Tag: 2022 novelties

Tudor Black Bay Pro: Vibes Of The Great Rolex Ref. 1665 “Freccione” Explorer II, But With Modern Performance. (It’s A Great Value, Too.)

(The Tudor Black Bay Pro, in the several options it can be configured in. As always, the bracelet is the best value option, and you can add straps later)

Long past are the days of Tudor being simply that value-priced, second fiddle sibling to Rolex–not that the brand wasn’t appreciated for its virtues then, and, since my very first so-called real watch was a 79190 Submariner Date, I’ll have to include myself amongst the admirers of Hans Wilsdorf’s “other” brand, which from its inception was intended to offer the Rolex Oyster Perpetual’s essential virtues in a more affordable format. No, these days, Tudor has become a sort of retro-creative laboratory for the Rolex brand, a place where interesting materials, fetching vintage designs recalling historically beloved Oyster models, and a refreshingly honest “tool watch” constructive and aesthetic alliance can still thrive. My own love for Rolexian virtues was forged back in the late 1980s onward, when ADs (family-owned ones in particular) were far more plentiful, stock was ample, and Rolex ads graced nearly every Smithsonian and National Geographic magazine. While those advertisements often showcased precious metal Day-Dates and two-tone Datejusts on opera singers and golfers, they just as frequently had famous explorers, underwater photographers, and other bold human beings the watches of whom certainly bore more than their share of love marks for lives fully lived. Folks like George Schaller, Reinhold Messner, David Doubilet, Dr. Bill Stone, Erling Kagge, and the ill-fated yet daring Steve Fossett, were but a few. That was the Rolex I loved, but one that seems sadly relegated to nostalgic remembrances. For those who do recall (and are lucky enough to have a watch or two bearing the five-point crown), or those who wish they could experience it as they wistfully wait for an AD to grant their wish for a watch some year down the road, Tudor still allows you some of that historic, inclusionary Rolex thrill. With that trip down memory lane shining brightly, we’ll segue into one the best–and most readily attainable–releases for 2022, the Tudor Black Bay Pro. It is, quite simply, the hottest watch Tudor has come out with since the legendary Black Bay 58 burst on the scene four years ago.

(Rugged character, design heritage, and real-world capability. Could one want for more in a pedigreed sports watch at $4,000 these days?)

The first thing that blew me away, was how intensely and immediately this 39mm Tudor recalls the great 1655 Rolex Explorer II—the very first Explorer II of course, known by some as the Freccione, and others as the “Steve McQueen”, never mind that it was a 5512 Submariner that the actor favored, and known to wear. A wacky 1970s combination of shapes and colors, yet still fully carrying the combination of elegance and strength that other Rolex professional models like the GMT-Masters and divers did, the Ref. 1655 Explorer II was a striking statement of form following function–a true spelunkers watch (and marketed as such) with ample splashes of lume, readily discernible hour hands, and a fail proof fixed bezel bearing deeply engraved 24-hour military time indicators. The model would evolve subtly but noticeably through the 1980s and 1990s, starting with the reference 16550, evolving into the long-produced 16570 and ending where we are now with the still attractive but notably bulkier 42mm 226570. Beginning with the highly collectible 16550, the Explorer II would gain the independent hour hand complication of the GMT-Master II, as well as a sapphire crystal to keep up with the times. Yet, that closer alignment and design consolidation with its sibling model in the professional range also heavily diluted much of what was dazzlingly original and quirky about the classic 1665–with the changes, the Explorer II had become, in essence, a more spartan GMT-Master II, with a fixed bezel. While I can certainly appreciate the evolution of the Explorer II range, and acknowledge the technical improvements, I also feel somewhat wistful when seeing the first generation of the model, wishing for a modernized interpretation of the original aesthetic, yet with all the goodies. With the Tudor…you can come closer than ever before to that idea, reliving that sports watch nostalgia, while getting all the performance in a cutting-edge mechanical dual time model that can take all the life adventures you can dish out above, or below, sea level.

(A vintage Rolex ad, showing the Ref. 1655 which clearly inspired the latest Black Bay from Rolex’s sister brand)

The heart of the new Tudor Black Bay Pro is what enables this excellent travel functionality, and a simple unscrewing of the crown and pulling it out to the secondary position enables you to advance the 12-hour hand back or forwards as you need, the date coming safely along for the ride in either direction. Based on a Kenissi caliber base developed by Tudor in conjunction with Breitling, Norqain and Chanel, the MT5652 offers up a pleasing blend of durability and precision just the way many of us tend to value in a sports watch. The large, 4Hz-pulsating balance wheel is supported on a full bridge, much like many Rolex calibers–and is similarly freely sprung–although unlike its illustrious sister brand that features a hairspring in Parachrom alloy with a Breguet overcoil, the Tudor employs a component in hyper-modern silicon. Each MT5652 has earned a chronometer certificate from the COSC, and should offer excellent precision and accuracy. (While admittedly only a sample size of one, a Black Bay 58 I owned for a time in 2018 performed in exemplary fashion, easily staying within less than two seconds gain per day regardless of how active or inactive I was, or what position the watch was rested in.) And, in the manner of other modern Tudor calibers, power reserve is excellent, with a full 70 hours at maximum mainspring tension, meaning that this piece will fit in very well with a several watch rotation, if you so desire.

(Case diameter is a svelte 39mm, although this watch is noticeably thicker than the Explorer II. Gotta love the case bevels, too!)

The dial is compelling too. Not a direct rip off of the Rolex 1655 by any means–nor quite as delightfully quirky, I have to add–it manages to deftly span the gap between tasteful conservatism and period-specific 1970s flamboyance. The snowflake hand has become the design calling card of Tudor, owing to its use in legendary dive models of the brand’s distant past, and that theme continues here…quite well I think. Despite being triple featured on the hour hand, the second hand, and the mustard yellow 24 hour hand, I don’t feel beaten over the head with it, although some may naturally disagree. Critically, as this is a sports watch at its soul, legibility is superb, and Tudor gets some creative points for their application of luminous material; rather than the usual luminova paint, the hour markers are actually raised monobloc plots in a ceramic material, which add dimension and visual interest to the matte, all-business deep charcoal toned dial. Those things, along with the lean, sparingly engraved 24 hour bezel (whose engraved numerals I find more focused and clean than those seen on the current Rolex Explorer II, by the way) create a very appealing essence of function and clear design, with enough retro to please the old guard of the Wilsdorf adventurer’s watch mythos, and the novelty to distinguish itself amongst a competitive field of upper mid-tier luxury watches. And true to Tudor form, the buyer gets choices, from a natty (and very well made) Jacquard nylon strap with a color-coordinated yellow stripe, a rubber and leather hybrid that exudes rugged casualness, and finally, a rivet-style bracelet with a so-called “T-Fit” 8mm on the fly extension system, that keeps the Oyster-inspired design language strong, if perhaps just a touch heavy on the obligatory vintage cues. That subjective critique aside, the matching stainless steel bracelet is a very appealing match to the Pro, and the way I’d order it if I get pushed over the edge. Besides, straps are much easier and more cost effective to source later, as most of us have learned–probably the hard and financially painful way!

But about that multiple watch thing I mentioned before: the toolish charm inherent in the Tudor Black Bay Pro means it could just become that attainable “one watch” companion so many aspiring timepiece owners fantasize about. In the absence of modern Rolex to buy at retail prices, and high horology brands offering watches that might be beautiful and exquisite, but a little too posh to be truly enjoyed to the fullest, the Tudor fills a real void. As has been echoed by others in the hobby, I think it is important to recognize this watch (and other Tudor kin) for its own merits, rather than being a second class citizen to the now-fanatically coveted Rolex product line. While the heritage between the companies is undeniable, and we certainly understand who’s design language influences who, the more attainable products of Tudor are refreshingly honest in their presentation, all while offering truly laudable watchmaking value. It goes without saying that it also has the clout to offer that all-important backup for servicing down the road, a not inconsiderable point which many competitors cannot match. It still amazes me to see how far Tudor has come at defining itself as a brand, especially in the shadow of its sibling. Indeed, Tudor remains, along with modern Omega, as the brand I recommend for new (and returning) watch buyers who want top quality and heritage in a mechanical watch, yet feel alienated by the allocation games and high prices of our current market. I suspect that warm sentiment towards Tudor is shared by many, and it’s something which would surely have pleased the late Hans Wilsdorf himself, who could scarcely imagine the state of the watch industry in 2022, even if he would also hope you stay on that waiting list for whichever Rolex model you secretly desire most. 😉

“Days long past” Or, with a Tudor, are they?

TAG Heuer Carrera Plasma: A Heavy-Hitting Diamond Watch Worthy Of Attention For Reasons Well Beyond The Bling

(“Techniques d’ Avant Garde”–the TAG brand acronym, exceedingly well represented by this watch)

One need not desire or even find a watch attractive, to find it worthy of interest. At least that’s the way I feel, after having been exposed to more than my fair share of the ticking delights. Diamond and other gem set watches really, really aren’t my thing, and never have been, although…the more I’ve learned about truly masterfully created gem-set pieces (such as the Rolex “Rainbow” series) the more I do appreciate their subtle, and even the decidedly not-so-subtle charms. Then, there are some watches, such as the sublime Patek Philippe Ref. 5170P, or the glacier blue-dialed Rolex Daytona in platinum, in which the twinkle of a few crucially-set baguette diamonds at the hours simple adds pure magic to an already delicious piece of mechanical artistry. Too, there’s a lot of art involved, from the jeweler, or jewelers, who cut and set the stones, to the exacting gemologists who painstakingly choose them for color and clarity prior to the long tedium of creating the piece even starts. But I digress. What if we had before a us a watch which challenges and even changes the very way we perceive diamonds themselves; that is, from coveted precious stones wrenched from the ground in war-torn lands…which somehow become then a synonym for devotion in love, to high-tech laboratory created wonders that push manufacturing capabilities and offer exciting new materials for who knows how many applications in and outside of horology? I know the diamond industry of decades past might not appreciate the advances in laboratory produced diamonds, and maybe the stones don’t have the romance, however controversial, of the “real thing”, but the achievement is impressive. Moreover, the diamonds are real…even if they weren’t made like Mother Earth intended. (Heck, even De Beers itself has their own line of synthetics, so that should tell you all you need to know.) Marry those technological advances to a complicated mechanical watch, and sprinkle in some bold styling and dynamic material choices, and you have the TAG Heuer Carrera Plasma, a daring and unquestionably unique introduction for 2022. Nor is its name–Plasma–just some futuristic sounding marketing mumbo jumbo; instead, it makes reference to the exacting process by which the laboratory-produced diamonds in this most unusual complicated watch come into existence.

(48 impeccably cut lab-produced diamonds grace the aluminum case, in a display of very organized gem-set chaos)

The fundamental combination which leads to carbon becoming the cherished form of the diamond as we generally know it–Time and Pressure–now comes from a quiet laboratory rather than the raging bowels of the earth. There, the processes are far less haphazard, and somewhat different in the way the “recipe” comes out, even if the chemical makeup and optical properties are ultimately identical. TAG Heuer has invested heavily into the production of laboratory-produced diamonds, which somewhat like modern laboratory-made corundum (sapphire), begins with a seed or seed of diamond material. Then the controlled magic begins, in a process called chemical vapor deposition whereby these diamond seeds are superheated in a gaseous plasma of hydrogen and carbon to the point that a chemical transformation mutates them into larger examples of diamond, identical in makeup and crystalline structure to traditionally mined ones.

(The distinctive atomic structure of diamond, as seen in a model rendering)

These carefully cultivated stones, of which TAG Heuer has emblazoned this watch with many, completely circumvent the controversy of naturally harvested diamonds, which may or may not be a selling point depending on the customer. That said, there’s little doubt that diamond is a fascinating material quite aside from its sparkling attributes, and makes a fascinating addition when joined to a no-holds-barred design such as this. While jarring, the seemingly random setting patterns of the 48 diamonds into the blackened aluminum case of 44mm diameter creates a fascinating total effect that really makes one contemplate the union of artistic creativity and science on a different level. It’s very cool, and decidedly unlike anything else out there! And indeed, the TAG Heuer Plasma Nanograph is the premiere debut of laboratory made diamonds in watchmaking.

(after being grown from their “seed” within a flux, each diamond is exactly shaped by a laser)

Impressively, the theme of high tech carbon doesn’t stop at the case level, but continues on through the dial, and into the complicated movement. The dial, far from simply being textured or paved with diamonds, is actually in pure nanocrystalline diamond—also lab produced, naturally–which is then carefully affixed to an underlying brass layer. Visible through the caseback, the self-winding Heuer 02 Nanograph mechanism also holds carbon-based secrets of its own. The tourbillon cage, which completes a revolution every 60 seconds, as well as the hairspring its balance wheel holds is made of featherweight carbon composite, materials which are as notable for their amagnetic capabilities as they are an exceptionally low mass. Those attributes are not just a talking point, but a real boon to the performance, both in terms of reducing the parasitic energy loss the tourbillon extracts from the movement as it operates (thanks to less weight to push around) and essential invulnerability to magnetic fields via a material that isn’t fazed in the slightest by them. Seen from the dial side, this space-age looking tourbillon cage combines with the two-counter, column-wheel controlled chronograph complication to present a facade that is highly technical and redolent of engineering virtuosity. It also looks quite fantastic and aggressive against the wild looks of the case. Topping it all off, quite literally, is a regal 2.5 carat diamond crown created in the labs of Capsoul, a firm with significant expertise in the field of creating synthetic diamond.

(Decorated with a checkered flag motif, the Heuer 02 shows its chronograph mechanism, complete with column wheel switching)

TAG Heuer’s Carrera Plasma is a bold and unique super watch, that should herald some interesting moves from the brand–and likely its competitors–as time moves forward. While I don’t adore the Plasma’s aesthetic signatures, I certainly don’t hate them either, as it really looks like no other watch in existence, leaving my compass with no real signpost for reference. It certainly is a memorable, charismatic showpiece of materials and technology with a bold character, as well as a watch with a lot of thought and effort put into its creation. (As you might hope, given the nearly $375,000 price tag) It seems a instance in which bling serves a vastly more interesting purpose than mere status, and hence certainly isn’t for the average devotee of flashy timepieces. TAG Heuer has pushed boundaries in a bold way with the Plasma, and in a world of far too many “me too” homages and attractive but sometimes passe vintage re-issues, there’s a lot to be said for that.

(Not a Kryptonite Cocktail, this is the mysterious plasma from which the synthetic diamonds are spawned)

Cartier Masse Mystérieuse: A Mechanical Wonder In Deceptively Simplistic Form

There are many wondrous mechanical watches, from stately tourbillons, maddeningly complex chain-and-fusees, dulcet-toned minute repeaters, perpetual calendars and intricate split-second chronographs being just a few of the hallowed. We admire them because they encapsulate centuries of tradition as well as undeniable mastery of truly skilled watchmakers dedicated to constructing painstaking and delicate mechanisms. Even if those of us who aren’t engineers or horological surgeons really understand them fully, we sort of get what they do with gentle and patient explanation (and maybe a few detailed illustrations or animations), and how they do it, at least in the most layman sense. Yet, there are certain mechanical debuts that simply challenge our perception of the very basics of a watch and how it operates, like the first Ulysse Nardin “Freak” at the start of the new milennium, (which incidentally just underwent an insane revision of its own, well worthy of another blog in the near future), or the various “Horological Machines” from MB&F. But today, I’m discussing the fabulous Cartier Masse Mysterieuse–the “Mystery (Winding) Mass”–a watch which has taken the better part of eight years to bring from initial concept to fruition, such were the challenges posed in its creation. Automatic mechanical watches are as common as blades of grass, but how about one who’s self-winding mechanism also contains the very movement it feeds power to? Here we have a timepiece which really comes off as less a piece of mechanical engineering, than an object of some strange mechanical-magic conjuring, all while wrapped within the apparent–yet highly deceptive–veil of elegant simplicity. How did Cartier do it?

The answer to this 4 Hertz ticking riddle, in part, can be found in a system of four all-but invisible fine toothed sapphire discs–their edge hidden beneath the Roman hour track at the dial edge–each supporting the moving parts such as the hands, the rotor contained movement and the wheel which bears them. Two additional sapphire crystals cover the dial and back, respectively, in standard fashion. However, within Cartier’s deceptively simple three-handed mechanism, is an ingenious differential gearing which permits the hands to be driven with independence, and without any interference, from the apparently suspended and free-floating mechanism! While the Mystery mechanism has been a delight and bafflement for Cartier buyers and admirers since the brand’s clocks of the same moniker first debuted in early 20th century, the Masse Mysterieuse takes things to another level, and unifies the brand’s mastery in both that specialized metier, and the more broadly seen, yet no less tricky, horological art of the skeletonized, or openworked, movement.

(Note the beautifully beveled, open-worked rotor which shows off the entire watch mechanism, including the escapement and going train)

Add everything together, and the result is astonishingly striking and beautifully whimsical, a near-fantasy expression of Cartier’s typical penchant for Parisian high style, and impeccable Swiss high craftsmanship. It should also be noted that the watch is yet another brilliant technical coup for Carole Forestier-Kasapi, a veritable Wonder Woman in the realm of high watchmaking, and a creator and deep contributor to more than a few headscratchingly innovative complicated watches over the years, including the famous Ulysse Nardin Freak mentioned above. While she’s now creating Tomorrow’s marvels for TAG-Heuer, her more than decade long tenure at Cartier certainly ends on the most triumphal of notes with this reference!

(Yes, you’ll see your hand through the watch, but I’m certain that’s an aesthetic price well worth paying for this very special Cartier!)

The Cartier Masse Mysterieuse is a unique statement, one which is delicate and refined on the one hand, yet bold and attention getting with its 43.5mm diameter platinum case. Some might not be enthused that you can see your hand (hair and all, as the case may be for some) through the sapphire construction, but that’s the nature of this very special mechanical beauty. Price is set at just over $275,000 in its basic form with hand-sewn alligator strap seen here, limited to 30 pieces. But Cartier will also offer spectacular baguette diamond-set variants (topping out at over $1M for the version with full set platinum bracelet) that also flex Cartier’s might as a jeweler with few peers, and no masters. For the ten individuals able to score one of those, or the thirty who’ll grab the sans joaillerie version for that matter, I doubt the price of entry is more than a financial formality. For the rest of us, Watches and Wonders 2022 was a fantastic opportunity to appreciate what the house of Cartier can do when all constraint is removed, and creativity takes glorious wing.

Love Or Loathe It, 2022’s Omega x Swatch MoonSwatch Launch Has Us Talking About Watches Like Never Before, And What They Mean On A Deeper Level

“MIssion to the Sun”

With Watches and Wonders behind us, there were some superlative releases from many brands, and some controversial ones, like Rolex’s left-handed “Riddler” GMT-Master II, that created plenty of chatter. But all of them paled in comparison to the impact of the collaboration between Swatch Group superstars Omega, and that purveyor of fun Swiss made plastic quartz watches, Swatch. The community has nearly torn itself asunder in the recent week, with many being vociferous fans of the collaboration, seeing it as a fun exercise in democratizing luxury–at least as a concept. Many others have been decidedly unimpressed, offering equally passionate vitriol and disdain that a luxury brand of historic import would besmirch itself with a cheapening move solely for apparent short-term publicity and little else.

“Mission to Mercury”

As an admitted fan of the collaboration, what I find interesting, is less the watches themselves, but the reactions they’ve provoked and the scuttlebutt they’ve created within a community that’s grown stagnant with never-ending valuation and scarcity discussions. More specifically, I find myself questioning what those reactions say about what we ourselves value. Is this hobby an inclusive one, or a good ol’ boys club for high-net-worth individuals and established players? Is it just an opportunity to get some photos on social media and move on? Is it a place one can learn and grow in, or be forced to admit you just don’t belong? I suppose it depends upon whom you ask, but it’s fairly clear that watches are not as readily attainable, in material reality, or even a topic of welcoming discussion, as they were even a short decade ago. Can the Omega MoonSwatch right that wrong? I think it can, possibly, or if not, at very least begin illuminating the way to a better place…a place we were not so terribly long ago. But I digress.

“Mission to Venus”

While my own interest in all things horological began in my early teens, it wasn’t until I began hanging around authorized retailers, talking to watch collectors, reading books on the subject, and through some fortuitous circumstances, getting my first couple “serious” pieces (from Rolex and Patek Philippe) that I really became really and truly hooked. This time period was a rather glorious one for budding and long-time watch lovers alike: the internet community at large was as fresh and new, with forums everywhere bursting with fresh energy, and decidedly enthusiastic discussions about all aspects of watches, from brand historical paths, to the smallest decorative minutiae, and functional and technical nuances. Stalwarts like Rolex, Audemars Piguet, and even lofty Patek Philippe–still largely word of mouth at that time amongst cognoscenti, and not a pop culture phenom like it is now, as hard as that may be to imagine for newcomers to the scene–were compared and contrasted against then new and rapidly emerging luxury brands (many now sadly gone), as well as craftily and creatively revived ones. Well-known examples of the latter included Blancpain, which had been re-imagined by the brilliant Jean-Claude Biver, and then sold in the early 1990s to the Swatch Group, who now had an in-group high end competitor to their already topmost star, Breguet. New and exciting brands headed by superstar virtuoso watchmakers such as the late Roger Dubuis also joined the fray. Tourbillons, minute repeaters, and perpetual calendars proliferated from brands across the alphabet, as did the sizes of watches, to house the seeming never-to-end proliferation of innovation, complication, and sybaritic audacity.

“Mission to Earth”

This period of fruitful abundance would of course eventually lead to the excessive glut of luxury watches seen just before the economic debacle of 2008/2009, but that’s looking at things with the luxury of hindsight. You might compare it to the innocent days of “free love” and drug experimentation in the early 1960s before things got much uglier, existentially confused, and more cynical towards the start of the 70s. However you slice it, though, the late 90s and early 2000s were a wonderful time to be alive in the watch world. Arguments happened, to be certain, and egos got hurt on occasion, but conversations were ever abundant, there was a strong sense of community, and people of all watch collecting genres seemed to genuinely enjoy sharing their passion for things that ticked, regardless of escapement type, power source, brand, or price point. Watch Get-Togethers were a common occurrence in major metropoli, with stunners from A. Lange & Sohne, and Patek Philippe cohabiting happily at the table with (then!) run-of-the mill Rolex Submariners, Zenith El Primeros, the odd pre-LVMH Hublot, vintage pocket watches, an occasional independent masterpiece, and even digital watches like Casio and Citizen. If that weren’t enough to miss, Authorized Dealers of all major brands were comfortably stocked with watches, modest to occasionally generous discounts could be obtained on most models from even the most aristocratic marques, and one seldom had to wait terribly long to obtain a grail watch, once funds were ready….oh sure, you might have to pay a bit of a premium for a new watch in the glow of post-Baselworld hype, to be an early adopter, but with a few model exceptions you could get what you wanted relatively easily, without fuss or politicking, and be treated well by sellers even if you weren’t an oligarch or one-soon-to-be. It truly was an age of glory, sort of a watch collecting version of King Arthur’s Camelot before the destruction of the round table, and a kingdom’s fall from grace.

Mission to Mars” (This one is a fan favorite, due to its styling cues that recall the Alaska Project Speedmaster)

But, like Camelot, this moment in time was as brief as it was shining, and one which has passed into nostalgic memory. Watches have become speculative, grossly materialistic in all too many cases, and shallow vessels of the most base speculation. As the exploratory fun has been gradually siphoned away in the past decade, so too has the community which once participated waned in numbers and atrophied. As the most coveted brands become less available, and ever higher priced, customers steadily yet relentlessly migrated to other competitors, and so on, and then from one model to the next with the same cycle repeating itself (witness the values progression of the Patek Philippe Nautilus to the Audemars Piguet Royal Oak series, to finally, the Vacheron Constantin Overseas line, as a stark example) Finally, we are at a stage wherein Rolex dealers are now entirely devoid of any stock, and even once ho-hum model lines like the venerable but not terribly exciting Datejust in two-tone configurations are suddenly white hot “must haves” selling for well over list price, as buyers desperate for social media viewers moved on from the impossible-to-acquire sport models, and began frenzy feeding on the base ranges.

“Mission to Jupiter”

With this dire situation only growing in scope, some collectors and would-be enthusiasts shifted to small micro-brands and independents to assuage their longings, while others decided to sit things out, and yet more gave up the watch hobby entirely in disgust and disillusionment. While there is no dearth of watch fans both established and new who enjoy their watches even now, this ledge of diminished experience is largely the precipice upon which we stand as 2022 marches on. And yet, this same year, one watch more than any other made the community look up, and reevaluate…perhaps even smile and laugh. Yes, that would be the MoonSwatch, this delightful, silly, possibly even profane and utterly ridiculous collaboration between Omega—a titan of classical Swiss watchmaking lore–and Swatch, a longtime purveyor of inexpensive fun, provocation, and the much more democratized aspect of the storied land of Helvetia.

“Mission to Neptune”

But back to the MoonSwatch, and what it is…or isn’t. I do understand the concerns that a marriage between Omega and Swatch could cheapen the Omega brand, specifically the all-powerful icon in the latter’s brand palette…the eternal Speedmaster. There is definitely some validity to this, and I think a lot there depends upon how long the collaboration goes on, and how deep the connection runs into the model range. Omega, and its Swatch Group sibling, Swatch, should tread carefully here, far less for the detriment to Swatch–which stands to benefit–but the old stalwart Omega, who’s name carries quite a bit of nobility, despite more than a few missteps over the years, including far too many limited editions that have diluted brand equity compared to laser-focused arch-competitors such as Rolex. Despite that, Omega has, for me at least, done more than perhaps any other brand to remain a beacon of impressive watchmaking innovation and horological prestige that somehow seems attainable and for lack of a better word, humanistic. The Speedmaster Professional itself, possibly more than any other watch ever made, is less a refined mechanical chronograph than a vessel of the best impulses of collective Mankind, a talisman that reminds us that despite our ages-long savagery, the human creature can collaborate, innovate for the greater good, and strive far beyond to transcend the very bounds of our planetary bond. That combination of mechanical virtue and civilized intangibles is one of the primary reasons I cherish my own 3861-powered Omega Speedy Pro, and find enjoyment in it all out of proportion to its cult status as a classic hand-wound chronograph.

“Mission to Uranus”

With that established, could there be a better watch model for such a globally inclusive collaboration than the iconic Speedmaster design? I think not. Multiple things can be true at once…and indeed, the naysayers may be correct in their assessment that this is merely a marketing coup for Omega and its parent company to garner publicity in the shadow of Rolex, or even, a gateway drug to capture a new generation of watch lovers that don’t yet have the budget for “the real thing”, or whatever. Others have pointed out that the mindblowing lines seen in Swatch stores at the historic product launch were made up less of the truly passionate watch fan, but the same flippers and profiteers that have ruined everything else, eager to take their $260 battery-powered quartz watch and turn it into a quick $2,000 + online, all to supply the click additions of social media addicts who simply can’t wait for the Swatch online release at the accessible retail price. And yet, in my heart of hearts, I feel the frenetic post-launch hype will subside soon enough and the MoonSwatch will capture its proper audience in earnest—the passionate lover of watches, who regardless of budget, simply wants to rediscover joy in actually wearing, and sharing, a cool wristwatch with a near-mythic backstory.

“Mission to the Moon”...the closest MoonSwatch to the Speedy Pro. Your full-blooded Omega should feel no threat, I opine.

It is beyond past the time to bring some passion back to this hobby, to let people discuss the origins behind models and brands, and get newcomers and those who’ve long been around the scene alike to questioning and feeling what it was–and is–that excites them about these strange little timekeeping machines that play shockingly little actual role in our high-tech world, yet create such sense of connection and passion. The discussion itself–beyond what the watch is or isn’t–can only be to the good, I suspect, and possibly ignite a much larger, and lifelong interest in watchmaking at large for a new troop of WIS. Perhaps from there, a gradual trickle-down will occur that triggers an eventual return to comparative reality for brands across the spectrum. Excessive idealism in a very complex global economy beset with issues far beyond luxury goods on their own merits? Quite possibly, but….one can dream!

“Mission to Neptune”

The status players and speculators in the hobby may never understand, and that’s perfectly fine. There are many valid reasons to collect watches, statements of wealth and prestige signaling included, and we all must recognize that. Yet, admirers of watches who simply find excitement in all things horological, will find no threat in the MoonSwatch, and possibly much to love. Judging by reactions around the globe, the positive vibes have come from all ends of the net worth continuum. To that end, the Swatch/Omega collaboration, and their controversial product in all of its celestial variations, may just in fact be the sort of horological hero we need in these difficult times, even if it wasn’t the one we expected!

“Mission to Pluto”

Girard-Perregaux Casquette 2.0: A Quartz-Powered Trip Back To The Future

(The life of a hand model has gotta be rougher than their skin, but the GP Casquette 2.0 is a nice prop against the meticulously manicured digits)

The world is a strange place, and the stubborn affection we watch lovers have for basically anything other than our omnipresent and omniscient (but not necessarily always benevolently so) smart phones and smart watches to give us the most fundamental of information, is possibly irrefutable proof that the heart is an organ notably more compelling than the brain. Of course, there’s a lot more to our adoration of high-craft mechanical watches than keeping us on schedule! Chief among those would include a connection with human achievement, an appreciation for artistry and craft, and our longing for mythically simpler or more hopeful times–a time-traveling machine of sorts, rather than a machine for time keeping, if you will. There’s more than a bit of irony, to me at least, that enough water has passed under the bridge that even digital quartz watches, the very antithesis of classical mechanical watches when they emerged, and a force that nearly killed the latter off entirely before the “Mechanical Revolution” of the late 1980s and early 1990s, have entered our space as objects of renewed affection and appreciation–perhaps a silent recognition of a time in history when newly emerging technology still felt exciting and universe opening, rather than domineering and all-consuming. And with that, enter Girard-Perregaux’s new wrist-born time machine, the Casquette 2.0!

(The whimsical packaging is just part of the pleasure inherent in GP’s Casquette 2.0)

Girard-Perregaux, a somewhat dusty but nonetheless venerable name amongst classical Swiss watchmaking houses, is best known for its magnificent Tourbillon With Three Bridges Of Gold and the many iterations of it that have appeared over the years. The company has also produced many other fine complicated pieces, some interesting dive watches, and a plethora of beautiful, simple dress watches, normally featuring calibers the brand has manufactured and refined in-house. This point is something GP is appreciated for among the cognoscenti because they followed that practice long before the now-vaunted manufacture caliber was an expectation for a “serious” Maison. But less known is that Girard-Perregaux was also an early player in quartz timepieces, keeping in mind that in the late 1960s and 1970s, it appeared that this ultra-precise, battery powered technology was The Way; Swiss companies from humble to mighty were all scrambling to get on board, and remain in the business of selling watches to a public suddenly demanding something very different than old fashioned wheels and pinions. Girard-Perregaux was an early contributor to that mighty leap into timekeeping precision, and by the introduction of their first quartz caliber in 1970, even established the 32.768 Hertz vibration frequency that would become the industry standard for the quartz oscillator to the present day. But, beyond all of that disruption, the 1970s was also an era of extremely bold fashion, obviously, and analog quartz watches eventually saw an exciting new sibling for the hyper-accurate quartz movement technology: the wildly futuristic LED digital display! First seen in the almost absurdly expensive 1972 Hamilton/Pulsar P1, I can only imagine how Space Age the digital readout would have seemed to viewers then, probably provoking reactions not unlike those to the at-the-time cutting edge special effects of 1977’s Star Wars, which debuted just one year after the original Casquette.

(Sleek, stylish, and a little foreboding, the Casquette 2.0 is a striking fashion statement as well as a digital luxury watch par excellence)

Only 8,200 original Casquette watches were produced by Girard-Perregaux, and they have become quite collectible, particularly in the rarest all-black synthetic variant in polycarbonate. Obviously, this variant, rather than the shell gold or steel variants which also saw production, is the one the brand has paid homage to, and it seems very fitting giving the sleek design, striking angles, and futuristic space-travel sort of vibe the watch evokes. The materials have been updated in an intelligent yet coherent manner, with the case and bracelet being from black ceramic for absolute scratch resistant permanence, and the caseback section, pushers, and a little Girard-Perregaux “GP” logo of Grade 5 titanium for just a bit of scintillating contrast against that visual vacuum of sheer blackness. The bracelet, which appears highly articulated, should be very comfortable, even more so due to a rubber lining on the interior and a fairly basic but sleek single-deployant clasp in titanium. Beyond the feathery lightness of ceramic and titanium, the dimensions are reasonable too, at just 42.40mm from lug-to-lug, and 33.60mm across. The Casquette 2.0 is stylish, and visually provocative while being simultaneously stealthy as a ninja’s garb, and one hell of a conversation piece if you desire it to be so. It goes without saying, that while they are mighty against scratches and wear, watches of ceramic construction don’t handle sharp impacts well….so, please don’t drop your Casquette 2.0! What’s more, there are only 820 of them slated for production, although they won’t be individually numbered. Price, at $4,700 is either reasonable, or heinous, depending upon what your views on quartz digital technology are, and, what premium you place on history, attention to design details, and quality of materials. While I’m not a quartz guy in general, I can appreciate that the quartz oscillator was immensely important, still has its place in the world of watches, and quartz watches from their inception to the present do in fact occupy a broad spectrum of quality, capability, and importance, just as mechanical ones do. The Girard-Perregaux Casquette 2.0 is decidedly special, and it’s fair to recognize it is a true luxury object. Moreover, it is one created with care, and respect for a very dynamic time in horology.

(It may not look like much, uncased, but this tubular LED display is where you’ll interact with your Casquette 2.0. Lots of retro-futuristic fun!)

Being that this Girard-Perregaux has a very function-oriented quartz caliber, we needn’t dally long on the decorative nuances…there aren’t any to note. But, what the battery-powered GP3980 lacks in angled bridges, an exotic mechanical escapement, black polished screws, and ultra-thin construction, it makes up for in the delight of its stark red indications, of which the owner will get a few to play with: The time (adjustable between 12-hour and 24-hour formats), a second time zone, the day/date/month/year, a chronograph, and somewhat whimsically…a secret, programmable date to remind you of a big anniversary of importance limited to only your own imagination, or priorities. Depending on how crucial that date may be, the Casquette 2.0 can even be set up to remind you on a daily basis! Interestingly, the displays are normally in a powered-down mode, so to see or toggle through the modes, you simply need to press the polished titanium pusher, and the watch will spring to life. While some may find the power-down feature annoying, I think it’s a good one, as it preserves battery life for the longest possible interval (GP says approximately two years) when you’re rotating through other watches in the collection, while also giving you more occasion to interact with the piece when you do choose to sport it. Besides, even without the red LED grabbing our eyeballs, the murdered out, high-fashion 1970s futurism aspect of the Casquette 2.0 surely always will.

(Even without the ominous red LED display, the Casquette is a lethal looker, and a scintillating object to be appreciated)

Omega Kicks Off 2022 In Fine Style With The Ultimate Speedmaster Chronograph

Happy New Year everyone! 2022 is here, and Omega has set it off with their own very bold New Year Resolution: the creation of, quite possibly, the ultimate iteration of their legendary Speedmaster chronograph, just in time for the grand watch’s 65th anniversary. Now, understand that when I say that, I take fully into account the exceptional depth of the Speedmaster’s history both within Omega’s brand story arc, and the staggering breadth of the Speedmaster collection, itself. That latter aspect can be awe-inspiring on one hand and occasionally tiresome on the other, given the plethora of limited edition examples and commemorative releases that leave one somewhat numb to the nature of what “special” really is. In this instance, no confusion exists, nor is there any need for some limited edition marketing gimmick to convey the point: the execution in this watch more than suffices.

This watch, the Speedmaster Calibre 321 Canopus Gold is an extraordinary reference in every aspect, from the luxury materials it’s crafted from, the movement which powers it, and the true-to-heritage design honoring one of the most beloved, iconic chronographs ever created by Omega. It’s price tag is…well, pretty staggering, especially compared against even basic precious metal models of more basic Speedies, but I can’t say that it surprises me. The Calibre 321 Canopus Gold is a watch for a select few, not just those well-endowed of wallet, but those with the deepest possible reverence for the history behind the Speedmaster collection, and a desire to own something which is exceedingly special, yet barely whispers as it enters the room. But what is whispered, is oh so sweet. You might say this is the Omega chronograph equivalent of a platinum or white gold Patek Philippe minute repeater with enamel dial, like the legendary Ref. 3939. Even beyond the price and rarity, only a select few of the cognoscenti will understand (or even perceive the significance what they’re looking at) and that’s the whole point behind pieces like these, which raise a proverbial glass of the finest to the dedicated lovers. As mentioned, it doesn’t even need to be a limited edition, in strict terms anyway; the Canopus 321 will remain in production on the go forward, being limited by the small quantity of 321 movements to be produced by Omega annually, the exclusive materials, and the even smaller enthusiast base who will commit the high five figures needed to secure the most expensive Speedmaster in current production.

Before the Speedmaster Professional Moonwatch was, and the entire connection to space exploration and steps on the moon, the Speedmaster was. Simply, the humble yet very capable Omega Speedmaster, a chronograph intended for race car drivers, and others who might find the chronograph and its supplementary tachymeter scale useful for calculating average speeds and other rates of measure, as well as marking off elapsed time for more mundane tasks. And the Speedmaster Calibre 321 Canopus Gold pays homage–very faithful homage I’ll add–to that first Speedmaster model from 1957, the distinctive and unmistakably period CK2915. How faithful? Well, Omega has managed to duplicate the exact 38.6mm diameter, 48mm lug-to-lug length, and even the overall thickness of the watch at just under 14mm, even to include the crystal profile despite the modern one being in a modern sapphire material, against than the 2915’s 1950’s-typical acrylic. Yet, despite with the upgrade to sapphire, the beautiful cambered shape remains, and even features an engraved Omega logo on the inside, recalling this traditional mark still seen on the inside surface of hesalite-topped Speedies.

So, it’s faithful to the historic predecessor, in much the same way as the much more attainable 1957 Broad Arrow Speedmaster from 2017 was. Yet, there is so much more with the Canopus 321 to take this Speedmaster into a level of artistry almost touching in its dedication and thoroughness. Take for example the tachymeter bezel, whose markings you might think are filled in to the Canopus gold material with a durable glossy paint, but are actually in grand feu enamel, laid down in several layers and kiln fired multiple times to fix it to the gold, and then assure the splendid, glossy final appearance. The dial is created with similar love for both perfection and luxurious appointment. No paint to be found anywhere, this one is created from the gemstone black onyx, in a meticulous tripartite construction: the back plate, of brass has three applied onyx subdials for the chronograph registers, another onyx layer, with the appropriate cutouts, is placed atop that to create a charming step effect, and finally an outer ring in the same material shows the minutes and seconds markings in absolute clarity. A white gold hand-set, each given a treatment with the greyer toned Canopus gold to match the case, completes the functional work of art. Yet despite all of this opulence, the vintage tool nature of the timepiece is undiminished, preserving the ethos of this classic of classic vintage sport chronographs. To me, the total package is absolutely triumphal!

(The famous 321 caliber, and the laser-etched Hippocampus, it’s eye inset in a blue sapphire gemstone)

Omega’s decision to reissue the famous 321 caliber, painstakingly created from blueprints of the original Lemania-based chronograph mechanism used in early Speedmasters, got a lot of press in the last couple years, first in the flagship platinum 321 model, and after that, the highly coveted stainless steel version that still commands a substantial waiting list, and high aftermarket prices. Unlike most other Omega calibers which see multiple watchmaker’s hands in their assembly line type of construction, each 321 is fully the responsibility of a single watchmaker in a special atelier of the brand dedicated to these chronograph movements. Beyond this fact, which necessarily limits the numbers which can be produced each year compared to more industrialized movements (like the new 3861), are a number of horological niceties the high horology lover will adore: a column wheel control for the chronograph switching, a large screw-weighted balance wheel complete with a hand-crafted Breguet overcoil hairspring in blued steel (naturally beating at a stately 18,000 vph), and bridges with nicely chamfered edges, as well as a grained finish finely garnished with a layer of reddish Sedna gold for that extra degree of distinction. (This was the movement which featured in the Speedmasters which saw the moon’s surface, after all.)

A special feature of the caseback view of the Canopus 321 Speedmaster, compared to its no-less coveted 321 siblings, is a sapphire glass etched with the famous Hippocampus/seahorse logo. My first reaction to this was one of slight disappointment because I felt it detracted from an ability to see the lovely 321 movement; after looking more closely, I began to appreciate the detail itself, and one in particular: the tiny blue eye of the seahorse creature is an actual sapphire gemstone, which Omega has painstakingly set into the sapphire back glass. They achieved this by creating a minuscule laser-carved indentation into the sapphire glass, into which a platinum setting complete with the sapphire gemstone is placed! Needless to say, it’s a really incredible detail, and an impressive feat of Omega’s manufacturing prowess, all while being very subtle and barely noticeable at most angles. Moreover, the sapphire Hippocampus is another example of the many labors of love this watch embodies, which barely reveal themselves unless you seek them.

A watch of this sort deserves a bracelet that is no less regal, and Omega delivered there as well. This classic flat-link bracelet, which shares the same design as the stainless steel 321 variant introduced previously, is crafted from the Omega’s proprietary Canopus 18K gold alloy, a formulation that is true to color all the way through, unlike typical white golds. Solid all the way through, and adding a stately heft to the special watch it supports, the design really strikes an balance between rugged construction, understated appearance, and just the right amount of polished surfaces to retain a dash of tasteful luxury. Even better, Omega added a concealed slider to the clasp to enable effortless tool-free adjustments of the bracelet to the tune of just over two millimeters, making this an all-season companion. This, combined with the delightfully compact–and to me, simply perfect 38.6mm case diameter–case, means this Omega showpiece has all the qualifications to be a regular player in a top-shelf rotation of watches, rather than a prissy benchwarmer best left in the safe. The 321 movement, despite its prestige, defined the early history of the Omega Speedmaster as a true tool watch for the ages, and is hardly a wilting violet in terms of ruggedness. You might not want to dish it out on something so beautiful, but this caliber has what it takes to roll with life’s vicissitudes, just like the watch housing it.

Three distinct dial components in onyx make this one exceptional Speedmaster dial! Yet, the functionality and clarity are undiminished.

To me, the Speedmaster Calibre 321 in Canopus gold is a real treasure, and epitomizes the term “heirloom”. In a world awash with luxury watches, some of them very fine and many bearing lofty price tags, this one strikes me as something genuinely and memorably special. Rarely do you see a watch designed with little to no compromise, for the pure enthusiast; even among the most prestigious brands, many models compromise something here or there, to eke a little tighter profit margin out of the end product. Here is a watch that showcases a historic, hand-crafted chronograph mechanism within a timelessly beautiful vintage design from a golden era of wristwatches, and laden to the hilt with luxury materials, as well as discreet, thematic easter eggs of the most sublime variety. In discreet white gold, there is no overt ostentation, no showboating of any kind; the Canopus 321 could blend in anywhere, appearing to all the world like yet another smallish stainless steel chronograph, or just another humble off-the-rack Speedmaster at most. Yet, the robust nature of the watch, its historic capability as a tool, and the fine yet also unquestionably tough movement also means it has every bit the usability of its more attainable model brethren. While many buyers won’t put a watch this rare and expensive to the test, this is the kind of exquisite item that begs to be used, pleads for some honest wear, and gives it back at the end of the day with memories that can be passed on, just like the similarly coveted stainless steel and platinum versions of the resurrected 321 Speedmasters. Viewed as a comprehensive object of historic, yet imminently wearable luxury watchmaking at the highest level, the $81,000 price tag seems…well, if not a bargain, much, much easier to justify. I’ll go as far as to say that were I so able, my order for a Canopus 321 Calibre Speedmaster would already be in the queue at Omega.

An exquisite hardwood and leather presentation box complete with a loupe fittingly accompanies the Canopus 321