it would be this little gem. To think that in 1929, Cartier was making slim, strangely-shaped minute repeaters like this just brings a smile to my face. The level of watchmaking required to create something like this is extremely high, and the design savvy required to make it look this good might be even higher. I haven't seen the watch in the metal yet, but based on the dimensions, I think it would look rather fetching on my wrist. Don't you agree?
Vintage watch collecting has, in many respects, changed beyond all recognition over the last 15 years, led of course by the incredibly high prices now routinely being paid for Rolex Daytonas. At one time it was possible to enter the world of vintage watch collecting and to find genuinely interesting things for under $1,000 – now though, not only has that become essentially impossible, but also there's so much money involved that at the higher end one feels more as if one's watching transactions involving an asset class, rather than watches.
One of the oddest things about what's driving vintage watch collecting is that it seems to focus very much on the strength of certain brand names, and on cosmetics, rather than qualitative differentiation of the objects in question. Now, there is nothing particularly right or wrong in an absolute sense about the prices being paid for Rolex Daytonas and I don't mean especially to pick on PNDs, which are an easy thing over which to wring one's hands if one wants to deplore the passing of The Good Old Days. However, historically, watchmaking has been considered more or less fine based on the quality of workmanship inherent in watch movements, and quality of materials, not on the strength of a brand name per se.
1923 Patek rattrapante chronograph movement (ebauche by Victorin Piguet).
I remember a discussion that took place many years ago on ThePuristS.com (now PuristsPro) in which a guy fairly new to watches, asked an entirely reasonable question, which was (to paraphrase), "What is it, if it's not better accuracy, that differentiates high end watches from more mass-produced consumer products?" The answer, from a moderator who now works full time as a watchmaker, was, "I'll tell you, but you're not going to like the answer: finishing."
Movement finishing is a complicated thing to evaluate, for a lot of reasons. First of all, what it is and how it's done have changed dramatically over the centuries; what we now think of as fine finishing, and the style of movement design with which it's associated, is largely the product of the Swiss-French school of watchmaking of the late 19th century (a fine English pocket watch from the late 19th or early 20th century, for example, presents a distinctly different appearance, in general, than one from Geneva or the Jura). Secondly, what we expect in terms of fine movement finishing has been conditioned by what's visible through display backs, whose near-ubiquity (with some very notable exceptions, especially in Rolex watches) have made an enormous range of various levels of finishing visible. The issue there is the rise of what's been called "display back finishing" – the application of superficially appealing finish only to the parts the consumer can see. And thirdly, educational material on watch movement finishing, especially in English, is very thin on the ground – there is, surprisingly, relatively little material out there on the basic visual language of fine movement finishing, and what to look for.
Patek Philippe caliber CH27-70Q, Lemania 2310 base.
However, the fact remains that it's craft in movement finishing which has been one of the fundamental distinguishing features of fine watchmaking, historically speaking. The various decorative and semi-functional finishing techniques have always been a basic part of what one expected from a better watch, and it is one of the great ironies of watchmaking that when wristwatch movement finishing was at its peak qualitatively, the vast majority of the best work was hidden behind solid casebacks.
Omega caliber 321/Lemania 2310, in an Omega Speedmaster.
The truly weird thing about vintage watch collecting nowadays is that the subject goes largely undiscussed, and the level of interest in this aspect of fine watchmaking does almost nothing to engage collectors' interest or to drive sales at auctions. There is basically zero correlation between it, and the perceived value of a watch. This is in some respects a phenomenon you find in a lot of collecting at the high end – art has long since become at least as much an asset class as something in which collecting is driven by a sense of beauty; wine ditto, where enormous sums are routinely paid for cases that are not only never going to get drunk (or get anyone drunk, which is sad; weep silently within your glass prison, o child of Dionysus) but which have become in many cases, undrinkable.
It may be, therefore, that what's happened to the market for vintage watches is simply a symptom of watch collecting having matured, and beginning to attract the kind of money and attention that historically has been reserved for fine art. (Art, as the New York Times noted back in 2013, in "Art Is Hard To See Through The Clutter Of Dollar Signs," is now attracting the kind of money that used to be reserved for major weapons system acquisition by first world nation states, but that's a lament for another day.) This, coupled with the wealth creation and concentration of wealth in a globally interconnected class of collectors, has driven vintage watch collecting in the same direction as high end collecting in general.
It's also the nature of luxury purchasing nowadays to be driven by branding rather than by quality as such, which increasingly exists only to the extent that it has to; the tendency is for luxury goods to be reduced to the absolute minimum of quality necessary to maintain brand identity. This is in contrast, of course, to a brand being elevated because of the quality of its products.
Vacheron Constantin observatory tourbillon, 1931.
Still, though, it seems quite odd to have one of the most basic indexes of quality in this particular class of collectibles to be both virtually absent from the conversation, and to do so little to drive sales (auction houses often don't show movement images at all, which merely reflects what generally interests, or does not interest, collectors).
There are reasons, of course, but it's still bizarre. I suppose it should not be surprising – after all, we have over the last few years seen that the global watch collector community is also rather surprisingly willing to uncritically accept the authenticity of anything that appears on the market (in contrast to the fine art market where there is at least an appearance of an attempt at reasonable forensic verification, and plausible chain of custody). And of course, people collect for all sorts of different reasons. The upside is that if you're one of those individuals who prizes the traditional expressions of craft in watchmaking, you can still find quite a lot out there to satisfy your tastes.
There’s a well known saying among divers, mountaineers, and spelunkers – “two is one, one is none” – that summarizes the wisdom of carrying backups for every piece of vital equipment. You never know when you’ll drop your glove into a crevasse in the Khumbu Icefall, your headlamp will shatter 600 feet underground, or your dive computer display will go screwy at 30 fathoms. These failures can mean frostbite, disorientation, or decompression sickness at best or, taken to the extreme, an exotic and excruciating death. Nowadays, a diver can wear two wrist computers or go “old school,” with an analog watch and a depth gauge, to get him safely back to the surface. In my case, wearing the Jaeger-LeCoultre Polaris Memovox to bed as a backup ensured that I made my 5:20 AM flight to the Caribbean for a week of diving.
The limited edition Polaris Memovox is the halo piece in the all-new Polaris collection.
From Minneapolis, the journey to Bonaire, in the Dutch Caribbean, begins with that very early flight to Atlanta. This meant a 3:45 AM taxi and a 3:00 AM wakeup. This was my seventh trip to Bonaire (yeah, I know) and I never sleep properly the night before leaving – not out of excitement, but out of anxiety that I will oversleep due to a silenced iPhone or incorrectly set alarm. Sure, it’s never happened before, and my wife had an alarm set on her phone as well, but anxiety knows no logic. So this time I wound up the Memovox and set its alarm to 3:15, a mechanical backup to a satellite-synched, battery-powered device. I could sleep soundly, if all too little.
Of course, I didn’t need the Memovox after all. My iPhone alarm sounded and, 15 minutes later as I was making coffee, the watch on my wrist started its telltale jingle. Still, it illustrates my point about backups, though I’m not advocating buying a $12,600 limited edition Swiss watch simply to let you sleep well at night.
This year marks the 50th anniversary of the first Polaris diving watch and, even for watch brands who are enamored with anniversaries, a half century is a significant milestone worthy of acknowledgment. Fittingly, at the Salon International de la Haute Horlogerie this past January, Jaeger-LeCoultre introduced an entirely new Polaris line, from a time-only three-hander to a chronograph, on up to the halo piece: this Memovox limited edition, the closest homage to the original 1968 Polaris , with its signature “voice of memory” mechanical alarm.
It’s good to see Jaeger-LeCoultre back in the true sports watch game. In the early 2010s, they turned out a string of diver hits in both the “vintage-inspired” and modern categories, with the Deep Sea Alarm and the Deep Sea Chronographs on one hand, and the Master Compressor divers on the other. There was even a “Tribute to Polaris” that paid very faithful homage to the 1968 original. But then the focus shifted for a few years and the sportiest watch JLC produced was the excellent but dressy Geophysic. The release of the Polaris lineup at SIHH was a welcome surprise for most. Finally, a Jaeger you wouldn’t be afraid to get wet again. Well, sort of.
Despite its historical diving inspiration and 200 meter water resistance, the Polaris is not marketed as a watch for diving, nor recommended for it.
The Polaris Memovox is the only watch in the new lineup with 20 bar pressure resistance, equivalent to around 20 atmospheres, or 200 meters of water depth. This is despite the fact that none of its three crowns screw down. While I’ve dived with several watches with “push-pull” crowns (most recently, the 100 meter-rated Rado Captain Cook), I’ve never dived with one that has THREE crowns that are free-spinning. A screw-in crown is one of my few criteria for a dive watch for long term use – if not for sealing properties, for the reassurance that a snag on dive gear won’t inadvertently pull out a crown before or during a dive.
The upper crown winds and sets the alarm, as well as adjusts the date.
The original Polaris evolved from Jaeger’s original diving alarm watch, the Deep Sea Alarm of the late 1950s. That watch, while featuring the brand’s most recognizable complication, lacked a rotating elapsed time ring. The Polaris kept the alarm and added the internal rotating ring, using a version of Ervin Piquerez’s twin crown “Compressor” cases, moving the timing ring control to the middle crown position to keep the two o'clock crown for alarm setting. This is the same configuration used on the latest Polaris Memovox which, despite its diving origins and healthy water resistance, is actually not intended to be used as a diver's watch. The manual even states that, “your watch must not be used for scuba diving or for sports involving significant risk of impact, such as windsurfing or waterskiing.” But I did it anyway – with JLC’s consent, of course.
The Polaris Memovox doesn't look like a conventional dive watch.
The Polaris Memovox doesn’t really look like a dive watch. The angular lugs of the 42mm case slope down severely and the slim bezel is polished, surrounding the domed sapphire crystal. The dial is a lovely contrast of surface treatments. The outer radius is a lightly textured black, upon which the honey-hued Arabic numerals and hashes are applied. The inner rotating alarm disc is smooth matte black with a tiny arrow and the “Memovox” name printed in white, matching the dots and numerals on the narrow elapsed time ring. With no-nonsense baton hands, this is a watch that defies categorization – dynamic yet conservative, sporty yet resolutely dressy. I envision it fitting right in on the teak deck of a sailing yacht in the Virgin Islands, or poolside in Cannes – it's the watch a well-heeled sportsman slides on his wrist when he takes off his Gyrotourbillon. The rubber strap is excellent – thin, long and supple enough to wrap around the wrist, terminating in a foldover deployant clasp. Again, not really made for diving, where sizing for fit over a wetsuit is a bit more involved than moving a buckle pin over one hole. And it would be a pity to bang up the polished “JL” clasp on the gunwale of a dive boat.
The dial, with its rotating center alarm disc, has contrasting textures.
The caseback of the Polaris is solid steel with a bit of a dome, adding up to a substantial thickness close to 16 millimeters. This is in place of the display backs on some of the other Polaris watches. A JLC movement is always a pleasure to behold, but in this case (literally) it’s for the alarm function – the domed steel back serves as a resonator, for optimal tone and volume of the alarm. It is decorated with an engraving of a simplified diver’s helmet, immediately bringing to mind the logo seen on Compressor-cased dive watches of the 1960s.
The pièce de résistance of this watch is the alarm, which has always struck me as an odd choice for a dive watch. There are several historical precedents for alarm dive watches, including those from Vulcain, with its Cricket Nautical, and JLC’s Deep Sea Alarm and Polaris. And certainly sound travels very well underwater, but given its one-time use, and that it's a function you have to set prior to descending, it's of somewhat limited utility. I assume its original use was to alert a diver when a dive should be terminated, due to a predetermined bottom time. But this doesn’t allow for any deviation once you’ve descended, since changing the timing of the alarm necessitates pulling out the crown, which is a no-no underwater. Also, the alarm is not set based on elapsed time in precise increments, but on the time of day. So if you start a dive at 10:08 and you want to end the dive after 33 minutes, you’d have to approximate 10:41 with the alarm setting arrow on the inner disc – no mean feat. And even if you manage to get this right, while an audible alarm definitely would get your attention, use of the far simpler elapsed time ring would be easier and just as effective, unless there’s a fear that nitrogen narcosis will cloud thinking at depth. So, for me, the alarm function remains more of a fun novelty than something terribly useful.
Despite the Polaris Memovox not being intended for diving, JLC gave me the all-clear to take it for a spin anyway.
I did make use of the alarm on one dive and it is effective for getting attention. It is, in fact, very loud. I’ve dived with a Vulcain Cricket Nautical in the past, and if my auditory memory serves, the Cricket alarm is more of a metallic buzz, while the Memovox has a slightly more ringing tone. Regardless, fish in the vicinity scattered when it did go off.
The domed caseback is designed to optimize alarm resonance.
The folding buckle makes this watch a bit tougher to adjust for fitting over a wetsuit.
The middle crown rotates the timing ring and the lower crown is for time setting and winding.
I had the fullest intention of using the alarm again on a dive to shoot video to capture its sound underwater, but a malfunction prevented me from taking it deep again. One morning, when I put the watch on my wrist, I went to spin the middle crown and it didn’t budge. It felt like a screw-down crown that was locked in place. Spinning it counter-clockwise, the crown turned but the timing ring didn’t respond and soon the crown itself unthreaded from the stem, dropping into my hand. Though the watch showed no sign of water ingress – fogging, moisture, or erratic movement behavior – I deduced that some saltwater had gotten past the crown tube seal and dried inside, seizing the timing ring mechanism. I have no basis for this theory other than my own past experience with seized external bezels, which can stop spinning after even couple of salty dives without good case clearance or adequate rinsing. Since my trip, I’ve sent the watch back to Jaeger-LeCoultre, and their explanation for the mishap is that I received a very early prototype, which had teething problems.
I’m not going to dismiss an entire watch based on one incident with a pre-production version put through arguably harsher treatment than it was ever meant for in the first place. I’d like to think that my problem with the prototype will be taken into consideration by the watchmakers at JLC and perhaps help improve the Polaris itself. But who am I kidding? The limited edition Polaris Memovox will likely never see bottom time on the wrist of any of its 1,000 lucky owners, given both its pedigree and its $12,600 price. And that’s just as well, since it's not marketed as a dive watch, and by taking it diving I defied the owner’s manual for the watch itself.
The Memovox alarm is loud, especially underwater.
As a backup device though, the Polaris Memovox served its purpose in perhaps the best way it could – giving me peace of mind the night before an early flight for a dive trip. And it goes to show that sometimes, even though two is one, and one is none, even backups need backups.
Today, we’re very proud to announce that Volume 2 of the HODINKEE Magazine is now available in the HODINKEE Shop. The second edition of our print magazine is filled with fascinating stories examining new and vintage watches, in addition to many other features that are sure to excite HODINKEE readers.
When we launched the HODINKEE Magazine back in September 2017, it represented a new direction for us, a new way to tell compelling stories about the things we love. It allowed us to expand our gaze to cover all of the things that live alongside watches in our lives – such as cars, fashion, architecture, and technology – and to build an even stronger sense of what HODINKEE stands for in the broader cultural landscape.
After the overwhelmingly positive response, we knew we had to follow up Volume 1 with something pretty special. I think we've done just that and I couldn't be more excited to share it with you all.
The HODINKEE Magazine, Volume 2
Just like its predecessor, the HODINKEE Magazine, Volume 2 covers many different topics and includes a number of voices that you don't see here every day. Stories include a rare glimpse into one of the world’s most impressive collections of vintage Leica cameras, an in-depth story on the making and collecting of the BMW M1, and a beautifully photographed story on some of London’s most controversial architectural masterpieces.
And then there's our cover story. Our founder Ben Clymer sat down with Apple Chief Design Officer Jony Ive, himself a longtime watch lover, for an expansive interview covering everything Apple Watch and a whole lot more. In this 16-page feature, Ive talks about his own fascination with the classics of Swiss mechanical watchmaking, the unprecedented steps Apple took in developing its first wearable product, and how he thinks about the future of technology on the wrist, while Ben himself reflects on what it means to be talking watches at Apple Park with arguably this generation's greatest designer. There are also exclusive photos of Ive at Apple Park, including one of the coolest wristshots of all time.
The more watch-focused stories include an in-depth look at calendar watches by Jack, "Reference Points: Patek Philippe Calatrava" by Cara, and Ben’s personal story of discovering and growing to love rare waterproof chronographs from Universal Genève.
We’ve drawn on a who’s who of contributors and friends to create a magazine unlike any other, with stories and interviews by the likes of filmmaker Spike Lee, actor and watch collector James Marsden, former Wired editor-in-chief Scott Dadich, Michelin-star chef Daniel Humm, and more.
More To Enjoy
While we still believe the stories in the HODINKEE Magazine are best enjoyed on paper, there are unique opportunities to add another dimension to some of the stories by making them available online. Today we're also launching an online home for the HODINKEE Magazine, which will be occasionally updated with new versions of stories from print that have been expanded with new visual and interactive experiences. We're launching today with the Jony Ive interview and "Re-Making Modern," Stephen's look inside John Lautner's historic Harpel House from Volume 1.
We also decided that it was time for HODINKEE Magazine to have its own Instagram account. For extras and outtakes from the making of the magazine, as well as stunning photos of all the things you'd expect to find in the magazine itself, follow @hodinkeemag on Instagram.
How To Get It
The HODINKEE Magazine, Volume 2, is available now and is priced at $27. Orders can be placed through the HODINKEE Shop to ship around the world. Click here to order the magazine for yourself.
Additionally, the HODINKEE Magazine is available at Centurion Lounges from American Express, select Andaz, Intercontinental, Park Hyatt, and Ritz-Carlton hotels, as well as private aviation terminals and a handful of premium retailers (you can see a full list here).
HODINKEE Magazine Volume 2 was a labor of love, and pretty much everyone here played a part in creating this beautiful and engaging publication. We think of it more as a coffee table book than a standard magazine. We hope that you’ll enjoy reading and owning your copy for years to come.
Earlier today we announced the launch of the HODINKEE Magazine, Volume 2. To say we're excited about it is more than a bit of an understatement. With a cover story featuring Apple Chief Design Officer Jony Ive, it also contains tons of other incredible articles, spanning everything from a deep dive into a favorite watch reference to a survey of London's best Brutalist architecture. It's now our pleasure to invite you to a special launch event taking place tomorrow night, May 10, right here in downtown New York City, where we'll celebrate Volume 2 the right way.
Come on by for drinks, watch talk, and an all around good time with the HODINKEE team and fellow readers. We'll have a bunch of copies of the magazine for you to look through and for you to purchase. The HODINKEE Shop will also be on site with a pop-up stocked with great new and vintage watches, and of course, a full assortment of straps and accessories that they have specially curated for this event.
The festivities will run from 6:30 PM to 9:00 PM on Thursday, May 10, in Lower Manhattan. Space is limited, so we ask that you please RSVP through this link. All confirmed RSVPs will receive an email from a member of the HODINKEE team, with more information coming on Thursday morning.
If you're outside of the New York City area or you can't make it, you can still purchase your copy of HODINKEE Magazine Volume 2 by heading over to the HODINKEE Shop – and be sure to read the cover story right here too.
Toward the end of 2017, A. Lange & Söhne introduced the Homage To Walter Lange (which was part of its SIHH 2018 presentation). The Homage To Walter Lange was the product of Walter Lange's fascination with a very unusual complication: the independent seconds. This complication is a sort of predecessor to the chronograph – it basically consists of a seconds hand which can be set running, stopped, and set running again, without also stopping the main timekeeping train. The biggest difference between an independent seconds hand and a chronograph is that the latter also has a reset-to-zero function. Lange received a patent for its design for this complication in 1877 and ended up making more than 300 – clients included the observatory in Leipzig, and the physicist Ernst Abbe, who was a co-owner of Carl Zeiss in the late 19th century. Sadly, this was to be Walter Lange's last initiative for the company that bears his name – he passed away during the SIHH, at the age of 92.
The steel Homage To Walter Lange features a black grand feu enamel dial.
The Homage (a limited edition) was announced in white, pink, and yellow gold, but Lange also said there would be one more made, with a steel case and black enamel dial. This would be auctioned for charity some time in 2018, although at launch Lange hadn't specified a launch partner or charity. However, we now know that the steel Homage To Walter Lange is going under the hammer (a figure of speech I always find a little alarming in the context of watches) at Phillips this month, with no reserve. In a January 2018 interview, Lange CEO Wilhelm Schmidt, when asked why the watch would be auctioned rather than sold directly to a client, remarked, "An auction is the most efficient and equitable way of establishing the true value of this unique piece."
On the dial side, this is pretty much as pure as watchmaking at Lange gets. Against the black enamel dial, Lange's characteristically extremely sharp execution of its watch hands stands out like a diamond in a coal-scuttle. The central seconds hand in addition to being independent, is also a jumping, or dead-seconds, hand; there's a continuously running seconds hand in the sub-dial at six o'clock.
The jumping independent seconds train is under a bridge, elevated above the mainplate. To the left is the column wheel system that controls start and stop of the independent seconds hand.
The movement is constructed and finished to exactly the standard you would expect from Lange, which is to say, it's immaculate. The 3/4 plate aesthetic is not necessarily to everyone's taste, as it can seem rather austere in comparison to a full-bridge movement, but it is consistent with the general design of movements in German watchmaking. Modern manufacturing methods mean that one advantage 3/4 or full-plate movements had over bridge calibers – greater rigidity, which was an aid to rate stability – no longer generally obtains, but it is more difficult to assemble a 3/4 plate movement than a bridge caliber (I remember, many years ago, trying to reassemble the first 3/4 plate American pocket watch I'd ever worked on; there was swearing) so if you like the idea of the exercise of craft for its own sake, Lange remains a very appealing manufacturer. A. Lange & Söhne movements on a certain level, are the art of the unnecessary in the best possible way, although they're also manufactured to a high functional standard (Lange watches anecdotally seem to be, reliably, extremely accurate) and they combine excellence in craft and excellence in functional integrity in a way you see in very few watches these days.
Lange independent jumping/dead seconds caliber L1924.
The independent jumping seconds train is actuated by the escape wheel, and it's quite an ingenious system. In the diagram below, a star wheel (2) is attached to the escape wheel (3); both complete a full rotation every five seconds. Once per second, the star wheel rotates far enough to free the lever (1) known as a "flirt" in watchmaking, which makes one instant rotation before being blocked by the next star wheel tooth. As it rotates, the gears further down the independent jumping seconds train are free to briefly advance as well; the wheel at (4) turns once per minute, advancing once per second and the center seconds hand is mounted on its pinion. The wheel at (5) is the driving wheel, and the sawtoothed wheel at its center transfers energy, via two ruby pallets, from the main gear train to the independent jumping seconds train. This arrangement means that even when the center seconds hand is stopped, the sawtoothed transfer wheel can continue to turn and the watch won't stop.
One of the reasons this is a bit of a big deal for A. Lange & Söhne enthusiasts is that steel-cased Langes are extremely rare and when they do appear at auction, they tend to command correspondingly stratospheric prices. In 2013, a steel-cased Double Split with a high estimate of CHF 180,000 ended up hammering for CHF 461,000 at Christies Geneva, and in the same year, a steel Lange 1 with a high estimate of CHF 100,000 hammered for CHF 147,750.
Schmidt describes the charity to which all proceeds from the auction will be donated: "The name of the charity organization we have chosen is Children Action. They will use the money to provide aid to children in need. They have projects in fields such as medical care or psychological support, which are set up and implemented by experts. And there is one more thing: The founder of Children Action, Bernard Sabrier, bears the administrative overhead expenses. So, one hundred per cent of the money will go to the aid projects."
Crystal ball-gazing about auction results is always a little bit of a risky business (sometimes a very risky one), but this is an unusual complication in, for Lange, an extremely rare case material. I think there's a very reasonable expectation of a great result; and so much the better that it's for a good cause.
For more info, check out the Phillips essay on the 1815 'Homage To Walter Lange' Unique Piece in steel at Phillips.com.
Auction season is now in full swing, and this upcoming weekend the collector community will descend upon Geneva for sales from Christie's, Phillips, Sotheby's, and more. If the November auctions tend to be the year-end blockbusters, it's the May sales that set the tone for the coming months, telling us what is hot and what is not. There are a lot of big-ticket watches getting tons of attention – the top lots from Daytona Ultimatum chief among them – but auctions can still be great places to find exceptional, unusual watches at fair and even aggressive prices. The days of totally swiping something at a mainstream auction are basically gone, but not everything has to carry an "I bought it at Such And Such and it came with a commemorative box" premium either.
The catalog that stood out to me most for its sleeper hits was Sotheby's. Turning the pages, I struggled to find as many heart-stopping lots, but I found myself dog-earing page after page of things I wanted to take another look at. Here I've assembled a collection of nine watches that you'd do well to watch. These are all awesome watches, some rarer than others, and to be clear, they're not cheap, but they're all watches that I think represent good relative value in a market that's pushing toward the stratosphere.
Audemars Piguet Royal Oak Perpetual Calendar In Solid Platinum (Lot 186)
I'm gonna start things off big here. This is a solid platinum Royal Oak with a full solid platinum bracelet that's packing a serious QP movement to boot. Best of all, it's in the 39mm "Jumbo" size, so it wears like a dream (a heavy dream, but a dream). If you've never seen one of these in the metal, I cannot recommend strongly enough that you find one to try on. The watch is definitely hefty, but the comfort of the Royal oak case and bracelet offset this beautifully and you end up with a watch that has a je ne sais quoi like no other. This version has a silver dial without the tapisserie pattern, giving it a slightly cleaner, more modern look, and it is a limited edition of 25 pieces dating to 1998.
The estimate on this piece is CHF 20,000 - 40,000, which, while still serious money, it an outright steal for something like this. Depending on where it finally hammers, you might be able to get a platinum perpetual calendar for about the same price as a modern time-only, stainless steel Royal Oak "Jumbo" or Nautilus ref. 5711. I wouldn't be surprised if this one pushes beyond the upper estimate, but a man can hope, right? More on this watch here.
Patek Philippe Ref. 3424 Designed By Gilbert Albert (Lot 281)
Ok, this one is an acquired taste, but I suggest you do a little research and acquire that taste. During the late 1950s and '60s, Patek worked with a Geneva-based jeweler named Gilbert Albert (first in-house and then as a contractor), who created a number of strangely shaped watches for the venerated watchmaker. You've got to remember that this is the same time when Patek is making conservative, blue chip watches – this is pre-Nautilus, pre-Aquanaut, even pre-Ellipse. The Albert watches look exactly like the era in which they were born and are a rare example of an explicitly "fashionable" watch from a brand like PP.
These watches are relatively rare and prices have been going up over the last few year. With that in mind, the CHF 20,000 - 40,000 estimate Sotheby's has placed on this 1961 model feels very fair to me. If you're still reading this, you might agree, but I'm willing to bet a number of you have already moved on to the next lot. Like I said, this kind of stuff isn't for everyone. More on this watch here.
Early IWC Aquatimer With Original Gay Frères Bracelet (Lot 179)
While today IWC is well known for its multiple lines of sports watches, back in the middle part of the 20th century it was regarded mostly as a maker of dress watches (military pilot's watches aside, of course). In 1967, that started to change with the brand's introduction of the Aquatimer, a compressor-style dive watch with a bold inner rotating bezel and a clean, highly legible dial.
Finding early Aquatimers in great condition is tough for a number of reasons. As with all sports watches, many were used and abused to varying degrees and the production numbers on these weren't high enough to give us many near-mint barn finds today. The example here is from 1968 and comes with both a certificate from IWC and the watch's original IWC-signed Gay Frères bracelet in a sort of beads-of-rice style that looks like what you might find on a 60s Heuer chronograph. With an estimate of CHF 20,000 - 30,000, you're going to need to be a big IWC fan to bid on this one, but it's a genuinely rare and special watch that I don't see getting too much attention. More on this watch here.
Cartier Santos In Platinum With A Salmon Dial (Lot 55)
By now you probably know I'm a recent convert to the Cartier Santos, but I think even before my latest revelations I'd have been into this one. I mean...look at it. This is a small Santos from the mid-90s with a solid platinum case and bezel and a subtle salmon dial (remind you of anything?). One of my favorite details? The cabochon in the crown is a real sapphire – no spinels or impersonators here. This watch was a limited edition of 90 pieces (this is number 28, in case you're curious), and I've got to admit it's a watch I'd never seen before. Yes, that still happens to us here at HODINKEE HQ.
If this watch sells in the CHF 5,000 - 7,000 estimate range, someone is going to get a hell of a steal. This is one of those watch that, on the right strap, could look like a million bucks. It's a piece that, in particular, I could see any of the few dozen chic-as-hell Italian collectors I know rocking with a dark tan and a light linen shirt like they were born to (because they were). More on this watch here.
Jaeger-LeCoultre Reverso With Blue Dial (Lot 211)
There are some watches that have just never experienced the same giant price surges that we've seen in most of the vintage market over the last decade or so. The Reverso would be chief among them. There's so much to love about the Reverso, but I think the relatively small profiles of the early examples (and the strength of many of the modern tribute pieces) has helped keep them attainable.
This Reverso dates to 1944 and has a deep blue dial with darkly aged radium for the hour markers and hands. If you flip the watch over there's an awesome Art Deco enamel-filled monogram reading "MJ" that I think makes this watch. I mean, how many cool MJs are there out there? A lot, right? I doubt any of them owned this watch, but for CHF 10,000 - 15,000 you could certainly pretend. More on this watch here.
Solid Yellow Gold Vacheron Constantin 222 (Lot 112)
Alright, let's get weird people. To call this watch a cult classic is a vast understatement – and that's in stainless steel. In solid yellow gold, the Vacheron Constantin 222 is a straight up love or hate watch. Most will think it's too funky and too loud, but if that's kind of the look you're going for it's an exceptional watch that you can have for a still reasonable price.
With an estimate of CHF 15,000 - 20,000, this watch reminds me of the platinum Audemars Piguet QP up above in a lot of ways. It's a true design classic and to be able to get one in a solid precious metal at this price point is crazy. This 1978 example looks to be in good shape and VC's choice of a golden date disc to harmonize with the markers and hands is one of the little things that helps the watch sing. More on this watch here.
Patek Philippe Ref. 3429 (Lot 297)
I've tried not to double up on brands here, since there are more than enough options to choose from without doing so, but this one is personal. I love the reference 3429. I probably shouldn't be putting this watch in here, because doing so could help push prices up – and believe me, until there's one in my collection that's the last thing I want. This watch is so underrated. Like, to a criminal degree.
The 3429 is a 35mm mid-century Patek, here in a sleek white gold case, that only shows hours, minutes, and seconds. The dial is clean and open, with simple stick markers and hands, and nothing to speak of in the way of adornment. It does however house an automatic movement beneath the screw-down back, two things that make the watch extremely practical and wearable. It's not quite the 2526...but it's pretty damn close. And at CHF 20,000 - 30,000, this watch could be less than half the price of one of its more popular siblings. More on this watch here.
Heuer Carrera Ref. 2447N (Lot 168)
Heuer is hot right now. It wasn't all that long ago that a killer Carrera could be had for under $5,000 every day of the week. In the era of Heuer Parade and a generally hot market, that's not a regular occurrence anymore. Far from it, in fact.
The 2447N is arguably the most desirable of the early Carreras – with its black dial, silver rehaut, three register layout, and lack of date – and it wears like a dream. I'd be a little shocked if this one stay in the CHF 6,000 - 8,000 estimate range, but you never know. If you're looking for a nice Carrera, pay attention, this could be a great opportunity to get one for a more wallet-friendly price. More on this watch here.
Cream Dial Rolex Explorer II Ref. 16550 (Lot 73)
You thought we'd get all the way through this list without a Rolex? Seriously? Yeah right. I'll at least spare you more about Daytonas and pick something a little unusual. During a transitional period in the late 1980s, Rolex created a batch of would-be white Explorer II watches that ended up a cream color instead. You'll notice that the dial and the tritium lume are almost the same color in the photos here.
These watches have had their ups and downs in the collector market over the years, but I still think that at CHF 8,000 - 10,000 it's one of the rarest Rolex watches you can buy and something that has potential upside down the line. More on this watch here.
The Sotheby's Important Watches sale will take place on Sunday, May 13, in Geneva at 10:30 AM CEST. Check out the full catalog here.
Sometimes a watch is just a watch. And that can be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on the make, model, design, and technical merits. But then there are watches that are much more than little mechanical keepers of time – this is one such watch. This special little Omega, with its well-worn dial, belonged to one of the most famous men of the 20th century and someone who left an indelible mark on popular culture. This is Elvis Presley's wristwatch and now it's hitting the auction block at Phillips in Geneva.
The diamonds are the perfect size for this watch.
Let's do a quick overview of this watch's history before getting into the watch itself. Elvis was presented with this special Omega at in February 1961 at a ceremony celebrating him hitting the 75 million records sold mark – something never done before. Instead of something like a stock-standard Datejust or Seamaster, the folks at RCA records decided to get the King something a little more special, opting for this Omega with a Tiffany-signed dial and 44 brilliant cut diamonds in the bezel. In the subsequent years, Elvis would be photographed a number of times wearing the watch, both on and off stage. If you want to know more, check out our original story about this watch from when Phillips first announced it was coming up for sale.
So, what's it like holding a watch that was gifted to Elvis more than half a century ago? It's awesome. Duh. Did you really think I was going to have a different reaction? One of the things that makes vintage watches so interesting to me is this way in which they act as tiny time machines, if you'll excuse the pun. You put one on your wrist and look down to check the time, and you're instantly transported back to the moments in the past when another person did the exact same thing. They wound the same crown, did the same double-take because they glanced too quickly, and nervously chewed their lip as the same hands seemed to move either too slowly or too quickly. Imagining Elvis giving this watch a little extra wind before walking out on stage, or admiring the shimmering diamonds as the stage lights hit them just so is more than a little charming.
Everything about this engraving screams "hand-made."
Supporting the historical provenance of this watch is the deep engraving on the caseback. Perpendicular to the "18k Gold" stamped between the top lugs you'll find "To Elvis / 75 Million Records / RCA Victor / 12-25-60" in sharp relief. You'll notice this date is a few months before the watch was given to Elvis, as it notes the date he's believed to have officially passed the 75 million record mark, Christmas Day 1960. There's something really old-school about the execution of the engraving, with letters varying in size a bit and not being so perfect around the edges. Today, you'd get something done by machine, but this was clearly done by hand.
Despite the 32.5mm case, the watch wears great on the wrist.
On the wrist, this was is just flat-out awesome. It definitely has more diamonds than I typically wear, but it doesn't read as feminine or dainty at all, even with the 32.5mm case. It doesn't look small on the wrist above, does it? There's something very glamorous and rock-star about it, probably due to the size of the diamonds. They feel sized to the width of the bezel and the size of the watch, rather than having been thought about independently and been made to work regardless. The Tiffany stamp balances nicely with the Omega logo and signature too (not always the case with double signatures). Finally, one of my favorite things about this watch is how it shows its age. There are some scratches in the running seconds sub-dial at six o'clock, the dial has a few other markings, and the case isn't crazy shiny. It feels like a worn watch that you might find at an estate sale, not something that's been treated like a relic.
Not all double signatures balance properly, but this one looks great.
The real question here is where this thing will land when it's up on the auction block. The short answer is that any guess is just that, a guess. The estimate has it between CHF 50,000 and CHF 100,000, but if collectors outside the watch world get involved the price could rocket up. If not, it might sell on the lower end. Remember, in the summer of 2012, a Hollywood memorbilia collector paid nearly $800,000 for one of the Heuer Monacos that Steve McQueen wore in Le Mans. Something similar could easily happen here, especially when you consider how passionate Elvis fans can be.
Will someone make this a record-setting watch? Who knows.
This watch is lot 160 in the Phillips Geneva Watch Auction: Seven, making it the last lot of the May 12 half of the sale. It carries an estimate of CHF 50,000 to 100,000, but depending on who gets involved in the bidding it could go for much more than that. To see the full catalog, visit Phillips online.
One very simple way to classify objects is to divide them into two groups: the necessary, and the unnecessary. Objects in the latter exist on a sort of ascending scale of absurdity. At the bottom are things that are not technically necessary, but nice to have – forks, dry-cleaning, soft-yet-strong bathroom tissue, and the like. As you move up the scale, the amount of absurdity goes up while the amount of utility goes down, until you finally arrive at things like minute repeaters, the entire artistic output of Jeff Koons, and flying tanks. This is the domain of the usually (but not necessarily) expensive – of objects designed to answer questions no one asked, and solve problems that don't exist. At their best, however, such things revel sufficiently in their total abdication of logic to achieve a certain baroque appeal all their own.
Submitted for your approval, then, is an object that is, if not the ne plus ultra of inutility, at least a pretty strong contender: a musical fruit knife, currently on the block at Sotheby's. This objet d'art is a combination music box, and tool for deftly disassembling your favorite pome, drupe, or what have you. It is equipped with both steel and gold blades (the gold is meant for citrus fruits, whose acidic juices may harm carbon steel) and contains a miniature music box mechanism, by Piguet and Meylan (both, of course, great old names in watchmaking). Believe it or not, this is actually not a one-off – musical fruit knives are apparently their own mini-genre, and a very well known example is part of the Salomons Collection at the Meyer Museum Of Islamic Art, of Breguet "Marie Antoinette" Grand Complication fame. The hilariously deadpan lot essay reads, in part: "By the well preserved nature of the present lot, it may be more accurate to suggest that this superb object maintained its primary function as an item of conspicuous consumption."
I can also add, purely on a personal note, that there is something about the term "musical fruit knife" that for some reason I can't put my finger on, puts a smile on my face. Heck, I'd want this around just for the opportunity to say, "musical fruit knife" that it affords, and besides, if it was good enough for Breguet super-collector Sir David Salomons, it's good enough for you.
I should also mention that these are avidly collected and extremely rare. While I've been writing with my tongue firmly in my cheek, the estimate is no joke: CHF 250,000–350,000. This is part of the May 13 sale at Sotheby's Geneva.
Having recently expressed some curiosity about why cosmetics and brand names seem to rule the roost when it comes to high value in vintage watch auctions, I felt it incumbent on me to look around and see what I could find coming up in Geneva this weekend that represents, in one way or another, high interest from a more strictly horological standpoint. The results were actually quite heartening (now, again, I have to emphasize, people collect for all sorts of reasons and if you find your personal sun rises and sets on PNDs, there is no more to be said than god bless and go in peace, the sermon is ended). At Christie's, for instance, the catalog is chockablock full of some great examples from the usual suspects, but there are also many lots that might fly a bit under the radar, but which are not, as they say, without interest. Here are five lots, in no particular order, that each represent a particular aspect of the larger world of fine and precision watchmaking.
A Vacheron Constantin Skeleton Perpetual Calendar
This is, to put it in watchnerd vernacular, a sweet, sweet watch. According to the lot notes, it was manufactured in 1986, which if not an absolute low-tide year for mechanical horology, was certainly one in which it remained far from clear that high end mechanical watchmaking had any sort of future. However, there were already developments that showed things were not all lost by any means. The Swatch had been introduced in Zurich three years earlier, and 1986 was the same year that Nicolas G. Hayek became Chairman of the Swatch Group; and, among other interesting developments, a revived Ulysse Nardin launched the first of its Trilogy Of Time watches in 1985.
This particular watch – ref. 43032, lot 12 – is powered by a movement based on the Vacheron Constantin caliber 1120, which as students of ultra thin watchmaking will doubtless remember, is also the JLC 920, Patek Philippe 28-255, and AP caliber 2120. At launch in 1967 it was the thinnest full-rotor automatic movement in the world, and amazingly enough, today, over 40 years later, its claim to that crown remains uncontested. The base caliber was mated with a perpetual calendar mechanism and the whole thing finished top and bottom, not only with ferociously exacting conventional movement finishing techniques, but also some of the most minutely detailed engraving I've ever seen in a wristwatch. It's the kind of watch I've always imagined might be worn by a certain kind of genteelly debauched, slightly past-his-prime European aristocrat, along with a smoking jacket, while shouting through an open chateau window at the gardener. If you've reached a point where accumulating steel sports watches is beginning to feel a little predictable, a little stale, and maybe a little juvenile, this one's for you. Estimate, $16,000-26,000, BYO sense of self-deprecating irony.
A Ten-Day Patek Philippe Ref. 5100
The Patek Philippe Ref. 5100 might be my favorite kinda-sorta-modern Patek. These were modeled, according to the lot notes, after the mid-20th century reference 2554, which had a similar case shape (and which has been called the "Manta Ray" lest you worry that PNDs have an exclusive on cutesy nicknames). The ref. 5100 was made in fairly small numbers – about 3,000 all told, and it was the first rectangular movement that Patek had produced in decades; this one comes with an extract from the Patek archives, and was manufactured in 2001.
Back in 2000, producing a watch with a ten-day power reserve was not the somewhat more common event that it is today, and Patek's Jean-Pierre Musy pulled out all the stops to make a watch that was notable not just for its long power reserve, but for its devotion in every detail to as elevated as possible an horological experience. The movement is finished to the Geneva Seal standards and then some, and incorporates little touches like a strap designed to support the watch in a table-clock like upright position when set on your nightstand.
This watch was also the subject of what was, in 2000, one of my favorite pieces of watch writing, to this day, which was produced by Timezone's Watchbore. The story is in two parts (Part 1, Part 2) and Part 1 contains probably the single most wonderfully digressive opening to a watch review in the history of watch reviews (it's a little blue, but hey, so is James Joyce's Ulysses). A fine gentleman's wristwatch that actually deserves to be called a fine gentleman's wristwatch; estimate for lot 16 is $16,000-26,000.
An Audemars Piguet Ultra-Thin Platinum Pocket Repeater
Audemars Piguet has been working hard on experimental and semi-experimental updates to minute repeater design for some time now, which culminated in 2016 with the introduction of the AP Concept Supersonnerie. For this project, AP spent a great deal of time analyzing pocket and wristwatch repeaters from its own museum collection, covering a span of over a century, and this watch was made in 1929, when AP was one of the very few makers in the world capable of making an ultra-thin repeater, and the Vallée de Joux was preeminent as one of the most significant centers of complicated watchmaking in the world (which come to think of it, it still is, of course).
The case, hands, and dial design are lovely but inside is where the action is – behold the svelte and seductive caliber 18‴ SMV "extra quality" hand-wound movement, which represents the acme (well, an acme, anyway) of high craft Swiss watchmaking before the Depression began to kill the market for this kind of leisurely pursuit of perfection. It would be most interesting to hear this one because platinum is not in general considered the best case material for repeaters – in addition to being much more difficult to work than gold, its density tends to produce a duller sound, although this watch comes from a time when expertise in making chiming watches by traditional methods was really at its peak, and I would not be surprised if the sound was much better than you'd expect from listening to many modern platinum repeaters. The estimate on lot 35 is $22,000-32,000 – relative to a lot of what else is out there in the vintage market for the same money, a bargain (though the bill for a service might take a little of the shine off that aspect of the watch).
A Girard-Perregaux Observatory Tourbillon, With 1st Class Bulletin From The Neuchatel Observatory
Earlier this year, prior to the SIHH, we had a chance to look at something really remarkable: an observatory pocket watch made by Girard-Perregaux, in 1889. It's an example of something invented and made famous by GP, which is the tourbillon under three golden bridges. It's one of the most beautiful mechanisms I've ever seen, and it represents the highest level of timekeeping technology of its day. This is one of its sisters – another top-grade tourbillon timekeeper, intended to both strike awe into the heart of its (both lucky and wealthy) owner, and to capture accolades in the observatory chronometry competitions, which were the Olympics of watchmaking during the decades they were held.
This watch is also a sister to another, very famous Girard-Perregaux timepiece, nicknamed "La Esmeralda," which was once owned by the President of Mexico, and which is now in GP's museum collection (as it the tourbillon we had back in January). "La Esmeralda" is so called because it was sold through GP's retailer in Mexico, La Esmeralda Hauser Zivy & Cie. The case, dial and hands are best-of-breed examples of high standard work of their era, but of course, almost all the interest in this piece is in the 19‴ movement, which is an extraordinary monument to the talent and dedication of the craftsmen who made it – as well as being a hand-portable museum of the ultimate in precision watchmaking in the late 19th century. For a closer look at what exactly that meant, check out our GP pocket tourbillon story from January, and find out more about this lot – No. 43, with an estimate of $27,000-37,000 – right here.
A Pocket Chronometer By Albert Potter, The 'American Breguet'
Albert Potter was born in Albany, New York, in 1836, although he moved to Geneva in 1875, where the majority of his watches were made. The quality of his work is very high and he's known not only for having adhered to an extremely high quality standard in general, but also for the unusual layout of the bridges in his watches, as well as for a number of inventions, which include an inclined axis tourbillon produced some time around 1860. His work's not generally well known in the wider collector community, but it's of enormous historic interest and as well, his watches radiate the unshakeable self-confidence of machines made by someone for whom the idea of compromising in any qualitative respect, would never have occurred at all.
If the adage that intolerance is the handmaiden of perfection is true, Potter must have been a deeply intolerant man. Lot 51 is from Potter's Geneva period, but it doesn't look like anything anyone else was making in Geneva at the time – for that matter, it doesn't look like anyone's work from any time; Potter's bridge design (for which he was awarded a patent) is instantly recognizable. The watch is no. 24 and has a helical balance spring (a piece of horological exotica generally only found in marine chronometers) as well as Potter's own version of a pivoted chronometer detent escapement. The estimate is hilariously low for the interest and quality – $11,000-16,000, and given the lassitude that even the highest grade pocket watches still seem to induce in bidders, it seems likely that someone's going to pay a relative pittance for a classic example of the finest watchmaking from one of the masters of 19th century horology. Still, in a world in which the very first known perpetual calendar watch ever goes for $79,000 bucks (largely because, as Ben wrote back in 2016, "nobody was paying attention,") maybe we shouldn't be surprised ... and maybe we should count our blessings too.
Nota bene, this particular auction has quite a lot of diversity, in contrast to the trend towards themed auctions and will reward carefully scrutiny (not that all auctions don't reward careful scrutiny, but the number of lots and variety here means a better than usual shot at seeing something others will miss). Check out all the listings at Christies.com.
Next week is the 8th edition of what's become both a tradition and institution for horological enthusiasts in and around the Big Apple: Madison Avenue Watch Week, during which the participating boutiques welcome both old friends and new, and create a variety of experiences designed to both educate and fan the fires of horological enthusiasm. In addition to offering a first-hand first look at some of the latest introductions from Baselworld and SIHH, you'll have an opportunity to participate in everything from a hands-on class in watchmaking at the Jaeger-LeCoultre boutique, to a chance to meet custom leather strap maker Jean Rousseau at Vacheron Constantin.
Some events are limited in terms of the number of participants (the JLC watchmaking workshop, for instance) so you'll need to look through the week's programs and make sure you secure a place for any smaller workshop or seminar. This year, participating boutiques include A. Lange & Söhne (who'll have beer and pretzels on hand to set the mood) Chopard, David Yurman, De Beers, F.P. Journe, Hublot, Jaeger-LeCoultre, Montblanc, Officine Panerai, and Vacheron Constantin. The Horological Society Of New York will also be supporting the event.
This year there's also a new participant, whose identity will surprise some, and probably raise some eyebrows – the Madison Avenue Apple boutique is a part of Madison Avenue Watch Week, for the first time. On the 14th through the 15th, from 6-7, the store will be conducting a seminar for Apple Watch owners on Watch basics and advanced features.
Just moments ago, during the much-anticipated Daytona Ultimatum sale hosted by Phillips in Geneva, the unique white gold ref. 6265 Daytona sold for CHF 5,937,500. This is now the second most expensive Rolex ever sold publicly, after Paul Newman's own Paul Newman Daytona, which sold for $17.75 million last year at Phillips in New York. It takes a second-place position previously occupied by the Rolex reference 6062 "Bao Dai," which sold for $5,060,427 last year. Of course, we can't forget to mention that the seller of this watch, John Goldberger, has graciously donated it to be auctioned with all of the proceeds going to the charity Children Action.
This was was one of six watches in Daytona Ultimatum (of the 32 on offer) with an estimate that reached or exceeded $1 million. It's important at a time like this to remember that as recently as 2013 there were exactly zero million-dollar Daytonas on the entire planet. It was in fact the last major Daytona-themed sale, Christie's Rolex Daytona "Lesson One," that changed all of this and started us on the path that has lead us here.
This watch is lot 8 in today's sale, so there are five of those big-ticket watches still to be sold and still plenty of time for records to be set or broken.
Stay tuned for more coverage of this weekend's Geneva auctions as they unfold over the next three days. To follow along with Daytona Ultimatum, click here.
