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It's a truism that you can't teach an old dog new tricks, and in horology, there aren't too many dogs older than the conventional combination of hands and numerals to tell the time. Novel time-telling displays are rare – there are things like the wandering hours display, of course, and occasional exotica like the bras en l'air (literally, arms in the air) watches in which an animated figure sitting in the middle of the dial points to the hours with one hand and the minutes with the other; there are the various variations on the theme of a digital display. However, Genus, which got its start just last year, has managed to do so, and the founders, Sébastien Billières and Catherine Henry, would go on to see their creation awarded the Mechanical Exception prize at the 2019 GPHG. The core of the Genus time-telling system is the snake-like arrangement of what Genus calls its "genera." These are diamond-shaped elements which orbit two sub-dials once per hour, and which indicate how many tens of minutes past the hour it is. The hour can be read off the pointer to the left, which indicates the hour via a rotating carrier which makes one full revolution every 12 hours; the number of minutes which have passed in each ten-minute interval is shown on a disk at the right, which rotates once every ten minutes. 

Genus has made excellent use of the decorative potential of Super-LumiNova in its watches (we seem to be seeing more and more of this in the last few years as it becomes increasingly apparent that the material has excellent long-term physical stability), and the lights-out show the watch puts on is most engrossing, and illustrates the rather hypnotic motion of the genera as they orbit around the sub-dials. 

This latest version of the watch uses the same movement as the first, which is the caliber 160W-1.2. This is a fairly large movement – in the pocket watch range at 38mm x 7.7mm, but of course, the time-telling system is not one that would benefit from any attempt to fit it into a smaller case, and the case for the GNS1.2 TD is 43mm x 13.3mm. It's the case that is actually the news this time – while previous versions have been in precious metals, the GNS1.2 TD is in damascene titanium (the TD stands for Titane Damassé). 

The term "damascene" sounds like it ought to have its origins in so-called Damascus steel, or wootz steel, in which different layers of the steel have different crystalline structures, which produces a visually striking banded effect (similarly, the hamon, or temper line, of Japanese swords is the result of controlling the rate at which different layers of steel cool when the sword is tempered). However, damascening is slightly different in that it involves welding together different layers of either similar alloys, or different metals all together; the term is actually derived from damask silk (although "damask" in turn does come from Damascus, which was a major trading point for the material along the Silk Road). In Japan, the technique is called mokume-gane (independent watchmaker Kees Englebarts makes mokume-gane dialed watches in very small numbers, very much in the traditional fashion), and it was originally developed in 17th century Japan by metalsmith Denbei Shoami, as a way of creating decorative fittings for swords (including tsuba, or sword-guards). For the GNS1.2 TD, Genus' case-maker welds together different titanium alloys, which turn blue at varying temperatures. 

There are various ways you can get the layers of metal to bond in this sort of work. The most traditional method, and the one that Genus seems to be using based on the press material, is so-called liquid phase bonding, in which the material is heated to a high enough level to partly liquify the boundary layers, welding them together. You can solder layers together, but this tends to introduce impurities and air bubbles, and you can also pressure-weld the layers together. Liquid phase bonding with titanium would be a delicate procedure; normally titanium is welded in an inert gas atmosphere to avoid contamination with atmospheric gasses, and to bond the layers for the Genus GNS1.2 TD case together, temperatures of 1200-1400º Celsius must be reached. Once the final block has been created, it's subjected to a final heat treatment that determines the depth of bluing (Genus says that clients can, if they wish, be present for this stage and determine the specific degree of saturation they want in the final product).

The effect is quite dramatic; the layered alloys produce a very vivid cornflower blue, alternating with a lighter, almost powder-blue coloration. I have seen heat-blued titanium used elsewhere in watchmaking, but I don't recall ever seeing a damascene titanium case before (one calls something a first in watchmaking at one's peril, but it's a new one on me). 

Genus also offers three options in terms of the appearance of the genera. They can be had either jeweled (see above), or you can have them in either a vertical or inclined orientation.

Genus has been a favorite independent brand of mine since they launched in 2019; I think it takes a lot of guts to create something like this under any circumstances in watchmaking and, while no one could have foreseen the headwinds we are experiencing now, in 2019, it was still a risky undertaking, to say the least. I think one of the things that appeals to me so much about their watches is that they are not the sort of watches you make without, first of all, a unique vision, and second, a tremendous amount of determination; I am sure that the founders, like any other entrepreneurs, have no objection to sales (as a friend of mine likes to say – when he first started out, his dad told him, "Now, remember son, no one ever went out of business taking a profit.") 

But this stuff is extremely hard to do at all, and even harder to do well. I also give Genus a lot of credit for working to ensure their customers actually receive a functioning watch. Now, you may think this ought to be a given, and you would be absolutely right to say so, but high-end superwatches and unusual complications often spend more time having frustrated owners and watchmakers puzzling over why they will not go, as they do being worn and enjoyed. I hope Genus and its founders, this rather nightmarish year notwithstanding, continue to build on their early success, and to find the audience that I think their watches so richly deserve.

The Basics

Brand: Genus
Model: GNS1.2 TD

Diameter: 43mm
Thickness: 13.3mm
Case Material: Damascene titanium
Indexes: Separate indications for hours, ten-minute intervals, and exact minutes
Lume: Super-LumiNova
Water Resistance: 3 bar/30 meters
Strap/Bracelet: Navy blue calfskin with rolled edges (alligator available on request) with damascene titanium pin buckle

The Movement

Movement: Caliber 160W-1.2
 Functions: Hours, ten-minute intervals indicated by orbiting elements, exact minutes on minutes disk at 3:00
Diameter: 38mm
Thickness: 7.7mm
Power Reserve: 50 hours
Winding: Manual
Frequency: 18,000 vph
Jewels: 26
Additional Details: Hand finished with polished bevels and flanks, mirror polished steelwork

Pricing & Availability

Price: $154,000
Availability: Available now
Limited Edition: No, however very limited annual production

For more, visit genuswatches.swiss.

It's over.

The Swatch Group's 10-year-long quest for the right to sell – or not sell – its mechanical watch movements to whomever it wants in whatever amounts it wants came to a successful conclusion last week. 

On July 15, Switzerland's anti-trust body, COMCO (for Competition Commission), issued a two-part ruling on the "Swatch Group Delivery Freeze Case" that began in 2010.

It ruled that the market for mechanical watch movements in Switzerland has opened enough that the regulator could lift restrictions it had placed on the group in 2013 because of its monopoly-like share of the market.

"Alternative suppliers of Swiss-made mechanical watch movements have effectively gained ground," COMCO president Andreas Heinemann said at a press conference. "This means watchmaking companies have become less dependent on Swatch's ETA unit," referring to the group's movement-making subsidiary.

"ETA is free to provide third-party customers with movements," COMCO decreed. But it also ruled that ETA continues to hold a dominant position in Switzerland's mechanical movement market, "and thus remains subject to cartel controls."

With that, COMCO closed a complex, controversial case that began in December 2009, when the late Swatch Group Chairman Nicolas G. Hayek, Sr., announced, out of the blue, that ETA would no longer be a one-stop shop for anybody and everybody who wanted to get into the Swiss watch business. Hayek declared that he had a right to restrict mechanical movement sales to third parties and asked COMCO for a ruling on the matter. (For a detailed account of the case, see "Swatch Group Battles With COMCO Over ETA Movement Sales.")

Concerns About Sellita

After a long investigation, COMCO ruled in 2013 that Swatch Group could restrict movement sales provided it reduced its dominant position in the market. COMCO and Swatch Group agreed on a "phase-out plan" that allowed ETA to gradually reduce mechanical movement sales over the remainder of the decade to allow time for ETA competitors to get a foothold in the market. ETA agreed to continue to produce movements for its customers according to COMCO quotas through 2019. The agreement stated that Swatch Group would be released from all obligations to sell to third parties on Dec. 31, 2019.

As the deadline approached, however, COMCO got cold feet. It worried that, due to changed market conditions (the sudden decline in luxury watch sales to China during the government's crackdown on corruption was one; the sudden rise in the value of the Swiss franc was another), the mechanical movement market had not developed sufficiently to enable Sellita, Soprod, STP, and others to compete with ETA.

In November 2018, COMCO opened "a review procedure" of the case "on the basis of indications that from 2020 there may not be sufficient numbers of alternative sources available to satisfy the watch manufacturers' demand for mechanical watch movements." 

The key question was whether Sellita, ETA's chief rival, could really compete with ETA once the Swiss market for mechanical watch movements was deregulated. When COMCO did not complete its new investigation in time to lift restrictions on the Swatch Group by the Dec. 31, 2019 deadline, it extended the terms of the 2013 agreement for one more year. The move sparked a firestorm of criticism from the Swatch Group and others in the Swiss watch industry. Swatch Group CEO Nick Hayek accused COMCO of favoring Sellita and trying to drive ETA out of the market. COMCO said it expected to conclude its review procedure in the summer of 2020.

20,000 Page File

The review procedure was comprehensive. COMCO interviewed about 200 watch and movement manufacturers. It said it "analyzed changes in market conditions and competition on the basis of market share, production volumes and capacity, market entry and the substitutability of mechanical movements." The case file contains more than 20,000 pages. 

COMCO concluded that the Swiss market for mechanical movements has become more competitive, with enough alternative suppliers to meet the market's need for mechanical movements. 

These were its major findings:

• "The demand for Swiss-made mechanical movements has declined considerably. The problem of the shortage of 2013 no longer exists." This is the result of the Swiss watch sales downturn of 2015-2016 and this year's disruption of the global watch business caused by the coronavirus pandemic. 
• "ETA competitors have increased their production and capacity."
• "The number of customers who source mechanical movements with ETA has decreased. They have developed alternative sources of supply."
• "The most important source and competitor, Sellita Watch Co., offers alternatives comparable to many of ETA's best-selling mechanical movements in price, quantity and quality."
• "Some ETA customers have developed and expanded their own production."

'A Dominant Company'

While ETA now has a significantly smaller share of the market of movement sales to third parties, COMCO stressed that it is still the dominant player in the field. "ETA remains by far the largest provider of Swiss-made mechanical movements," COMCO wrote in its decision. "It sells the majority of its production within the [Swatch] Group. Existing production volumes and capacity would allow it to sell quickly higher volumes outside the group in the event of a price change or business opportunities."

COMCO supplied no data, but Swiss sources estimate that Sellita supplies about 1.2 million mechanical movements in a normal year. ETA produces an estimated 6 million mechanical watch movements. However, 5.5 million of those are for Swatch Group brands. It supplies about 500,000 movements to third parties. Today, Swiss sources say Sellita has roughly a 60% share of the third-party market for mechanical movements, ETA roughly 30%, and 10% shared by the others. COMCO's concern is that, given ETA's strength, those percentages could change quickly.

COMCO stated that, while ETA is no longer bound by the restrictions of the 2013 agreement, "As a dominant company, ETA remains subject to the rules of conduct and cannot abuse its dominant position." It specifically noted that making movement sales contingent on purchases of ETA quartz movements or assortments from Nivarox-FAR, the Swatch Group's hairspring manufacturer, "would be illegal."

"COMCO will continue to monitor the evolution of the Swiss mechanical movement market and will intervene if it deems it necessary," it said.

The Swatch Group has not reacted to the COMCO ruling. Sellita CEO Miguel Garcia told Reuters it was important that COMCO considered ETA the dominant player in the market because it meant ETA had to abide by competition laws.

We reported about the NH Type 2A, a 2020 novelty from Naoya Hida & Co., just a while ago. The Type 1B is the brand's debut piece that came out last year, and I saw this watch in the flesh for the first time about a year ago during its press release. I only had ten minutes or so with the watch then, and that just wasn't enough to observe all the details. By the way, the NH Type 1B already has its predecessor: NH Type 1C.

Naoya Hida & Co. is a new Japanese watch company launched in 2018 by Naoya Hida, a well-known figure in the Japanese watchmaking community. Hida has held prominent roles in sales and marketing at Japanese distributors for several top brands (Jaeger-LeCoultre, Vacheron Constantin, Breguet, F.P. Journe) since 1990. Hida founded his own watch brand in Japan with the mission to create his ideal wristwatches.   

The NH Type 1B's stainless steel case has a slim and vintage-inspired proportion of 37mm across and 9.8mm thick with a 20mm lug width. The watch resembles the classical look of vintage pieces from the 1930s to the 50s. Hida opted to use 904L steel instead of the more typical 316L for the case, as the former is highly corrosion resistant and often used in tech, aerospace, and chemical industries. Rolex was the first watch manufacturer to utilize it. The 904L is more expensive than the 316L, and tooling is much harder as well. Hida was met with many rejections when he reached out to manufacturing vendors, but he eventually found a company (which usually makes automotive and computer parts) that can machine this challenging material with an accuracy down to just a few microns using its own ultra-precision micromachining equipment.

A clean round case in 904L steel sits on sharp lugs with pronounced edges, creating a high visual contrast. The front face of the watch may suggest the entire piece is polished, but you will find the sides of the middle case are indeed brushed. The vintage-inspired oversize crown is kept polished and unsigned for a more discreet look. You will appreciate the tactile feel of the 18 teeth on the crown when you wind it.

The German Silver dial features interesting Breguet-style numerals, and the blued handset and the small seconds at nine o'clock further enhance the unique look. Typically, indices are either applied or printed, but the NH Type 1B took a little different approach. The numerals are all hand-engraved by skilled artisans and filled with a synthetic cashew urushi. You'll find this kind of execution on some antique pocket watches, but it is virtually nonexistent today due to its prohibitive manufacturing cost. Each watch is individually unique with a slight variation in engraving thickness and depth as the entire process is done by hand.

Another stand-out aspect on the dial is the three leaf hands. They, too, are machined out of metal like the case to achieve a three-dimensional look, and they get heat-blued after hand polishing. The hands are long and contrasty against the silver dial, providing excellent legibility.

The cal. 3019SS hand-winding movement drives the watch. This movement is based on the Valjoux 7750, but it's been converted to a manual-winder with the automatic winding components and chronograph module removed. Now, why would you go through all that trouble? There were mainly two reasons for that decision:

1) To house a large movement that JUST fits in a 37mm case.

2) To achieve his ideal small seconds dial position.

Hida says that he took the Patek Philippe Calatrava ref. 96 as a reference point for the design. The ref. 96 measures 30.5mm across its case and houses a 27mm movement. That's about as large as a movement can be for the given case size, and that would result in the small seconds dial not being too close to the center of the dial. After considering several existing hand-winding movements, Hida ultimately chose the Valjoux 7750, which is 30mm across (13.25 ligne) against the 37mm case, as a starting point and opted to remove the unwanted components from it. On top of that, the click and its spring were newly designed to achieve Hida's ideal tactile feedback on the winding action. You'll feel a slight resistance when you start winding, and your fingers will pick up a light and crisp feedback as you keep going. This kind of attention to detail is much appreciated, especially on a manual piece that requires a routine hand-winding.

NH Type 1B retails for 1,800,000 JPY (approximately $16,765), and the price tag isn't something you see every day on a stainless steel three-hand watch with an ETA-based movement. To be honest, I don't think anyone would find this watch to be a value proposition. You don't have to add much to your budget to reach Patek Philippe, Audemars Piguet, and Vacheron Constantin territory. However, we are talking about a micro brand here. Major brands can get more aggressive pricing through larger-scale material purchases and other cost reduction measures in production. Hida's use of cutting-edge technologies and unique methods to achieve his ideal vintage-inspired aesthetics is definitely noteworthy. When you realize the initial production was limited to just seven pieces, I think you'll understand that his approach to watchmaking, which could well be borderline madness, is something of a force to be reckoned with.

NH Type 1B had a limited production of seven pieces, and all of them are already spoken for. You can still purchase its successor, NH Type 1C, which was introduced this year. Visit the official website for more details.

This article first appeared on HODINKEE.jp, which you can visit clicking here.

Quick Take

Recently announced and rocking a tropical green dial and matching ceramic bezel, this is the latest conservation-themed Bathyscaphe from Blancpain, the Mokarran Limited Edition. Limited to 50 pieces, $1,000 of each sale will be donated to the Mokarran Protection Society, a non-profit that is committed to researching and protecting Great Hammerhead populations in French Polynesia. This mean and green limited edition sports a date-free layout, a hammerhead-themed rotor, and will be sold exclusively via Blancpain boutiques in New York and Las Vegas. 

Initial Thoughts

The name "Mokarran" is borrowed from Sphyrna mokarran, the Latin name for the Great Hammerhead, and the Mokarran project is an extension of Blancpain's long-standing Blancpain Ocean Commitment program. Speaking specifically to the watch, the Mokarran LE has a brushed black ceramic case measuring 43.6mm wide and 13.83mm thick. Fitted with a display caseback, the Mokarran has a hammerhead drawn on the rotor of its caliber 1318 movement. 

With a power reserve of 120 hours and a rate of 4 Hz, the 1318 is essentially a no-date execution of the 1315 we've seen in past Bathyscaphe models. Fitted to a black nylon strap, the combination of the radiant green over the dark case tone gives the Mokarran a rather distinctive and eye-catching look. 

Owners will receive not only their individually numbered watch, but also a certification confirming the donation to the MPS, an underwater photograph from a recent research mission to study the hammerheads, and a special code offering access to the Blancpain Ocean Commitment Circle. This is a members-only area of Blancpain's Ocean Commitment website, and access includes special previews of documentaries, access to brand partners, and more.  

With a list price of $15,500, the Bathyscaphe Mokarran is a good example of how an uncommon color can be used to great effect on a modern design like that of the Bathyscaphe and how brands can continue to support projects like the Mokarran Protection Society via interesting limited edition models. 

The Basics

Brand: Blancpain
Model: Bathyscaphe Mokarran Limited Edition
Reference Number: 5005-0153-NABA

Diameter: 43.6mm
Thickness: 13.83mm
Case Material: Ceramic
Dial Color: Green
Lume: Super-LumiNova
Water Resistance: 300 meters
Strap/Bracelet: Nylon fabric strap 

The Movement

Caliber: Blancpain 1318
Functions: Hours, minutes, seconds
Diameter: 30.6mm
Thickness: 5.65mm
Power Reserve: 120 hours
Winding: Automatic
Frequency: 28,800 vph
Jewels: 35

Pricing & Availability

Price: $15,500
Availability: Exclusive to Blancpain boutiques in New York and Las Vegas
Limited Edition: 50 pieces

For more, click here.

We are back today with another assortment of vintage watches in the HODINKEE Shop. We have some nice time-only options that are both dressy and practical, as well as a couple of beautiful Rolex examples, one in steel, the other all gold. There's even an ultra-thin Audemars Piguet dress watch to round out this week's selection. 

1982 Rolex Submariner Ref. 5513 With "Maxi" Dial

Rolex released the Submariner ref. 5513 in 1962, and it was in production until 1989. It is one of the longest references to be continuously produced in the history of the Crown. The Submariner started as a no-date watch, and Rolex today continues to offer that as an option. There is something about the clean and clear dial that many collectors appreciate. Whether it's the symmetry or the simplicity, no-date Submariners occupy the centerpiece position in countless watch collections worldwide. The example we have here is from 1982 and features a "Maxi" dial with larger lume plots. A little detail like this can make a big difference for watch enthusiasts, and this example is in outstanding condition with one of the most attractive dial and hand combinations we've ever seen. 

1976 Audemars Piguet Ref. 5418BA Automatic Dress Watch In 18k White Gold

This super-slim Audemars Piguet dress watch was originally sold in Asia in 1976. The 18k white-gold case and silver dial with white hour markers give this watch a very sleek and simple look. While it may look straightforward from the outside, the ultra-thin caliber 2121 inside was the result of some serious research and development. First released in 1967, the caliber 2121 stands just 3.05mm tall. It set the record for the thinnest, full-rotor automatic movement ever built when it was introduced 53 years ago.

1985 Rolex Oyster Perpetual Date 'Buick' Ref. 15038 With Full Set

Here's something you won't come across every day. It's a Rolex with a factory engraving of the Buick car company's tri-shield emblem on the caseback. These were given out by General Motors as an award for Buick employees with an outstanding job performance. A Rolex watch with a custom caseback engraving done by Rolex itself in Switzerland is extremely rare, which is why many collectors gravitate toward models like this watch. In addition to the engraving, this example comes as a complete full set, with its original paperwork, box, hang tags, and even the Buick-branded pamphlet.  

The Full Set

In addition to the three highlights above, we have a beautiful Omega military-style ref. 2383-7 from 1950, a 1960s IWC in 18k yellow gold with the classic manually wound caliber 401, and a fun LeCoultre Master Mariner ref. 1200. Head over to the HODINKEE Shop for a closer look!  

Each and every Wednesday, we present a fresh installment of "My Watch Story," a video series starring HODINKEE readers and their most prized watches. The submissions continue to stream in, and we couldn't be happier to share them with the watch community. Today, we have five new stories submitted by Joe Arduini, Adam Warrix, Sagar Chowdhury, Daniel Cruz, and Gareth Munden.

Feeling inspired, or just discovering this project? Please scroll down to the bottom of the page to learn how to submit your own video. But first, we hope you enjoy this installment of My Watch Story.

Joe Arduini And His Rolex GMT-Master II

Joe, who is from Wisconsin, has this GMT-Master II which was passed on to him from his father to thank for igniting his enthusiasm and interest in watches. He sees his GMT-Master II not just as a tool to tell time, but also as a reminder of the 30 different countries his father traveled to over the 13 years it was on his wrist. The engraving on the caseback is a simple expression of his parents' encouragement.

@joearduini

Adam Warrix And His Casio G-Shock Frogman

Ask Adam Warrix of Fort Wayne, Indiana, what the world's greatest watch is, and he won't hesitate to tell you: the Casio G-Shock Frogman. He learned about the watch's seemingly indestructible qualities as a young man in the Navy. He loves that it's a dive watch, is solar powered, has a backlight, and has all the robustness of the G-Shock line – and he has countless memories with the watch on his wrist.

@BadFishSC

Sagar Chowdhury And His Omega Seamaster 300

Sagar, an architect in Australia, first became amazed by the Omega Seamaster 300 from watching GoldenEye. It's been his daily beater for 13 years and has accompanied him on many exciting adventures, including the time he went diving and lived on a boat at the Great Barrier Reef. His recounting of these memories is a mixture of awe, exhilaration, and a little bit of danger.  

@SCh

Daniel Cruz And His Mido Multifort Powerwind

Daniel, who is from Mexico, proudly wears his Mido from the 1950s because it was a gift from his grandfather. It wasn't exactly in working order when he received it, but he sought out a watchmaker to bring it back to life. Daniel likes imagining what the world was like 70 years ago when it was first manufactured in Switzerland, and he plans to wear it well past its 100th year.

@Cross

Gareth Munden And His Buren Dirty Dozen

London-native Gareth tells the story of how he suffered through peritonitis and spent seven days in the hospital due to bad fast food he ate during a work trip in Los Angeles. While on morphine and unable to pass the time pleasantly in the hospital, the only thing that he looked forward to was returning home and opening the Buren box for the first time. He spent three months recovering, and the watch was on his wrist every day.

@garethmunden

Ready To Submit Your Own Watch Story? Here's How It Works

1. Pick one watch that is very special to you, and get your camera phone ready.

2. Record a video telling us your most interesting or meaningful story about your watch. Let's say 2-3 minutes is the sweet spot – if you go longer, that's okay. (And please remember to introduce yourself: your name and where you are from.)

3. Get creative, keep it clean, and have fun! 

4. Take some photos on the wrist and a few shots of the watch so that we can proudly display them on our site. Horizontal, please.

5. To share your video and photos, you can either A) upload here; or B) upload to your preferred large file transfer service and send a link to mywatchstory@hodinkee.com.

"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually, from a non-linear, non-subjective point of view it is more like a big ball of wibbily wobbly timey wimey ... stuff." – The Tenth Doctor, Doctor Who

The modern watchmaking landscape is in a state of flux on many levels, and yet, the basic structure of watchmaking has remained, at least over the last decade or so, relatively stable. The Quartz Crisis came and went, and the mechanical renaissance ushered in an era of Swiss dominance, as the success of the Swatch regenerated the industry and set the stage for the global rejuvenation of fine watchmaking.

But if you look a bit into the history of watchmaking in Switzerland, watchmaking in general, and some of the major brands which now dominate the horological landscape, it's hard not to wonder if the current situation and present conditions might not look very different if history had been changed in some respects. It has been said that the flapping of the wings of a butterfly may eventually engender a hurricane (or as Homer Simpson once put it when marooned in the days of the dinosaurs by a time-traveling toaster, "That was just one little insignificant mosquito, that can't change the future ... right?"), and what might alterations in even greater historical events in the past engender in the present in terms of drastic differences to the horological landscape? Let's jump into an imaginary time machine, fiddle with the past, and see what happens.

You Talk Louis XIV Into Not Revoking The Edict Of Nantes

A key event, although certainly not the only defining one, in bringing watchmaking to Geneva was the revocation of the Edict Of Nantes, which had given French Protestants considerable freedom and autonomy and which marked the end of the French wars of religion when it was signed by King Henry IV in 1598. The wars had led many French Protestants to seek refuge in other countries, including Switzerland, and many left well before the Edict Of Fontainebleau was signed by Louis XIV, which stripped French Protestants of their rights and made their persecution a matter of official policy. This was something the Sun King undertook in order to cement his reputation as an absolute monarch, and the result was the almost total expulsion of Protestants from France.

The exodus had already begun in the 1500s, but the Edict Of Fontainebleau made it abundantly clear that remaining on French soil was a non-starter, and the Protestants fled in droves to England, Germany, and Switzerland. Particularly in Geneva, the combination of an influx of skilled clock and watchmakers along with the passing of sumptuary laws which forbade jewelry-making – historically a key Genevan industry – combined to make watchmaking take a firm root, first in Geneva, and then in the Jura mountains, in cities like La-Chaux-de-Fonds and Neuchâtel.

Now, suppose you were to hop in your time machine and appear in a blinding flash of light in the Sun King's bedchamber, on the night of October 21, 1685 – the night before the Edict Of Fontainbleu is signed. Wasting no time, you convince the terrified monarch that you are a divine presence (you briefly consider calling yourself  "Darth Vader, from the planet Vulcan" but decide that the bewildered king would probably miss the joke) and tell him that far from ensuring the consolidation of his power, the revocation of the Edict Of Nantes will result in economic hardships that will set the stage for the downfall of the monarchy itself in just one hundred or so years. Convinced and shaken, Louis XIV refuses to sign the Edict Of Fontainebleau. The Protestant diaspora never happens and without it, Geneva – which still passes its sumptuary laws – never becomes a watchmaking capitol. On a small scale, watchmaking still happens, but there is a great reliance on components sourced from over the border in France, and Besançon, rather than Geneva, becomes the great European watchmaking center. The fashion for thin watches, which begins in the early 1800s, maintains the ascendancy of French watchmaking and Geneva gradually fades into horological obscurity. 

By the time you get back to the 21st century, the city is still known for many things – you haven't stopped Mary Shelley from summering at the Villa Dodati and writing Frankenstein – but it's a town almost entirely devoted to banking, international diplomacy, the making of expensive chocolates, and an incredibly competitive and fetishistic pizza culture. On the other hand, you read that the 102nd Grand Salon Internationale Des Horlogers will be taking place in Paris and that the press and retailers are already complaining about shameless price gouging from everyone from the Ritz Hotel on down ...

Hans Wilsdorf Stays In London

After a few days to get used to the shocking idea that Swiss watchmaking is not a thing, you gradually accommodate yourself to the notion and accept the fact that there are a whole host of names that you once thought of as established, which simply never had a chance to come into existence. The French watchmaker Lip, on the other hand, is now an international powerhouse, but you also notice that one very notable name is still around. Almost the first thing you do is see how your meddling with the past has affected Rolex and to your amazement, it has affected the company very little – although it's now based in Besançon, along with the Rolex Foundation, which supports, among other things, the sprawling campus of the French National School Of Watchmaking. You consider in your mind the staggering effects which you have already had on watchmaking history (and you are such a watchmaking fanatic that you scarcely notice other little things either, such as the fact that the French Revolution never happened and the United States is still part of the British Commonwealth) and think you really ought to leave well enough alone, but the urge to tinker finally overcomes you and you pop into your Wayback Machine for a little visit to a gentleman just starting out in business in London named Hans Wilsdorf. 

You have nothing more sinister in mind than seeing what happens if he sets up Rolex in London instead of Switzerland – after all, watchmaking would be immeasurably enriched by two giants of watchmaking rather than one, and you have a sentimental fondness for English watchmaking as well – but you are about to find out the truth of that adage about the best-laid plans of mice and men.

Wilsdorf is not going to be swayed by appeals to the preservation of a monarchy; instead, you'll have to persuade him by appealing equally to his desire to make a name for himself and to his acumen as a businessman. You materialize in front of the offices of Wilsdorf & Davis in London in 1907 and notice, much to your surprise, that the phlegmatic Londoners going about their business don't seem to notice your time machine popping into existence at all – it is as if it is so improbable that it simply cannot be allowed, and therefore, they just ignore it completely.

Striding into the office, you confront Hans Wilsdorf at his desk, show him your Rolex Submariner, and point out the fact that it says "Swiss Made" on it. Convinced by this of the truth of your assertion that you come from an alternate universe, Wilsdorf listens raptly as you paint a picture of a possible future in which the incredible commercial success of Rolex single-handedly revives the moribund British watchmaking industry, and moreover, gives British industry in general a point of pride and a rallying cry which helps preserve British industrial might in the 20th century. Awed by the possibilities, Wilsdorf strikes his desk with his fist and says that he will never allow a French (or Swiss, though in this timeline it is highly unlikely) mechanism to tick inside his watches, and he thanks you for giving him the name "Rolex" for his new independent watch company. You go outside, contemplating paradoxes and circularity, to find a policeman who tells you menacingly to "move this 'ere motor o' yours, which it's blockin' the street, eh?" and you return to the 21st century.

Alas, you find that changing history is, as you should have known from the first outing, replete with unexpected consequences. Rolex does extraordinarily well at first, and Wilsdorf makes millions supplying watches and clocks to the Allies during the First World War. However, he finds things beginning to lag during the 1930s, and there is no doubt that after the Second World War, the company is struggling. The biggest problem, as it turns out, is the American market – American watchmaking returns with a vengeance once the war is over, and with the French never quite developing the brand for precision watchmaking that the Swiss enjoyed (before you started scrambling timelines), the American watch industry, led by Elgin, Hamilton, and Waltham, becomes the byword for precision watchmaking. By the 1970s, hammered by the quartz crisis, the company is a shadow of its former self, and by the time you return in the 21st century, you read sadly that the firm is in dire straits, having committed the blunder of claiming that a movement in one of its new watches, which was largely manufactured by an American supplier, is "in-house." Also, Hamilton Submariners are commanding wacky prices at auction, especially with sun-kissed "cappuccino" dials.

Abraham Louis Breguet, Inventor Of ... Existentialism

Chastened by the far-reaching effects of your travels through time, and staggered by the failure of your attempt to reproduce the success Rolex enjoyed in Switzerland in the original timeline in the UK, you decide to try something on a bit smaller scale – a little harmless tourism. This time, you bethink yourself of one of fine watchmaking's most important and essential inventions: the tourbillon. Attempting to alter history, you decide, is for greater minds than yours, but nobody could blame you for wanting to meet one of horology's greatest minds – what could possibly go wrong?

The tourbillon, you recall, was invented by Abraham Louis Breguet, and in the (badly altered) timeline you now inhabit, he is still its inventor, although the circumstances of its invention are obscure. Though the French Revolution never occurred, there was still considerable unrest in France in the late 1700s, and Breguet still goes back to Switzerland in 1793 (after having still become a little too chummy with Marat) and still goes from there to England. You recall that Breguet has, by 1795, certainly invented the tourbillon, and you decide to visit London while Breguet is there visiting his friend and counterpart, the great English watchmaker John Arnold. Arnold and Breguet were very close (Arnold's son apprenticed with Breguet) and you look forward to meeting the two gentlemen with great excitement. 

Materializing with your characteristic flash and bang in front of the premises of Arnold & Son in 1794, on a chilly fall evening, you find to your great delight that the two men are sharing a glass of excellent port by candlelight, under a portrait of George III, and that open before them are a couple of drawings upon which you can see diagrams of what looks like Breguet's most important invention: the tourbillon. Bursting in on the two unsuspecting horologists, you wring them both by the hand (knocking over the port) and stammer out a salutation, expressing what enormous pleasure it gives you to make their acquaintance in person. 

Excitedly, you show them both your Breguet tourbillon wristwatch (the reference 5367, extra-plat, bien sûr) and relate to Breguet what fame its invention will bring him. Breguet, amazed and intrigued, says that it brings him an infinite degree of pride to know that his invention will become so widespread and contribute so immeasurably to the pursuit of high precision in horology. You laugh and remark that, in fact, the tourbillon in the future will become known not so much for its contributions to accuracy, but rather, for its use as a kind of expensive visual amusement for connoisseurs who want a more visually dazzling wristwatch. Breguet, devastated by this revelation, begins to start hitting the port pretty hard, and despite Arnold's attempts to assure him that the tourbillon is still a remarkable invention, the Master refuses to be consoled. Seeing nothing for it but to join them, the three of you proceed in making a significant dent in the firkin of port in a storage room behind the office, and by the time you leave, Arnold is snoring gently in his seat, and Breguet is looking with eyes of contemplative and infinite sadness at his drawings. You slip out the door, but not before Breguet glances up at you and murmurs, "Sic transit gloria mundi, eh, monsieur?" 

You wake up the next morning with a vicious hangover and stagger to your computer to discover that, once again, history has been upset. Breguet never invents the tourbillon (Arnold's son patents a "whirling-about device for improvements in chronometry", but never actually makes one) and instead, he throws himself into making large numbers of simple but sturdy watches which can be worn anywhere and tolerate much abuse. The trauma of your visit also induces him to invent Existentialism a hundred years early, and he is as famous for authoring the incomprehensible Being And Nothingness And Marketing as he is for watchmaking. Also, it seems that early Breguet Submariners are very collectible and command high prices at auction, especially with sun-bleached "mochaccino" dials.

Nicolas G. Hayek Sends You Back To The Future

Taking everything into consideration, you decide that perhaps you would be better off getting out of the time travel business, and you set about resetting the timeline. This turns out to be a relatively simple matter, as all you have to do is go back and meet with your past self just after you invent the time machine, but before you start using it to play god with susceptible monarchs and honest horologists. Wracked with guilt, you manage to persuade past you to forego any meddling and to confine time travel to minor indiscretions like starting investment accounts for a pittance and collecting handsomely on the payoffs a hundred years later, and you find that the timeline, on the whole, is back to normal (and that your extensive vintage Rolex collection is valuable again). With the proceeds of your ill-gotten wealth, you travel the world to find spirituality, devote yourself to meditation, and give up all your horological activities, selling your collection or donating it to impecunious enthusiasts anonymously, to avoid the taint of ego-gratification. You keep, for old time's sake, just one watch: a colorful robin's-egg blue quartz Swatch, with bright orange hands. 

Then, one day, in the fullness of time, you find the itch to travel coming upon you once again, and you dust off the old time machine for one last go before shuffling off this mortal coil. You decide that you'd like to see Geneva, but as it was when you were a young man, fresh from University and with your life ahead of you –  1984 or so. Setting the dials on the Wayback Machine, you dematerialize from your remote, austere retreat in – oh, let's say, the Canadian Rockies – and with the usual flash and faint bang of several cubic meters of air being abruptly displaced, reappear in Geneva.

You have arrived at dusk on a quiet Sunday in August, and a cool breeze coming off the lake soothes and refreshes. Alas, not all is to remain peaceful – your arrival has been observed by an astonished looking gentleman with sharp eyes, impressive brows, and a large cigar, taking his evening stroll. He hurries over to you, and you, in no mood to dissemble, and with a firm belief he will not believe you anyway, tell him you have come from the future. To your surprise, he takes you at your word and invites you to his pied-a-tèrre, just a few steps off the Quai du Montblanc, for a little nip of eau-de-vie de gentiane or so. The hour passes convivially, and the host, who has discretely avoided asking difficult questions, asks you about your Swatch. "Oh this old thing," you laugh, and in rough outline, you sketch the history of the Swatch and its dramatic effect on the fortunes of watchmaking in Switzerland. When you finish, there is a long silence, and then your host erupts in laughter. "Well," he says, "that is quite a story. I wonder what the press would think if they got ahold of it. Well, I must not detain you," he goes on, and he sees you back to your machine. Just before you press the lever for the return home, you feel as if you ought to recognize the fellow but have no idea why. It is not until you wake up the next morning (with a crippling eau-de-vie de gentiane headache and a feeling that you have been pouring furniture varnish over your tongue) that you realize who it is you were talking to.

A quick hunt on the Internet confirms your suspicion, and you shake your head in astonishment at the amazing coincidence. Then you remember your Swatch – still on your wrist. You look up at the article you have found – a somewhat random one from Neue Zürcher Zeitung  from several years ago, in which the Chairman of the Swatch Group discusses many things. He talks about the state of the industry, the state of the Swiss economy; he rails at the meretriciousness of bankers. Then, towards the end of the interview, he is asked wherever he got the idea for the Swatch. "After all," the interviewer says, "it was by no means a given that you would revitalize the Swiss watch industry – when SSIH and ASUAG failed in the early 1980s, it seemed that the only logical choice would be to dissolve the companies to pay off their creditors, from which you could have profited handsomely. The Swatch wristwatch seems a most unlikely concept under the circumstances, and you could have easily simply gone ahead and presided over the selling off of their assets, rather than take on the quixotic task of revitalizing Swiss fine watchmaking. In such a case, watchmaking would probably have continued in Switzerland to some degree but greatly diminished and with an irrecoverable emphasis on inexpensive quartz. Wherever did you get the idea?"

Hayek chuckles, leans in a confidential way toward the interviewer, and says, coyly, "Why, you know, funny you should ask. It just came to me. You might say it just appeared out of thin air."

The latest chapter in the watch-show saga awaited us in our inboxes this morning. The organizers of Baselworld aim to be back in 2021 with a Basel-based show that will be presented under the banner HourUniverse. But that's not all: Watches & Wonders, whose planned move to Geneva this year was forestalled by the COVID-19 pandemic and was instead held digitally, will go forward as a physical show at Shanghai's West Bund Art Center September 9-13 of this year. It will also have a digital component. 

So just what are these two shows? According to the press release from the MCH Group – organizers of the erstwhile Baselworld Fair and the new HourUniverse – the new "platform will be digitally active throughout the year and will host an annual live show." Moreover, the new show will also have a distinct focus on the consumer. "The new concept is a B2B2C meeting point that places the customer at the heart of its focus, reversing the order of the past," the statement said. "The entire platform is thought out and designed around the customer. This applies to all players of the distribution chain, traditional and online retailers, including those of the CPO (certified pre-owned)."

The first live incarnation of HourUniverse will take place in April 2021, and the exact dates, which have not yet been disclosed, will be aligned with those of Watches & Wonders Geneva.

Regarding Watches & Wonders, the new China-based show marks a homecoming of sorts. It had its start in Hong Kong before moving to the Miami Design District.

Watches & Wonders Shanghai will include exhibitions from A. Lange & Söhne, Baume & Mercier, Cartier, IWC, Jaeger-LeCoultre, Panerai, Parmigiani Fleurier, Piaget, Purnell, Roger Dubuis, and Vacheron Constantin. All but two of these brands, Parmigiani Fleurier and Purnell, are owned by the Richemont Group. The physical show is by invitation only. However, all of the watches shown in Shanghai will be able to be seen on the watchesandwonders.com digital platform. 

And, of course, there is another watch show on the calendar. The upcoming Geneva Watch Days, which will see a number of brands show new releases August 26-29.

Amid today's MCH news, it's worth mentioning that it was reported late last month that the MCH Group, whose trade-show business has been badly affected by the global COVID-19 pandemic, is in negotiations for a potential investment from the Murdoch family.

Subscribe to the show: (Apple Podcasts, SoundCloud, Google Play and Spotify). Already heard it once or twice? Please leave a short review here, and tell us what topics you'd like us to chat about (or email thegreynato@gmail.com).

Buckle up, baby, because episode 119 brings the goods. Jason is back from an amazing camping and diving trip on Lake Superior, and James is dropping expensive camera gear and has convinced himself he can fix it. But wait, there's more: We’ve got a great chat with Analog Shift’s James Lamdin! Want to go deep on interesting vintage watches, how to wear gold, and the new Ford Bronco – you know the drill – just press play. 

Jason and James take a beat to unpack Mr. Lamdin’s start in the watch industry, the impact of his grandfather on his taste in watches, and why the sunroof on his E39 M5 has been giving him some trouble. Stay in the mix for an amazing set of final notes that has Jason looking (very) South and James thinking of the old-school splendor of New York City Oysters. Thanks so much for listening! 

Show notes...

1:24
Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore

5:50
The Bermuda shipwreck

12:24
Neowise Comet

13:52
Sinn U50

15:59
Godox TT600 Manual Flash

22:45
Jason’s Sharkhunter Doxa T.Graph

24:45
Analog Shift

30:25
Raise The Titanic

57:00
James’ E39 M5

58:40
The new Ford Bronco

1:03:00
Baja Boot story

1:11:20
"The Splendid and the Vile" - Eric Larson

1:12:28
Operation Odessa

1:17:00
The Equal Justice Initiative

1:17:55
James Lamdin on Instagram

1:18:55
Sarah Airriess Antarctica blog

1:21:50
Oyster-tecture via 99% Invisible

Quick Take

The Frogman was made for divers as the name suggests, and it is a special model in the G-Shock lineup featuring extra tough ISO-certified 200m water resistance. The first Frogman debuted in 1993, and it has become one of the pillars for the cult success of G-Shock. This also was the first-ever G-Shock to receive an official nickname of its own, and the series has featured cutting-edge technologies and new construction techniques over the years.

The GWF-A1000 Frogman is the first analog model in the series, and it features a large white handset against a dark dial, showing off its superior legibility. The watch employs a brand-new carbon monocoque case with one-piece construction (i.e., no removable case back), which shaves 22 grams of weight from its predecessor (GWF-D1000). The world time, tide graph, and dive time functions are displayed with analog hands, and you'll use the crown on the right side of the case to operate them. Going analog introduced a crown to the series for the first time, and that enables more intuitive handling.

First Impression

You may not realize that this is indeed a Frogman at first glance. Nearly unchanged asymmetric case design with digital displays defined the series for over 25 years. I, for one, felt a strange unfamiliarity when I saw the watch, to be honest.

The Frogman is actually the only watch in the entire G-Shock lineup that Casio officially calls a diver's watch. Although all G-Shock models are rated for 20 ATM water resistance, the Frogman is the only ISO-certified diver in the lineup. With the last iteration, GWF-D1000, the Frogman gained a depth gauge (triple sensor), which could display diving depth in 10cm increments. I think that was a fitting function on a digital watch, and the watch, which incorporated inputs from marine rescue professionals, could compete head-on with diver computers. From the feature-set point of view, the GWF-D1000 was Casio's ultimate Frogman. 

On the other hand, when you just look at diver's watches out there as a wristwatch, an analog dial is obviously the gold standard, at least for mechanical pieces. Although the Frogman is a quartz watch, I think this new model enters the realm of diver's watches in the conventional sense. If you think of this piece as Casio's new pursuit of a "G-Shock diver's watch" instead of an extension of the existing Frogman line, this analog interface makes total sense. With this model, the Frogman leaps out of its well-established branding of over 20 years to take the real first step to becoming a diver's watch as a wristwatch.

Now, I believe there was another reason for Casio to push their analog watch development. Ever since the debut of the Gravitymaster GPW-1000 in 2014, the company has been busy developing high-end models of each category with a combination of their well-established solar atomic timekeeping and an analog display. The brand has released flagship watches for land, sea, and sky, such as Gravitymaster and Mudmaster, and despite being relatively new collections, they are gaining popularity among G-Shock fans.

For the company, the last remaining challenge was the "sea" aspect. Of course, there is the Gulfmaster, which came out of the efforts I described above, but when you think of "sea" in the G-Shock lineup, the Frogman takes the prime spot. I think that incorporating analog hands to this model was something Casio had been hoping to achieve in recent years. In reality, creating an ISO-certified 200m diver isn't an easy task. Putting a high-power motor to drive those large analog hands on top of all those sensors, Bluetooth, and LED backlight must have been a serious challenge.

I think Casio's real technological strength lies in their integration and miniaturization expertise. With wristwatches, you are always dealing with size constraints, and there is a limitation to the features you can add no matter how brilliant they are. And because of that, it is always exciting to see a high-spec watch in a small package, and Casio made that happen with the Frogman — it's a totally separate debate if this watch can be considered small, though. Casio also managed to keep the price under $1,000 despite the addition of a carbon case and analog display, and that is a serious value proposition compared to its predecessor (although the depth gauge has been omitted). Fortunately for us, the digital Frogman isn't gone for good just yet. I think we still have time to compare and decide between this watch and its digital counterpart.

All in all, this new Frogman is a clear and decisive evolution of the series, and it is indeed the Sea King of G-Shock.

Frogmen Over The Years

The Basics

Brand: G-SHOCK
Model: Frogman
Reference Number: GWF-A1000

Diameter: 56.7 x 53.3mm
Thickness: 19.7mm
Case Material: Carbon monocoque + metal ring
Dial Color: Black
Indexes: Bar
Lume: Yes, with bright LED backlight
Water Resistance: 200m
Strap/Bracelet: Fluoroelastomer strap

The Movement

Caliber: Tough Solar, Multi-Band 6 atomic timekeeping, Bluetooth mobile connectivity.
Functions: Hours, minutes, seconds, world time, stopwatch, tide graph.
Additional Details: Automatically checks and realigns hands, dive log up to 30 dives.

Pricing & Availability

Price: $800
Availability: Now available.
Limited Edition: No, regular production.

This article first appeared on HODINKEE.jp, which you can visit clicking here.

Whether you're into gold or stainless steel, we've got you covered this week. If you're into chronographs, or more specifically, gilt dial Pre-Extra-Forts from Eberhard, Ref. 2004 Breitling Top Times, and Movado M95s, we've got you covered this week. Should you be after an early Datejust with a uniquely printed dial, or even a Universal Genève with a very small dial — guess what? We've got you covered this week. 

All this to say, you're in for a good one.

Eberhard Pre-Extra-Fort

Many think the oversized watch is largely a product of the 21st century, and while there are indeed countless that emerged out of this new era, they've always been around in one way or another. There's this narrative that such references have historically had a quality of anomalous otherness, but considering the number of early oversized models produced by different watchmakers, a not so insignificant demand has seemingly always been there. Because of this, the whole notion of "vintage proportions" has started to make less sense to me lately. Whether you love them or hate them, their lengthy history would suggest that these sizeable timepieces aren't going anywhere anytime soon.

Truly high-quality examples of top-tier Eberhard watches almost never surface, so when they do, it's something to get excited about. Of all their models, the Pre-Extra-Forts embody the watchmaker's unique approach, weaving together design traits both spartan and heavily stylized. This particular example demonstrates this idea through the pairing of a hard-wearing, 40mm stepped bezel case in stainless steel, with an intricately crafted gloss gilt dial. Just as you'd expect, these relics of the 1940s have some serious heft and presence on the wrist, but it's one of substance and taste, unlike many of the modern committee-designed, marketing-guided monstrosities of a short while back. 

In that it's always a shame to see cases with powerful architecture fall victim to the polishing wheel, it's a treat to see this one preserved properly, housing the Cal. 16000 movement in singular style. Under ideal circumstances, with the right watch available, I'll always opt for a perfectly glossy dial, though I don't mind the patina that's developed on this one. I don't know if I can get behind the description of it as "tropical," but it's a properly good looking piece, and there's no denying that. The way I see it, you should do yourself a favor and skip the Extra-Fort – it's the Pre-Extra-Fort you really want. 

A collector based in the Netherlands is selling this chronograph on the Chronocentric forum to make room for an incoming weekend car. This one will set you back €7,995. 

1956 Rolex Datejust Ref. 6605

Getting deeper into the collecting game affords the opportunity to hone in on the specific details one admires in a vintage timepiece, albeit not for cheap, as many will eagerly attest to. Over the years, I've learned that early Datejusts simply do it for me – specifically, the early examples. In my opinion, their dials are far more elegant than the still elegant later offerings. This is because, for a brief period, the Wilsdorf brand adorned dials with more compact applications of text, in less heavily weighted typefaces. Yes, the result is admittedly less legible branding, but with a prominently placed gold coronet not even a stone's throw away, there's no mistaking it for anything other than a Rolex. 

You're looking at one such early Datejust, which corresponds with the reference number 6605. This one dates back to 1956, and as you'll notice, it was produced with a brilliant 18K yellow-gold case and a matching champagne dial. All of this is traced by a set of "Alpha" style hands, which pass by three lines of text reading "SUPERLATIVE CHRONOMETER BY OFFICIAL TEST." If you've gone far enough down the rabbit hole, you'll know this to be different from the usual "SUPERLATIVE CHRONOMETER OFFICIALLY CERTIFIED," making this example among a select few to be given this different designation. 

In the provenance report provided by the auction house, they've said this printing configuration is unique to the reference, but in my experience, the same can be found on other watches, including those that we've looked at in the past. Regardless, I think we can all agree that it's a wildly seldom-seen dial variant and the cherry on top of an already fascinating watch to begin with, given its only three-year production run and reference-specific Cal. 1065 movement. All that combined with the funky wording definitely makes for one compelling piece, if you ask me. 

Bonhams will be offering this Datejust in their Fine Watches sale taking place on August 5 in London. This piece's estimate has been set £7,000 — £9,000, but where it ends up is anyone's guess. Get a closer look at it and the rest of the catalog here.

Breitling Top Time Ref. 2004

Should you wish to know what you really think of certain watches, play a little game of word association and see what happens. Certain watches mentioned amongst the right people have the potential to evoke outrage at memories of exorbitant service costs, but for many, the mention of some pieces now evokes little emotion at all. In my case, this is true of several vintage chronographs of which I've seen way too many worn-out pieces lately, including the Breitling Top Time. For whatever reason, there's a lot of junkers out there right now, so I thought we'd get back on track to Top Time excitement with the feature of a certifiably dope example. 

For the most part, Breitling's production of the Valjoux 7730-powered Top Time was made up of chronographs cased in stainless steel, and plated 18K yellow gold. Despite being a fine timepiece, it just wasn't perfectly aligned with the luxury market, though Breitling still did manufacture more luxe variants. This is one such example, with a case crafted out of solid 18K yellow gold, with the clearly visible hallmarks to prove it. These are far less common than their steel and steel-based counterparts, and they were even fitted with pulsations scale dials on occasion, though today's example has the standard tachymeter. 

What makes this example stand out, and more desirable than a standard variant, is not only the gold case, but also the way in which it's been preserved. To my eye, the case looks to remain unpolished, and its dial appears flawless, indicating that it was looked after with great care in the past. Further confirming this is the presence of the original box, papers, and manuals, leading me to believe this was known by its original owner to be a properly special watch, which is to be somewhat expected anytime solid gold enters the equation. For a seller that doesn't look to be much of a watch dealer, this was definitely a nice find, and it ought to scratch the itch of a lucky collector. 

An eBay seller based out of New Jersey has this Breitling listed with an asking price of $4,599. You've also got the option to make an offer, so why not start there? 

Universal Genève Ref. 100110/1

In my mind, any vintage watch design that contradicted the archetypal, two or three-handed analog display is worthy of praise. That's because it's indicative of a manufacture's audacity within a staunchly tradition-valuing industry, in the context of a time when sensory overload and less conventional designs weren't commonplace. All this to say, oddballs are cool as can be, and the upper echelon of oddities is only more so. With many quick to deem Universal Genève collecting an unadulterated hype scheme, I thought we'd continue with a piece that surely proves the brand's objective genius, and in doing so disproves the naysayers. 

While it might not be at the top of every UG-crazed collector's hit list, the Ref. 100110 will always be one of the brand's most daring designs. As you can see, it's a regularly sized piece at 35mm across, but the aperture for the crystal and dial itself takes up a mere fraction of that, with a second aperture displaying the date. Without a printed logo, and only text reading "Universal Genève" above the hand stack, this is an earlier example, though like all other examples, it's cased in a near-rose, 18K yellow gold. It's just one of those watches that goes boldly against the grain, and for that reason, I'm in love. 

The only thing I'm not in love with here is what looks to be a slight spot of damage towards the center of the hand stack on the dial's surface, which likely happened while haphazardly removing the hands during service – that, and the crown which I believe to have been replaced at some point. All this to say, these aren't deal-breaking flaws, especially considering the infrequency with which these come to market. You could most definitely track down a more fitting crown if it's really bothering you, but even as is, it's a piece to consider over the weekend.

An eBay seller in Brazil has this UG listed in an auction that'll come to a close on the last day of the month. At the time of publishing, the high bid stands at $370. Get in on the action by following the link.

Movado M95

I'm not letting you go just yet – not without taking a look at an outstanding Movado, that is. For my money, they made some of the most compelling chronographs of the 1940s and '50s, and even with their marked appreciation in recent years, there's still a tremendous amount of proverbial bang to be had for your hard-earned buck. Much of the appeal comes down to the epic architecture of the movement.

What I like about this example is that it's aged attractively and was similarly configured upon leaving the factory way back when. These were produced in a number of variants, and naturally, not all were created equally. With accenting, squiggly chronograph hands in red, and a five-minute track to match, this is definitely one of the more sporty M95's. Only furthering my point are the luminous hands and numerals found on the dial. One of the many joys of vintage chronograph collecting is finding unique iterations of celebrated references, and I'd argue this is one of them.

Between the Taubert Freres case and three-register Cal. 95M beneath its stainless steel caseback, this one has lots going for it. Luckily, it's all been visibly well-maintained over decades of wear, as evidenced by the sharp case. The dial isn't exactly one hundred percent flawless, but there aren't any prominent markings of note, so the only thing you'll be distracted by is the beauty of the watch itself. With the market still in a state of flux, it's becoming increasingly more difficult to find noteworthy chronographs in this price bracket, so hit the link if you're interested in skipping past the hunt.

The Italian collector who goes by @matt.watches on Instagram is offering this piece from his personal stash. It's been priced at €5,900, and more information can be found in the listing post.

The Horological Society of New York (HSNY) announces the appointment of actor and horological designer Aldis Hodge as its newest Trustee. Hodge is an award-winning actor, famous for his roles in movies such as The Invisible Man, Clemency, Hidden Figures, and Straight Outta Compton. In addition, Hodge is an accomplished horologist who serves on the academy of the Grand Prix d'Horlogerie de Genève. The Society’s ten Trustees play an important role in the operation of the organization, as they are responsible for ensuring that it continues to uphold the interests of the public.

In addition, Nicholas Manousos (formerly HSNY President) succeeds Edwin Hydeman as Executive Director. Manousos also serves on the Academy of the Grand Prix d'Horlogerie de Genève and is the Technical Editor for HODINKEE. John Teifert, Technical Manager for LVMH Watches & Jewelry, assumes the role of President, and John Davis, Director of Service Operations, Rolex Watch USA, assumes the role of Vice President. Teifert and Davis succeed in their roles as Vice President and Trustee, respectively.

Founded in 1866, HSNY has navigated through world wars, depressions, and pandemics, while always maintaining its mission to advance the art and science of horology. As New York City begins to re-open, HSNY’s team is focused on making a positive contribution to horology through its educational and philanthropic programs. To date in 2020, HSNY has awarded $155,000 in financial assistance to watchmaking students, schools, and professionals.

"The challenges we face in this tumultuous year have accelerated change across all aspects of the watchmaking industry," said HSNY’s new Executive Director Manousos. "I am looking forward to meeting those challenges head-on with HSNY’s team."

"It is an honor and a privilege to join the prestigious Board of Trustees for such an impactful organization," said Hodge. "It is my hope that, in my time at HSNY, I will be able to be an asset in advancing and enhancing the appreciation, education, and love of horology around the world."

If you don't follow the extremely expensive and arcane world of competitive yachting, you probably haven't heard of the America's Cup, which is the world's oldest international sporting trophy, having first been run all the way back in 1851. Coincidentally, this is just a few years after Louis Brandt founded La Generale Watch Co. which would go on to produce the first Omega watches, which were so successful that the Omega line eventually became its own brand in 1903. Believe it or not, Switzerland, which is about as landlocked a country as you can get, has nonetheless a very strong sailing tradition thanks to its enormous glacial lakes – in the summer months, Lake Geneva and Lake Neuchâtel are swarming with sailboats – and also has its own yachting team. Alinghi is a newcomer, especially compared to the longevity of the America's Cup. The team, founded in 1994, represents the Swiss yacht club Société Nautique de Genève, and surprised a very strong field of competitors in 2003 when it succeeded in defeating New Zealand and taking home the Cup. 

The team is the brainchild of Swiss entrepreneur Ernesto Bertarelli, and while it ultimately did not retain the Cup, which it gave up to the Golden Gate Yacht Club in 2010 after a successful defense in 2007, it has continued to participate very competitively in other international racing events, sailing the extremely fast and often very dangerous catamaran-hull hydrofoil racing yachts, which are capable going faster than the actual wind speed, and which can hit top speeds of 50 knots. The basic physics are straightforward – catamarans in general and hydrofoils in particular have far less wetted surface than monohull yachts as well as less mass, and with such dramatic reductions in weight and drag, they go like rockets. They are the F1 cars of yachting and, while measures have been taken in recent years to make them less hazardous to sail, they remain, like F1 cars, inherently dangerous, very high-tech, and extremely expensive.

As you might expect from a Swiss yacht club's international racing team, Alinghi has partnered with watch brands from the very beginning, starting with Audemars Piguet in 2003, and the Royal Oak Offshore Alinghis were large, regatta-timer chronographs which came in a wide variety of cases and designs, including the AP RO Team Alinghi Forged Carbon, which I believe was the first forged-carbon cased watch from anyone. Currently, Alinghi partners with Omega (the collaboration was announced in May of 2019), and the two have just announced a new watch – a new version of the Speedmaster Dark Side Of The Moon, which features design cues intended to reflect the high-tech world of modern competitive yachting, and which also has a little surprise under the hood.

Cosmetically, this is pretty much squarely in the mainstream of Dark Side Of The Moon design, with the signature ceramic bezel and 44.5mm case, along with a tachymeter scale calibrated in miles per hour. Although the watch is not specifically a countdown regatta timer, the minutes totalizer has been customized with a highlighted five-minute arc. Yachting enthusiasts, as well as regatta timer fans, will know that this is because the countdown before a race actually begins is critical; as the wind is blowing and the yachts are constantly in motion, it is impossible for them to wait in a stationary fashion at a starting line. Instead, a starting line is marked by an imaginary line drawn between two buoys, and the committee boat, which regulates the start, makes a signal (traditionally by firing a gun) which marks the beginning of a countdown to the actual start. Once the countdown is concluded, another signal is fired and at that moment the boats are free to cross the line. As whomever crosses first is often apt to win outright, barring accident or mishandling, the five minutes before the start are the scene of frantic maneuvering and frequent close calls. 

As I am neither a mariner nor a plutocrat, I have attended few regattas, and when I have done, it's because I was covering the race, but I find them very exciting and the boats extremely beautiful (sometimes too exciting – I happened to be a rail monkey a few years back on a gorgeous 1938 Sparkman & Stephens yawl, when another boat came close enough to our stern that you almost might have leapt from one deck to the other. Not wishing to seem chicken, I didn't say anything about it until afterwards, when I asked one of the crew if that wasn't a little close and he said, with feeling, "Yeah ... that was a little close.") 

Certainly, the cool dark glossiness of the Dark Side Of The Moon is a good match for the construction and engineering that goes into a racing hydrofoil. One of the more interesting features of the watch from a mechanical standpoint is revealed when you take a look at the movement through the caseback.

The movement is not, as is often the case with the DSOTM, the automatic co-axial caliber 9300, but rather, a version of the classic Moonwatch caliber 1861 (in this case carrying the number 1865). The movement as well as the dial of the watch have been laser-etched with patterns that reflect the carbon fiber construction of Alinghi's racing hydrofoils. Now, this is not the first time that an 1861 variant has gone into a DSOTM, but in general, the high tech case and bezel (the Dark Side Of The Moon was the first ceramic Moonwatch) have been matched with an equally technically forward-looking movement. The only other DSOTM I've been able to dig up that didn't use the 9300 is the Apollo 8 Dark Side Of The Moon, from 2018, which has an openworked version of the movement that's been given the rugged texture (on non-working surfaces, I hasten to add) of the lunar surface. You will probably have noticed by now that the hours sub-register has been replaced by the Alinghi logo, and there's a little Easter egg here as well – the logo is actually printed onto a disk, which rotates whenever the chronograph is in operation.

The use of a thinner movement also means that this is much flatter than usual for the Dark Side Of The Moon Watches, which typically come in at 44.25mm x 16.14mm. The DSOTM Alinghi is 13.80mm thick, which represents a significant height reduction (2.34mm) and should make for a much-altered wrist experience over the standard Dark Side Of The Moon watches.

That said, I think this is an interesting move. I also think this might be a watch that at first glance seems intended to appeal to a fairly small audience – yachting fans, obviously; folks interested in regatta timers, Swiss patriots who would be enthused about seeing Alinghi and Omega collaborating. However, if you like the Dark Side Of The Moon aesthetic but have found the case dimensions challenging, this might actually be a watch worth considering – as I've mentioned, an 1861-derived movement is a rarity in this design and it's both an interesting alternative from a design perspective, as well as something potentially of interest to Omega collectors looking for something a bit out of the ordinary run for the collection. (It is, notably, not a limited edition.) A yachting chronograph is always a bit of a niche proposition (either a little or a lot depending on the watch and the yacht), but seeing the 1865 here is a nice change of pace and offers a subtle but definite connection to the Speedmaster's origins as a timepiece for terrestrial, rather than celestial, pursuits.

The Omega Speedmaster Dark Side Of The Moon Alinghi: case, 44.25mm x 13.80mm, zirconium oxide ceramic, with ceramic bezel and Super-LumiNova tachymeter scale; box sapphire crystals front and back; water resistance, 5 bar/50 meters. Alinghi logo on start/stop pusher. Movement, Omega caliber 1865 (1861 base), hand-wound three-register chronograph with cam and lever switching system; mainplate with laser etched honeycomb design, chronograph bridge with laser etched carbon fiber design; frequency, 21,600 vph, running in 19 jewels; power reserve, 48 hours. Price, $10,800. 

Editor's note: Watch companies sometimes announce new products to the HODINKEE editorial team and the HODINKEE Shop at the same time. Please note that the editorial team and the Shop team produce their content independently of each other.

In March, with COVID-19 raging, René Weber, a financial analyst at Bank Vontobel in Zurich, predicted that Swiss watch exports for the year's second quarter would fall 40% in value compared to the same period in 2019. It was an unusually pessimistic forecast, and Weber got blowback about it. 

Weber, it turns out, was not nearly pessimistic enough. Data released last week by the Federation of the Swiss Watch Industry (FH) showed that exports dropped 62% between April and June.

New data from the FH and Switzerland's two largest watch groups, the Swatch Group and the Richemont Group, make it painfully clear that six months into the global coronavirus pandemic, the Swiss watch industry is in uncharted territory. The word "unprecedented" comes up a lot in Swiss watch circles.

"The Swiss watch industry experienced an unprecedented crisis in the first half of the year," the FH said in its statement announcing a 36% fall in Swiss watch export value to CHF6.87 billion ($7.21 billion) for the January through June period. Unit shipments fell 45% to just 5.5 million pieces.

Richemont cited "unprecedented levels of disruption" behind a 47% drop in group sales for the first quarter of its fiscal year ended in June.

And the Swatch Group marked an unprecedented milestone. For the first time since its founding in 1983, it reported a half-year loss. The red ink totaled CHF308 million ($323 million).

"The temporary halt in production and sales during the first half of the year had severe consequences [for] the Swiss watch industry, which will affect it for a long time," the FH warned. 

The new data is the best measure yet of the extent of the damage to the industry. Swiss watch exports were down for every global market but one in the first half. (That was tiny Oman, an anomaly with first-half exports up 75% this year and 137% over two years.) All of the other markets were down by double digits ranging from 15% (#2 China) to 57% (#30 India).

'Complete lockdowns'

"The decline," the FH notes, "reflects more the disruption and stark overall reduction in movements of goods than a real change in demand. Swiss watch exports began to fall sharply in March and then came to a halt in April and May."

The Swatch Group reinforced that point in a summary of the impact of the pandemic on its sales and operations. The crisis began, it said, with a "severe weakening in China in the last week of January.

"Government COVID-19 measures imposed around the globe impacted the group with full force as of February. Complete lockdowns were introduced in most countries, which led to forced closing of up to 80% of all retail stores worldwide at times (group stores and third-party stores). Only e-commerce distribution was partly feasible. Production of watches, jewelry and components was reduced to a minimum, and short-time work was introduced for a significant number of employees."

The Swatch Group responded to "the exceptional market situation" by closing 260 stores, resulting in the layoff of nearly 2,000 employees outside of Switzerland, 6.5% of its workforce. It said it cut costs in purchasing, production, marketing, and rents, but not R&D and training.

Richemont's sales for the brutal April through June period quantified the bleak landscape of a world in lockdown. Group sales totaled €1.99 billion ($2.19 billion), down from €3.74 billion ($4.11 billion) a year ago. Sales to Japan were down 64% versus 2019. Sales to the Americas (North and South) were down 61%; to Europe, 59%; and to the Middle East and Africa 38%. Sales to the Asia-Pacific region fared better at -29%.  (Richemont's "trading statement" only included sales results; there was no information about profitability for the quarter.)

The Asia-Pacific declines were lower because China eased its lockdown in April. As of June, only two markets in the world – mainland China and South Korea – showed any real signs of recovery, according to Swatch and Richemont.

First In, First Out

China, Switzerland's second-best market in 2020 after the U.S., was the first one hit by the coronavirus and the first to recover from it. Once China's government ended its full lockdown, the Swatch Group saw an immediate surge in sales in its retail stores in there, it said. They had fallen more than 80% during the lockdown, but jumped 76% in May and 60% in June compared to 2019.

Richemont, too, reported very strong retail sales in China for the quarter, as well as triple-digit increases in online sales. Total group sales in China were up 47% versus the April through June 2019 period. 

That sparked a spike in total Swiss watch exports to China in June. The FH reported that in June, "China saw a very sharp increase in demand for Swiss watches." Exports jumped an astonishing 48% for the month. (In contrast, the other members of Switzerland's Big Three markets – the U.S. and Hong Kong – dropped 57% and 55% for the month.)

South Korea, whose government imposed a limited lockdown, also experienced a surge of watch sales in May and June. Swatch Group combined wholesale and retail sales there jumped 22% in May and 34% in June. 

Is China's surge of watch sales in May and June a bellwether for other markets that emerge from coronavirus lockdowns?

A major factor behind the surge is that Chinese consumers, who drive the global travel retail business, can't travel abroad this year and are buying luxury products at home instead. This boosts sales in China, but hurts sales in markets favored by Chinese tourists, like Japan and Europe.

The Swatch Group considers China and South Korea bellwethers of what will happen when markets emerge from coronavirus lockdowns. "Consumer demand for group products continues to be strong," it says. The problem in the first half of the year is that "this demand could not be satisfied since the majority of distribution channels worldwide were forced to close."

The China model makes the Swatch Group optimistic about the second half of 2020. "The group's management is convinced that the sales and profit situation will improve quickly in the coming months, parallel to the easing of COVID-19 measures in the countries." As Swatch Group brands deliver new products to markets with pent-up demand, it says, "this will lead to increased production capacity in the third and fourth quarter." Despite its first-half loss of nearly a third of a billion dollars, the Swatch Group expects "a positive operating result for the full-year." 

A Long-term Process?

The FH, whose industry-wide purview is broader than the Swatch Group's, is not so gung-ho about the second half of the year. 

"The end of the first half marks not the end of a cycle," the FH stated in its report on the first-half results, "but a period of transition between an unparalleled shock and a slow return to normal." 

While acknowledging that the markets are uncertain and that forecasts about the timing and strength of a recovery "are still crude," the FH assessment is that post-COVID gains in China are not enough to revive the industry. 

"At a time when all eyes are on China, which is showing the first signs of a return to normal, there are still numerous factors affecting the recovery process," the FH said. "For the moment, other markets are showing no real signs of recovery. Hong Kong is practically at a standstill, suffering from both the consequences of the health crisis and its political situation.

"Overall, the return to normal will be a medium- or even long-term process."

"The United States is still being hit hard by the pandemic and Europe is suffering from the drastic negative impact on the travel retail sector. According to those involved, international travel will take three years to return to normal, creating a long-term obstacle to sales of luxury goods, including watches. 

"Similarly, the onshoring of consumption in China will accelerate, but will be spread over several years and will therefore not offset immediately the declines seen elsewhere.

"Overall, the return to normal will be a medium- or even long-term process," the FH says. "Watch exports are likely to reflect a market contraction of around 30% overall in 2020." That's in value. Unit shipments will be worse, falling to levels not seen since the 1940s, as we reported last month.

Of course, there will be "marked differences between key players," the FH notes.

It mentions no names, but big players, like the seven "billionaire brands" (i.e., watch brands with annual sales exceeding 1 billion Swiss francs) will weather the coronavirus storm, no matter how long it rages. (Those brands, ranked in order of estimated sales, are Rolex, Omega, Longines, Cartier, Patek Philippe, Tissot, and Audemars Piguet.)

At risk are smaller independent brands, who don't have the backing of the big Swiss watch groups, like Swatch, Richemont, and LVMH. Vontobel's Rene Weber, the not-pessimistic-enough pessimist, predicts there will be casualties. He told Switzerland's Neue Zürcher Zeitung newspaper in June, "Of the approximately 600 [Swiss] watch brands, 50 to 100 will have difficulty surviving this crisis." 

For the record, Weber, like the FH, predicts a 30% drop in Swiss exports this year. Which would be unprecedented.

Lead image via Wikimedia Commons

It was only last year that Grand Seiko announced a line of slim, hand-wound mechanical dress watches that debuted what has since become one of my favorite new case shapes from any watchmaker. These early examples included the SBGK002, the SBGK004, the SBGK006, and a model that Stephen spent a week with, the SBGK005. 

Beyond the beautiful, slender, retro-inspired case shape that seemed to skirt the line between a traditional round dress case and a tonneau, the new Elegance "Slim" watches had a few things in common. Most obvious among them was the use of the new 9S63 manually wound movement with small seconds and power reserve, and in select cases, beautiful lacquer dials featuring maki-e accents. Today, we have the newest evolution in the Grand Seiko Elegance story, the manually wound SBGW262. It too comes in a slim and discreet 39mm by 11.6mm case. But unlike the above-mentioned watches from last year, at the heart of this newest timepiece is the caliber 9S64, with displays for the hours, the minutes, and the seconds from the central axis. 

As with the great majority of Grand Seiko watches, the SBGW262 has a way of drawing you into its dial.  It's no secret that Grand Seiko has come to be viewed by a great many watch enthusiasts as one of the premier practitioners of thoughtful dial design and execution. Grand Seiko has earned this reputation using techniques common to traditional watchmaking centers – note the immaculate hand-polishing of this watch's handset, for example. But they also achieve it with the application of distinctly Japanese métiers and crafts. It's these special details that many Grand Seiko enthusiasts, myself included, have come to regard as part of what makes Grand Seiko really different. In the SBGW262, you see that difference in the black urushi lacquer dial with tremendous depth and raised maki-e accents. The hour markers that you see here are made of powdered platinum, and the numerals at the cardinal positions are crafted from powdered 24-karat gold. We saw similar dials in the two rose-gold examples that came out last year, the SBGK002 and the SBGK004, though the use of two additional maki-e numerals in the SBGW262 makes for a dial that is more costly to produce.

Finishing surfaces with urushi lacquer, a natural substance derived from the lacquer tree, is a form of craftsmanship that can be found in a number of traditional Japanese products including small boxes for jewelry, furniture, and even miso soup bowls. Not all urushi lacquer is of equal quality, though. Domestic Japanese lacquer accounts for a small percentage of the lacquer used in Japan. For the SBGW262, Grand Seiko has used some of the finest urushi lacquer it could find. The dials of the SBGW262 come from lacquer taken from trees grown in and around the town of Joboji, not far from Mount Iwate, the mountain whose imposing presence dominates the view from Grand Seiko's Shizukuishi Watch Studio. To make the dials, the lacquer is mixed with iron to give it the jet-black color that you see above and below. And the indexes and numerals are also produced in an artisanal way. They have been built up on the dial from powdered metal using the maki-e technique, which translates as "sprinkled picture."

From the first time I saw Grand Seiko's new dress watch case, it struck me as a beautiful design, and my first instinct was to classify it as a tonneau shape in the vein of certain watch cases popular during the 1970s. But upon looking closer, I came to realize that my initial impression was, well, just an impression, and one that failed to fully capture this design. Looking below at the raised, polished bezel and the downward-sloping lugs, one can see that this is an intricately designed case that seems to blend elements of a traditional round dress watch with that of a tonneau. 

One of the criticisms sometimes made of Grand Seiko mechanical watches, even those billed as dressy, is that they are slightly thick relative to their diameter. I happen to own another watch in the Grand Seiko Elegance Collection, the 39.5mm x 13.7mm SBGM221, and I agree that this criticism does appear to hold some water. I've not personally found my watch to wear large, though. Much to the contrary, I'd say that my SBGM221 has a presence that allows it to be worn as a casual daily driver or as a dress watch – heck, I got married wearing this watch, but it's also one of the few timepieces that I'll routinely reach for in the fall and winter, pairing it with jeans and a sweater. 

The watch that we're talking about today is much more of a pure dress watch. The SBGW262 – and for that matter, all of the hand-wound watches that use the slim new case shape – provide a strong response to the thickness critique. It's a watch that will hug a medium-sized wrist like mine in a pleasant way, and the absence of a rotor further reinforces its stability on wrist. If there was ever an unambiguously dressy Grand Seiko that channeled traditional Japanese craft in a way that demonstrates what makes Grand Seiko different, I think it might be the yellow gold SBGW262.

At the heart of this reference, and visible through its sapphire back, is a movement that we have known for some time. The tried and true 9S64 powers such classic Grand Seiko hand-wound models as the SBGW231. This 9S64 comes with an ample 72 hours (or three days) of power reserve, which I think is critical given the fact that this is a watch that you will be winding by hand. Having three days of power reserve means that the SBGW262 could be a fine daily dress watch worn to the office, removed for the weekend, and then brought back out on Monday morning without needing to be reset. Grand Seiko rates the cal. 9S64 as accurate to within +5/-3 seconds per day when static. Purely anecdotally, I'd point out that I've experienced even better performance from the Grand Seiko mechanical GMT that I own and wear regularly, as well as from some of the other examples that I've had a chance to wear for extended periods of time.

The absence of a date display also means that, even if the SBGW262 is called up only for rare special occasions, setting the time can be be done in just a few seconds. While I think Grand Seiko is actually one of very best when it comes to thoughtfully integrating a date window, typically framing it in such a way that it exists harmoniously among the rest of the dial furniture, this dateless urushi lacquer dial with maki-e accents benefits very much from "going stag," if you will. 

This year marks the 60th anniversary of Grand Seiko (Seiko itself is, of course, much older), and though the SBGW262 is not one of the official limited edition models released to mark this momentous anniversary, I think it stands out as a very appealing synthesis of authentic Japanese craft and high-end watchmaking, as well as a reminder of just how far this brand has come since its 1960 founding.

The Grand Seiko Elegance SBGW262. 39mm x 11.6mm yellow gold case water resistant to 30 meters. Black urushi lacquer dial with markers and  numerals made from raised maki-e in platinum or 24-karat gold powder. Manually wound Grand Seiko Cal. 9S64 running at 28,800 vph (4Hz) with 72 hours of power reserve, rated to +5/-3 seconds when static. Black crocodile leather strap with gold pin buckle. Retail price: $30,000.

For more, visit Grand Seiko.

You might say, if you were a casual (or, for that matter, non-casual) observer of the watch enthusiast scene nowadays, that mechanics don't get no respect. The vast majority of the discussion about watches focuses on cosmetics – I don't mean that in a negative way; the reality is that most watch purchases and most of the subsequent enjoyment focuses on elements of a watch that don't have anything to do with how it performs as a watch. Dial colors, case and bracelet design, quality of case finishing and of dial furniture, the degree to which hand work is involved, and even movement finishing to a certain extent, all have much to do with how a watch looks and little if anything (with a caveat for movement finishing, which as it is applied to working surfaces, has a major influence on performance) with how well the watch tells time. 

We have long taken accuracy for granted, and it surprises no one to have a mechanical watch that can keep time to within a few seconds a day or better, and yet how we got there is a long, complex journey – one which has about it a bit of the air of the inevitable.

What Time Is It, Anyway?

At the core of the conversation is the notion of accuracy. This is the degree to which the watch agrees with an external, more accurate time standard. Not long ago, a HODINKEE reader asked a quite interesting question which we discussed a bit in Episode 95 of HODINKEE Radio, which was, how did watch and clockmakers know, historically, whether a particular clock or watch, or a particular aspect of the mechanism, was an improvement in accuracy if the standard for accuracy is an existing clock or watch? The answer is that, for wristwatches, time standards have usually been clocks. Clocks were accurate long before watches. This is thanks to the invention of the pendulum which, by the beginning of the 18th century, was already capable of incredible accuracy – a clock by Tompion, finished in 1676 and installed at the Royal Observatory at Greenwich Park, just outside of London, was so accurate that the then-Astronomer Royal, John Flamsteed, was able to use it to determine that the speed of the Earth's rotation was constant. 

Such clocks would have presented an aspirational challenge to watchmakers, who could only dream of such precision. Pendulum clocks can be as precise as they are for several reasons, but among the most important of these are that they are generally stationary and protected to some degree from the elements. Moreover, the precision of an oscillator, such as a pendulum or balance, in a clock or watch depends very much on the restoring force – the force that tends to bring the oscillator back to its neutral position – being proportional to the driving force. In a pendulum, this is easily done, as gravity tugs the pendulum back to its neutral position more or less with the same force with which you push it (as anyone who has ever taken a swing to the chest pushing a child on one in a playground can attest). 

Clocks, in turn, could be set against astronomical phenomena. Particularly of use as a time standard were the transits of stars across fixed points in the sky; these transits occur with extreme regularity and predictability and were the final time standard against which clocks were measured, right up until the 20th century, when, first, quartz oscillators and then atomic clocks, set a standard in which a clock might have better than one second precision over the known age of the entire universe.

Clock Vs. Watch

Clocks, therefore, can be made so accurate that they vastly exceed any need for precision which anyone might need in daily life, and they had already done so more than two and a half centuries ago. So why did watches lag behind so badly?

The answer is, again, pretty simple. A watch, first and foremost, is portable (it had better be, or it's not much of a watch), and wristwatches especially are subjected to an awful lot of abuse, including physical shocks, temperature changes, occasional but potentially disastrous exposure to magnetic fields, and on and on. As watchmakers recognized early on that their clients were not likely to become more careful, watches needed to become better and better at resisting external disturbances. The other problem is that a watch does not have a pendulum. (A pendulum in a watch, you would think, is not such a hot idea, and you would be right, but that hasn't stopped some people from trying. Pendulums were, for many years, so strongly associated with accuracy that some makers of cheaper pocket watches would actually put dummy pendulums in them which were visible through an aperture in the dial, which I would think would actually be less reassuring.) 

Instead, a watch uses a circular balance, and fans of modern watches might be surprised to find out just how long those have been around. The balance actually pre-dates the pendulum, in one form or another – balances, and a related device called a foliot, which is essentially a bar mounted on a pivot and rotating in the horizontal plane, date back to the very earliest known mechanical clocks, which were probably developed towards the end of the 13th century (record keeping back then was terrible and often interrupted by war, pestilence, illiteracy, and what have you – on top of that, the earliest known clock movements in Europe were iron, and the centuries have reduced most of them to rust). The balance, however, in its earliest form did not have a natural harmonic frequency – instead, the escapement in these early clocks, called the verge, simply knocked the balance or foliot back and forth with no real regulating force to steady its rate, like a bored child whacking a rubber ball back and forth between its hands. As a result, you were lucky to get an hour-per-day accuracy out of the things, although this didn't really matter as you were lucky to get thirteen or fourteen hours' running time out of them as well.

Things chugged along in this fashion, in watchmaking, for a couple of centuries until the mid-1600s, when the balance spring was finally applied to the balance. The reason this was so critical is because the balance spring provided, like gravity, a restoring force proportional to the driving force (at long last), and in a single stroke, accuracy went from an hour a day to minutes per day – suddenly, smaller clocks and, more importantly for our purposes, watches could be thought of as potentially serious timekeepers. A restoring force proportional to a driving force is critical in a clock but even more so in a watch, as it means the balance will maintain a stable frequency irrespective of the energy in the mainspring (that's the idea, anyway – although, as we will see, there is truth in that old saying about the best-laid plans of mice and men). 

This is a property called isochronism. Isochronism is not a given just because you throw in a balance spring – the number of coils, materials used, where the inner and outer attachment points are, were all things that had to be worked out empirically and with a lot of long, slow, painstaking work (which continues to this day). But, in principle, the single greatest problem in watchmaking had been solved (and this was quite a while ago; about 1657, thanks to the research of the Dutch scientist Christiaan Huygens and the English researcher Robert Hooke). 

However, as is so often the case with knotty problems, cut off one head and three more grow in its place. With the invention of the balance spring came a whole host of new and extremely intractable problems.

The Pursuit Of High Precision

Throughout the history of watch and clockmaking, one theme constantly recurs – the more precise a timekeeper gets, the more you have to start taking into account things you could ignore before. Take the balance spring. Once you start getting minutes-per-day accuracy and better precision, suddenly you start to notice things that you hadn't. Temperature, for instance, starts to become a factor, and you have to figure out what to do about the fact that due to the thermal expansion of the balance, and the changes you get in hairspring elasticity as temperature changes, rate changes unpredictably as temperature changes – you need to figure out some form of temperature compensation. Early efforts at temperature compensation saw an awful lot of different approaches, but eventually, by the early 1800s, the standard approach was to use a balance made of a layer of two metals – brass and steel, for instance – that expanded and contracted at different rates. The balance is still a circle, but it has cuts in the rim so its diameter can expand and contract as temperature changes, which offsets the effects of temperature on the balance and spring – not perfectly, but a hell of a lot better than nothing.

Gradually, two basic directions emerged in watchmaking over the course of the 19th century. On the one hand, you had watches which were designed with a view to changes in style, and the primary goal was to make watches as elegantly thin as possible. This tendency reached its pinnacle at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries, when the so-called "knife" pocket watches, some of which had movements so thin it would be difficult to reproduce them today, were made. While these were made with a great deal of attention and care – ultra-thin watchmaking is extremely demanding, and very few watchmakers ever made true ultra-thin movements – such watches, as a rule, do not have precision and accuracy as their primary goal.

The other direction, however, was oriented towards precision as a first priority. Such watches tended to have thicker, more rigid movements; they also had large, high-mass balances to ensure a more stable rate; they invariably incorporated cut bimetallic balances for temperature compensation, and they were adjusted to at least five or six positions to ensure a minimum variation in rate due to the effects of gravity. As a balance spring was thought to "breathe" more naturally if there was no regulator index (which can be used to change the effective length of the balance spring, thereby changing the rate of the watch), these were often freesprung as well, with a Breguet overcoil to further reduce rate variation across positions. Often, a Maltese cross stopworks would be incorporated, which restricts power output from the mainspring to only that segment with the most even delivery of torque (or, in the case of English watchmaking, a fusée and chain). 

Really top-level precision obsessives might wish for a watch with a chronometer detent, rather than a lever escapement, although lever watches achieved extremes of precision as well and offered much better resistance to shocks. At the end of the 19th century, then, this was the classic form of the high-grade, chronometer pocket watch: generally, time only, with a large, freesprung adjustable-mass balance with temperature compensation, an overcoil balance spring, either a Maltese cross stopworks or a fusée and chain, and either a high-quality lever or chronometer detent escapement depending on the preferences and, I presume, the friskiness of the potential owner. 

Such watches would have been made on a very artisanal basis, one at a time, with laborious adjustments for isochronism, as little variation among positions as possible, and temperature (and often the movement would be engraved to this effect, with some variation on, "Adjusted to heat, cold, isochronism, and 6 positions."). However, it is also true that mass-produced watchmaking was hard on the heels of these chronometrically oriented superwatches and with American watchmaking in the lead. American watchmakers did not make especially high-craft watches as a rule, but they were robust, accurate, reliable, and above all, cheap (relatively speaking). The U.S. watch manufacturers were of enormous concern to the Swiss as they threatened to simply out-produce the Swiss in terms of numbers, at least perform equally in terms of accuracy, and just as importantly, significantly undercut them in costs. And it was in the early 20th century that the stage was set for true high-precision on a mass-production basis.

The 20th Century: Materials Matter

For most of the history of watchmaking, the basic tools and materials had changed very little: Brass, either gilt or rhodium-plated for plates and bridges (or, in some instances, German silver which is arguably a kind of brass; brass is an alloy of copper and zinc, while German silver is copper and nickel, sometimes with zinc as well), steel of course, and ... and, really, not much else; an occasional use of gold for working parts; rubies (first natural and then synthetic) as very low friction bearings, and lubricants, which were originally animal and vegetable greases, but which were gradually replaced by longer-lasting synthetics. It is interesting to think what alchemy was achieved with these rather intractable materials wrung, as you might say, from the bowels of a resisting Earth. With the accumulated knowledge of centuries (just making good mainsprings was a high craft passed down from father to son at one point), makers could create watches and portable timekeepers like marine chronometers on which everything from getting to a train station on time, to the fate of the fleets of mighty nations, might depend.

As the 20th century's first decades went by, a quiet revolution occurred in watchmaking. This was the invention of nickel-steel alloys with very low coefficients of expansion – in other words, their physical characteristics changed dramatically less with temperature changes than conventional materials like brass and steel. The fact that these alloys have a temperature coefficient of almost zero changed watchmaking forever. Invar (the name comes from "invariable") and Elinvar ("invariable elasticity") were alloys whose properties were researched extensively by the Swiss physicist Charles Édouard Guillaume, who won the Nobel Prize for his work in 1920. 

Invar became the gold standard for pendulum rods (there is a nice Easter egg for horology fans in the Terry Pratchett novel, The Thief Of Time, in which a woman attempting to commission the most accurate clock ever made finally gets the clockmaker's attention by saying silkily, "Do you need Invar? I can get you any quantity of Invar."). Elinvar balance springs, plus solid balances made of beryllium bronze alloys, gradually became the standard. Automatic winding systems, plus new mainspring alloys with very flat torque curves over most of their power reserve, did away with the cut balance, the plain steel overcoil balance, elaborate stop works and fusées, and all the centuries of accumulated knowledge on how to make them work together in an improbable but beautiful symphony of accuracy. The lost horological decorative arts get a lot of attention these days, but almost invisibly, the advent of high tech alloys swept an entire world of technical skill and knowledge irrevocably into the past as well.

Materials: There's A New Sheriff In Town

These developments in materials science meant that, once again, the precision watch underwent a metamorphosis. A precision chronometer-grade wristwatch would now tick these boxes: still a freesprung, adjustable mass balance, with overcoil balance spring, but the balance would be made of a beryllium-bronze alloy like Glucydur, and with the spring made of one of the nickel-steel alloys like Nivarox. The watch is automatic, with a slipping bridle mainspring made of a material like Nivaflex, which has an extremely complex composition: 45 percent cobalt, 21 percent nickel, 18 percent chrome, five percent iron, four percent tungsten, four percent molybdenum, one percent titanium and 0.2 percent beryllium, with just a smidge of carbon (less than 0.1 percent) thrown in for God knows why ... to appease the Old Gods Of Carbon, maybe. 

The lubricants are modern synthetics, and, thanks to the advent of modern multi-axis computer-controlled machine tools, the watch in question is going to be exactly like its siblings, which can number in the hundreds of thousands with no more to tell them apart than one Clone Trooper from another. I hasten to add that this is a good thing and a long-sought goal of horology – inconsistency in production is a gremlin to be rooted out and exterminated by any means necessary.

One word on escapements: with a couple of exceptions, the lever escapement rules the roost and has for many decades. There are several reasons for this. The first and most important is simply that it works. It works extremely well – it is inherently resistant to shock, its properties have been researched and refined extensively since Mudge made the first lever watch in 1755, and moreover, it is capable of keeping really excellent time, with the best examples (from, for instance, companies like Rolex, whose Chronergy escapement has a proprietary geometry) perfectly capable of keeping time to within a maximum daily variation in rate of just a couple of seconds a day. To date, the only other escapement to be produced in really industrial quantities is the co-axial escapement, and in Omega's watches, in combination with further innovations in materials science, including silicon balance springs, escape wheels, and pallets, both magnetism and degradation of lubricants are becoming non-issues – certainly over time spans of less than a decade.

One of the first distinctions you learn about when you get interested in precision timekeeping is the distinction between precision and accuracy. Precision is more or less synonymous with rate stability – the property of an oscillator, that its frequency should not vary, which by now we can see is harder than it looks. Pendulum clocks go in one direction – that of isolation; the most precise can have their rate disturbed by something like the tidal forces of the Moon passing overhead, and they live in vibration-silencing, temperature-controlled underground vaults. Wristwatches go in another – that of arming themselves against the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, and developing materials and designs which allow them to pass, like Odysseus lashed to his mast, between the threats of physical disturbances and magnetic disruption unscathed. While there is obvious overlap between the two fields – a watchmaker never met a bar of Invar they didn't like – each has its own fascinatingly unique characteristics. 

Precision is of interest because, without it, real long term accuracy cannot be had. You can be precise without being accurate – a chronometer which gains ten seconds a day on its rate, no more, no less, is actually extremely precise in that its rate does not vary, and you can easily derive accurate time by subtraction. An imprecise watch, which wanders from day to day on its rate, may seem for days at a time to be precise if you happen to get lucky with rate variations canceling each other, but sooner or later, luck, which has no place in precision horology or precision anything else, runs out, and you are stuck looking at the back of a departing train or a closed departure gate.

That it is possible for mechanical watches to be produced in the millions and still keep time to within chronometer specs, or even significantly better, is something that would have left the masters of yore, who labored for months and years in isolation on single high-precision timepieces, awed. However, that is not to say that they would not have understood how it was achieved. It's wonderful to think of what the reaction of someone like Breguet would be if you showed them a modern watch from a company like Rolex. Breguet would certainly be struck by many things about the watch, and he would, for sure, have no end of questions to ask, but at the same time, there is probably nothing in the watch which would have mystified him from a basic technical perspective. By the time of his death, everything that makes a Rolex or other modern watch tick was already firmly in place, and the accuracy which we now enjoy in good watches, and take for granted, is based on a quiet, relentless quest for refinement in technology which is three centuries old. Fine watchmaking firms often make much of their watches as a bridge to the past, but that assertion is firmly grounded in reality, and what machines and computers achieve today by the millions would not exist were it not for the individual minds and hands, infinite patience, and probing curiosity of the masters of yesteryear.

It's Wednesday, which means one thing in the HODINKEE Shop: The arrival of a fresh selection of vintage watches for you to consider. Today, we have mostly gold watches (with one gold-plated!) and a couple of stainless-steel options that cover all the bases, from sporty to dressy and everywhere in between.

Sit back and relax, it's time for vintage.  

1960s Wittnauer Professional Chronograph Ref. 242T

The Wittnauer Professional Chronograph ref. 242T is a cool and interesting chronograph from the 1960s. It's something you don't see every day in terms of design, with its combination of a space-age dial aesthetic and decimal scale. Inside you'll find the Valjoux 72, the same movement found in early Rolex Daytonas. The detail that makes this example special – besides its great condition – is that it's genuinely fresh-to-market from its original owner. The story goes that he received it as a gift from his parents for his high school graduation in 1969, because he was learning how to fly and his parents wanted him to have a reliable chronograph. The owner went on to be a commercial pilot for Delta, and he wore this exact watch for over 30 years on the job.

1974 Rolex Day-Date Ref. 1803 In 18k White Gold With Arabic Calendar

There is something so satisfying about a solid white-gold watch on a matching bracelet. It's a subtle and low-key expression of luxury that has its own distinct personality. This white-gold Day-Date is special for a few reasons. One – as we said – it's in all white gold, which stands out compared to the more popular yellow-gold variants; two, it features a Day and Date wheel in Arabic, indicating it was originally for the Middle Eastern market; and three, the dial is of the non-lume variety. All three factors combine for an uncommon variant of one of the most recognizable watches out there. Trust us, you won't come across another one of these very often. 

1994 Audemars Piguet Perpetual Calendar Ref. 25657BA

We haven't had a perpetual calendar in the HODINKEE Shop for a while, so when we laid eyes on this 1990s QP from Audemars Piguet, we were quite excited to share it with you. You won't find many other watches out there in gold, with this complication, from such a prestigious brand, for this kind of money. Besides representing an excellent value for a complicated calendar in gold, this example is in excellent condition and wears extremely well on the wrist. With a 36mm diameter, it has a solid wrist presence while remaining flat enough to wear under a cuff. One nice detail about this watch is its stepped bezel, which adds some detail to the case and provides it extra dimension. 

The Full Set

In addition to the three highlights above, we have a beautiful 1950s Zenith chronograph in a 37mm pink-gold case, a gold-plated 1973 Omega Seamaster Chronograph with caliber 861, and a fun Omega "Admiralty" ref. 135.015 with orange accents from 1968. Head on over to the HODINKEE Shop for all the details!   

Welcome to the fourteenth installment of "My Watch Story," a video series starring HODINKEE readers and their most prized watches. The submissions continue to stream in, and we couldn't be happier to share them with the watch community. Today, we have five new stories submitted by Galvin Wong, Parik Kumar, Marius Piedallu Van Wyk, Ignacio Hwang, and Melvin Poh.

Feeling inspired, or just discovering this project? Please scroll down to the bottom of the page to learn how to submit your own video. But first, we hope you enjoy this installment of My Watch Story.

Galvin Wong And His Seiko Lord Marvel

Galvin, who is from Toronto, sought out his Seiko Lord Marvel to commemorate earning his professional engineer designation and for a trip to Tokyo he was never able to take this year. Galvin is a big Grand Seiko admirer and likes that the Lord Marvel line helped influence the conception of the first Grand Seiko. The carved logo is a point of fascination for him, and he loves that it's yellow gold with classic dress watch proportions. 

@kawainot

Parik Kumar And His Tudor Advisor

Arizona resident Parik Kumar shares with us today his vintage Tudor Advisor from 1957. Through a bit of research, he learned how Rolex applied some of their more experimental concepts on some of the Tudor watches of that period – one being its mechanical alarm function. Together with the watch's jangly bracelet and unpolished case, this Tudor Advisor has been the cornerstone of Parik's growing vintage Tudor collection. 

@pkk9318

Marius Piedallu Van Wyk And His Rolex Explorer Reference 6610

Originally from South Africa and currently living in Atlanta, Marius received his Rolex Explorer Reference 6610 from his grandfather while he was still a student. He accidentally dropped the watch and had to have it repaired – not the easiest expense to bear as a student – but he did so anyway and hasn't regretted the decision since. Marius was surprised by the resurgence of interest in this particular model, and it has spent quite a bit of time on his wrist compared to the more modern watches in his collection.

@lailoken

Ignacio Hwang And His Gold Universal Geneve Gifted By King Faisal

Ignacio, who resides in Boston, tells the story of his gold Universal Geneve – a gift received by his father in 1971 from King Faisal of Saudi Arabia. His father, who worked for the ministry of foreign affairs in Taiwan, was fortunate to receive the watch, considering only 10 of these special pieces were made. The watch and all the countries it visited always mesmerized him as a kid, and he dreamed one day of finally owning it. 

Melvin Poh And His Mr. Roboto Watch

Since he was a child, Malaysian entrepreneur Melvin Poh has always had a fascination with toy robots – which he'd always receive from his late grandmother on his birthday. As he got older and as his favorite toys gradually became discontinued, Melvin needed something to fill the void. Azimuth produced a line of watches called Mr. Roboto that rekindled Melvin's interests, and although he couldn't afford one as a university student, he always aspired to get one eventually. Through determination and a trip to Singapore, Melvin finally found the watch and is proud to wear it daily.

Ready To Submit Your Own Watch Story? Here's How It Works

1. Pick one watch that is very special to you, and get your camera phone ready.

2. Record a video telling us your most interesting or meaningful story about your watch. Let's say 2-3 minutes is the sweet spot – if you go longer, that's okay. (And please remember to introduce yourself: your name and where you are from.)

3. Get creative, keep it clean, and have fun! 

4. Take some photos on the wrist and a few shots of the watch so that we can proudly display them on our site. Horizontal, please.

5. To share your video and photos, you can either A) upload here; or B) upload to your preferred large file transfer service and send a link to mywatchstory@hodinkee.com.