Tag: Swiss watches

The H. Moser & Cie. Pioneer Mega Cool: A Personal Trip To The Dial Of The Green Lagoon

Posted on by Adam Keith

Watches might be fantastic, but it is those friendships and human stories around the ticking treasures we watch idiot savants pursue that are vastly better and ultimately, incalculably more valuable. With that preface aside, I got a recent call from a good friend (and fellow horological geek, naturally), who had just returned from a business trip. Not unexpectedly, during this trip he went searching for watch retailers—you know, just to look and see the sights!–and, found himself a victim of the siren song in one of a series of conveniently adjacent boutiques. Some things just don’t stay in Las Vegas, as it turned out, and he returned with a lovely H. Moser & Cie. wristwatch. Naturally I couldn’t resist the opportunity to see the piece live, so we sidled up to the bar to chat a few days ago. What emerged from the watch roll surprised and delighted me in equal measure.

H. Moser & Cie. is an innovative company, a company with a sense of humor, and a Swiss watch brand that is unafraid to go its own way. These are well established virtues, and all admirable in their own right, especially for an upstart, fairly young brand. But a watch still has to “hit” a certain way, aesthetically, technically or otherwise–and the Pioneer Centre Seconds Mega Cool certainly does just that. Decidedly imposing at 42.8mm, but not quite over the borderline into unreasonable, the diameter makes sense in the way it gives full breath to the bewitching, polychromatic fume dial. And that is, of course, what really what makes this variant of the deceptively simple Pioneer collection, such a standout. While critics of “negative space” on dials are vocal about their dislikes, and I can respect differences of opinion, this one can be the eternal verdant void for all I care, as the end result is less a mere face for hands, than a scintillating miniature oceanic paradise. And like the ocean, the water’s colors and tonalities shift with every shift of the light source, light type, or arm movement. It’s both mesmerizing and relaxing to behold, and epitomizes why the H. Moser fume is such a superstar in terms of luxury watch dials. The hands upon it are really beautiful, too; I found myself particularly drawn to the creamy white seconds hand, which really stood out as it swept over the impossibly deep surface where greens and blues gave way to a near-black at the edges. Lume? Not terribly bright, as I did my best to discreetly cup the watch into the darkness of my palm in the establishment after a quick 500 lumen hit from my trusty Surefire EDCL1-T, but this is more a watch to be enjoyed in the bright splendor of a sunny day. I’ll confess I really didn’t care all that much that the glow emanating from the hands and hour pips wasn’t torch-like, and there are other famous timepieces that exist for that peculiar pleasure within the hobby.

The case of the H. Moser & Cie. Pioneer is as interesting in form as it is notable in finishing details. Finely machined striations fill in cavernous indentations in the lugs, seemingly to echo the similarly exacting serrations on the screwed-in winding crown, a feature aiding the watch in achieving its solid 120 meter water resistance. Buckles rendered with care and attention to both thematic and finishing nuances are always appreciated when it comes to top-tier luxury watches, and the Mega Cool delivers here nicely, showing off polished bevels, discreet brushing, and as you can see just above…the selfsame striation pattern that adorns the hollowed strap lugs. Speaking of straps, the blue green fabric unit supplied with the Mega Cool was one of the few aspects of the watch that missed the mark, at least a little, for my own tastes. This was not for any qualitative reason, as the strap is nicely constructed and stitched–it just struck me as being a bit too much, when paired with the glorious blue green dial. A little more contrast would be welcomed, and of course, this can be easily and simply rectified with a strap swap. My friend commented that while he was decidedly captivated with his new H. Moser Pioneer Mega Cool, he wasn’t sure when he’d find the occasion to wear it–largely because of its potent and perhaps even dominating color themes. When I mentioned that a strap swap might make it a little more versatile, he suddenly seemed to perk up. It’s what I’d do, at any rate. Something in light cream, or tan, would make this one of the most stunning all-occasion luxury summer sports watches for that you could possibly imagine. And to be fair, it’d get plenty of wrist time the other three seasons as well!

True to any really special mechanical watch, the view through the back is a confirmation that the sizable funds spent went to an object worthy of the outlay. H. Moser & Cie. is known for its innovative yet practical movements, and while the Pioneer Mega Cool doesn’t showcase any complications beyond central seconds, the HMC 200 caliber exudes an appealing combination of sturdiness, refinement, and engineering cleverness that seem decidedly German-Swiss, in the best traditions of Schaffhausen. Decoration, such as the broad stripes on the bridges, and bevels on the bridges, is clean and elegant, if largely machine applied, but somehow it all seems appropriate to the mission of the mechanism. The large, bi-directional winding rotor with it’s pawl-based transfer system conveys robustness and strength, yet has the refinement to remain an interesting visual inclusion. The balance bridge, with its slightly vaulted form, is the star of the show for me, both for its seductive shape, and relatively large balance wheel with the unique “Straumann” double hairspring. The balance assembly–including the innovative dual hairspring module–is designed to be easily removed for servicing/replacement in the manner of other watches of the brand, and highlights H. Moser’s commitment to horological performance as well as mere good looks. Overall, I’d describe the caliber as appropriate to a distinguished sports watch, yet with the refinement that goes far beyond an off the rack workhorse. Indeed, unlike even something highly respected like a Jaeger-LeCoultre base caliber, you’ll only find the HMC 200 in a watch with an H. Moser & Cie. signature. Exclusivity? Check!

Yet, admitted movement fetishist that I am, it was the dial side of this watch that most stole my heart, and really…I’m sure I’m not alone in that rapture. It was an enjoyable experience to put this one on, and see what all the excitement has been about. In a sea of beautiful luxury watches, this one actually puts the aquamarine glitter of a tropical paradise on your wrist, and has a visual presence scarcely matched by anything short of heavy hitting gem-set watches. Uncommon, sophisticated, and alluring, the Pioneer Mega Cool certainly lives up to its bold and confident name.

Patek Philippe 5326G-001 Travel Time: Technical Panache Meets Casual Elegance, For A New Benchmark In Annual Calendars

Posted on by Adam Keith

Patek Philippe put on quite the impressive showing at Watches and Wonders this year, with some fantastic new references to enrich its distinguished catalog. The watch press has expended the fair measure of proverbial ink for good reason, and I’ll join the fray with my thoughts over one of the most lauded, the 5326G-001 Dual Time Annual Calendar. One of the most versatile and useful complicated watches the house has produced in years, it’s the sort of ticking treasure that a cynical horology geek can appreciate most after loving and losing many watches…largely in pursuit of that elusive grail that can accompany one no matter the occasion, yet embody the highest standards of craftsmanship. Refined yet pleasantly capable of casual wear thanks to its design nuances and material contrasts, the 5326G unifies an impressive mechanism with day to day practicality. The overall result is a watch that is deeply prestigious in the best way of the mythic house of Patek Philippe, yet totally wearable on a day to day basis, with a discreet and outwardly humble mien. It’s also an important watch because it represents an evolution of a Patek Philippe innovation–the annual calendar, a clever and well-conceived mechanism requiring a manual calendar correction solely at the start of March. It was Patek, after all, who brought the very first such complication to market back in 1996, offering watch lovers a somewhat more financially reachable–and, easier to live with from a servicing perspective–alternative to its exquisite perpetual calendar offerings. Of course, at just over $75,000 USD this is an eye-wateringly expensive bauble, as are most complicated Patek Philippes. But is it still a good value? As such odd anachronisms as finely crafted mechanical watches go from a brand as sought after as this, I’d say emphatically “yes”, however grotesque that may sound at purely face value. (If all else fails when you contemplate PP pricing vs availability, a quick look at various Nautilus valuations will make the innovative 5326G look like a comparative bargain!) But nevertheless, crass discussions about blue book numbers aren’t the point here, and the watch itself transcends those deftly with its charm and intelligence.

(An intricately made case, with numerous classical Patek Philippe design signatures, is a highlight of the 5326)

Vibes of the legendary Ref. 3448 “Padellone”–one of Patek’s greatest vintage perpetual calendars–are strong with this one, particularly through the strongly set off, attached lugs. This is a white gold case with character, and a strong one at that, but rich with many refined details, from the distinct angular strap horns, to the broad polished surfaces, particularly in the deliciously broad bezel that appeals to me in much the same way as the smooth bezels on the Rolex Explorer do. It’s an elegant and refined look, yet not overdone with bling. That…you’ll find on the case flanks, but tastefully so, where Patek’s trademark “Clous de Paris” hobnail lurks in a glorious 5-row high stack. These tiny, sharply defined diamonds of polished 18K gold reflect light play brilliantly, yet because of their location on the sides of the watch, are much more readily known to the wearer, than an observer from afar. Still, for the lucky one who has one of these buckled on, the complex contrasts create texture and intrigue and provide a delightful dichotomy against the comparative brute strength of the unusual and surprisingly sporty dial. At 41mm in diameter, the Ref. 5326 Annual Calendar is not a restrained dress Patek of old. Still, the diameter is appropriate to let the indications stretch their hands, so to speak, and the reasonably slim 11.7mm thickness means it’ll do no less ably in more formal environs.

The unusual granular dial is sure to divide people: Traditionalists of Patek Philippe may well feel it strangely rough and atypical of the classic and notably formal Patek Philippe opaline designs, while younger or more adventurous watch fans are sure to be refreshed by the interesting texture, and exotic vintage-inspired tonalities of burnt brown and ecru. That same sense of versatility and elegant sportiness is given further wings from the presence of impressive luminosity when the lights go down, courtesy of ample superluminova filling the white gold hands and Arabic hour plots. As you may have guessed, I’m squarely in the “fan camp”, finding the look of this model a welcome departure from the hyper-conservative Patek Philippe expectation, yet one that sacrifices none of the lasting aesthetic appeal a watch of this pedigree should have. Despite the unusual (but tasteful) dial, thanks to the overall design and intricate quality of the casework, the 5326G offers everything a Patek dress watch can muster. To reiterate my point at the start, this is one of those deeply memorable high horology pieces that has the rare combination of qualities that make it appropriate–and desirable–pretty much all the time, with the possible exception of aquatic adventure, where the 30m water resistance falls short of the requisite security most sensible buyers would be comfortable with. But beyond that constructive limitation, where couldn’t one love and enjoy the 5326G’s combination of rich materials, intricate textures, and inviting warm tones? And that’s even before considering the impressive mechanism that resides within, and what it offers, both technically and aesthetically.

(Luscious hand-applied Geneva waves, shapely finger bridges, and a platinum microrotor. The latter boosts winding efficiency nicely!)

A sapphire back is expected, and the view it delivers of the 31-260 (PS QA LU FUS 24H) caliber does not disappoint. Visually, the mechanism invokes the famous 240 microrotor caliber, but offers more to see than that stalwart, with classical Swiss separated “finger bridges” for the gear train exposing more of the inner secrets of power delivery. Deliciously broad Cotes de Geneve patterns give a tacit statement of the hand-finishing expertise involved; the anglage applied to the edges of the rhodium-plated bridges, while narrow, and not as deeply rounded as some competitors, is nonetheless attractive, and the baseplate sparkles with multiple sizes of perlage, a texture once applied to assist any errant dust from reaching the mechanism, but in an era of vastly better case sealing, becomes simply a charming thing to behold. The rotor, complete with the Calatrava cross and circular Geneva waves, is wrought from platinum–a material choice that is as notable for its winding efficiency, as much as any added prestige. The famous freely-sprung Gyromax balance is present, as expected, and should preserve the precision of the exacting 6-position adjustments the Patek Philippe watchmakers have given it, as it beats away at a modern 4Hz pulse. So, it’s clear that the 31-260 is a very nicely finished and constructed high horology movement, as you’d expect from this famous manufacture, yet, the devil is in the details of its 409 components, which unite to power an annual calendar as well as a backwards and forwards adjustable dual time display with day/night indication. Such was the challenge, that no less than eight patents define what lies behind the alluring, finely pebbled charcoal dial.

(View beneath the dial, showing the discs for day, month, date, moon phase, and dual day/night indication. 8 patents in all are behind it, and govern everything from practical functionality when crossing time zones, to protecting the mechanism from inadvertent damage)

The ultimate achievement of this movement, I think, is in its ability to convey the most useful supplementary information most of us would value, all while presenting a pleasing sense of serenity and simplicity. More and more in the frenzied hustle and bustle of the 21st century, I ask myself, does glancing down at (whichever) unnecessary mechanical watch happens to be on my wrist, add to…or detract from…my sense of calm and momentary presence? Can it transport me, as if by magic, to a place of order and harmony…even if only for a moment? This watch, as with so many classic Patek Philippe calendar watches of yesteryear, could pass that test with the most brilliant of flying colors! Despite telling us the day and month at the top of the dial, the phases of the moon inside the sub seconds dial at six, and the status of day/night indication in two time zones at once in two discreet and diminutive circular apertures, calm reigns in this impressively sophisticated complicated watch. Yet, and even better, it does this while retaining ease of operation. While the month and day/date are adjusted via classical caseband pushers (of which there are three) most of the hardest used functions, such as advancing the local hour hand in increments back or forwards, can be ideally operated via the crown, as a proper tool watch should. Did I just say “tool watch”?! Seems discordant where a fine Patek Philippe is concerned, but to a frequent world traveler or international professional, the 5326G certainly offers pleasing functionality fully equal to any more pedestrian options. And, unlike the sacrilege of using a priceless Kamakura-period katana to efficiently carve your turkey, or delimb an overgrown small tree, the team at Patek Philippe fully blesses your full-service use of this beautiful watch! They’ve clearly put a lot of thought into the well-heeled connoisseur who would use and cherish this rare but handy horological companion: just one example of this is the mechanism to drive the date change, now propelled directly by the local hour wheel, and significantly faster than any annual calendar reference previously offered. It assures that your calendar isn’t left too far behind (or ahead) as you switch the independently settable hour hand into a new time zone, a rather important detail. Yet, when you are relaxing in your own hemisphere, free from the hectic considerations of the business world, the skeletonized syringe hand representing home can remain discreetly tucked away beneath its primary white gold twin, returning us to the harmonious bliss hinted at earlier. Yet, OCD fanatics (and chronometry nerds) who delight in testing the precision of their watches against a reference time, will also appreciate that this innovative Patek Philippe movement also offers hacking seconds, for precise setting. A further nicety that speaks to the considerable refinements of the caliber is a reduction wheel that disconnects the auto-wind system during any time the piece is manually wound, saving just a little more wear and tear. Thoughtful, indeed, and clearly a watch designed by, and for, top notch watchmakers–another assurance that the heirloom status always expected of a Patek Philippe remains untarnished into the 21st century.

(Two supplied straps give the watch awesome versatility. In truth the 5326G will look amazing on many different straps!)

At the end of the day, the Reference 5326G is one of the all-around neatest watches to emerge from Patek Philippe in some time. To my way of thinking, it pays ample respect to the classic greatness of the fruitful era under Henri and Philippe Stern, while showing that heir to the throne Thierry has firmly grasped the scepter of rule to advance his own distinct vision of the house’s values. The fact that Patek is delivering these with two straps as standard procedure–the tan nubuck calf leather seen in the header, along with an additional embossed calf strap that looks shockingly like top-quality synthetic fabric–gives a hint of how much versatility was intended by the design team. All style-points aside, though, nothing about this piece deviates from the 183-year pursuit of watchmaking finesse and innovation that have propelled Patek Philippe to the summit of prestige in the Swiss high watchmaking hierarchy–and kept it there–despite very distinguished and capable competition.

(The white gold deployant clasp features the classic Calatrava cross of the Patek Philippe brand)

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

Posted on by Adam Keith
(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

Posted on by Adam Keith
(“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)

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

Posted on by Adam Keith
“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

Posted on by Adam Keith
(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)

H. Moser & Cie. Endeavour Perpetual Calendar Tutorial: The World’s Coolest Instruction Manual, And One Hell Of A (Simple!) Complex Watch

Posted on by Adam Keith
(The limited edition Tutorial version of the Endeavour Perpetual calendar, next to the original model sans “instruction manual”)

Note the twins pictured here, which aren’t quite identical. Two 42mm white gold H. Moser & Cie. watches which are mechanically and dimensionally the same, but one with…well, just something a little different going on! That’s right, the one on the left is our watch under discussion, bringing the mystery of H. Moser’s delightfully simple perpetual calendar seen on the right, clearly to light, in an exercise that’s either ridiculously cheesy, or possessed of a considerable sense of humor, depending on your perspective. In the rather dark and dystopian days of the 2020s I tend to find it more of the latter, and beyond that, some possible proof that hardcore high horology need not take itself too seriously to be enjoyable. (Based on what we’ve seen from other H. Moser & Cie. watches, it’s apparent the company also feels similarly.) Could that make me a jaded guy who’s been around this odd hobby too long? Possibly. But, if you share my appreciation for finely crafted things that tick, perhaps you also may find some joy, however fleeting, in this strangely straightforward yet charmingly quirky H. Moser perpetual calendar timepiece. Among its many virtues, the Endeavour Perpetual Tutorial showcases the prodigious grey matter of independent watchmaking legend Andreas Strehler, who among more than a few notable feats, provided the technical solutions powering Harry Winston’s Opus 7, a beautiful watch offering a unique, and charmingly ephemeral, “butterfly” time display.

(The H. Moser Endeavour tells you the leap year cycle, but keeps this seldom used indicator on the reverse side of the watch)

Why would a manufacturer place literal spelled-out indications for the various functions all over the dial, especially on one as visually striking as this? Well, to the uninitiated, it would be tricky to perceive that the H. Moser Endeavour Perpetual in its stealth (i.e., standard) form would be anything but a simple time and date watch with an ravishing blue fumé dial and an extra hand for the power reserve indication. But there is more to this watch…much more, and to those unfamiliar with it, it might beg the question, once the truth of the watch’s complexity is known, “How does it work?? Where is the day, date month, to say nothing of leap year?” Philosophical answer: The Endeavour Perpetual minimizes things superfluous, smoothly integrates key functions where they create the least visual clutter, and joins it all together with a mechanism optimized for real world use, as well as a demonstration of traditional watchmaking flair.

(Despite the “instruction manual”, the Tutorial has all the charm and beauty of its regular sibling, right down to the mysterious fumé blue dial)

The Endeavour Perpetual is one of H. Moser’s mightiest timepieces–perhaps the most so–in the sense that it effortlessly blends the brand’s design ethos, sense of playfulness, and penchant for mechanical ingenuity, and does those things seamlessly while elevating one of the most impressive of traditional complications. Most perpetual calendar watches have dials with an imposing array of calendar information, to include the day of the week, the date, the month, and even the leap year indication, often in tandem with the moon phase. This smorgasbord of information, customarily given with pointer indications in elegant but minuscule subdials, gives such watches a classic, imposing stature, as their complexity is readily perceivable to even a fairly lay person. What these watches lose, however, is easy legibility and simplicity of operation. Some notable watches have emerged in years past by other innovative luxury brands such as Ulysse Nardin that offered ingenious backwards and forwards adjustable calendars, yet it remains pretty established that most perpetuals are a notable pain to set and reset if–God forbid–they should stop. Such watches are also notoriously easy to break if adjustments are made at the wrong time, or the various correctors are forced. Needless to say, if there were one mechanical watch that probably justifies the ownership of a fancy watch winder, it’s a traditional perpetual calendar (or two, or three) in one’s collection. Then again, if perpetual calendars like the H. Moser Endeavour were more the norm…well, that justification might just about evaporate entirely, save for perhaps the want of pretty pieces of furniture in which to store the collection!

Looking at an H. Moser Endeavour Perpetual on its face, it seems less to be a complex machine that keeps pace with the machinations of the date through the years, even to account for leap years, but to be a watch that just tells you the time and date, along with the power reserve indication for the lengthy 168 hours (7 days) the in-house manufactured HMC 800 caliber offers up. The Tutorial Limited Edition playfully lets us in on the secrets, and describes the subtle nuances of this very sophisticated and surprisingly practical high complication wristwatch, which can be crown-adjusted forwards and backwards with ease (and no mechanical danger) as well as effortlessly shifting the date ahead with “knowledge” of the length of months, even during a short February in leap year. Need to know if it’s currently a leap year? Once everything is properly set and running, just turn the watch over: the leap year indication has been shifted to the back, where it joins the assemblage of pretty mechanical components to look at, which include golden jewel chatons, separated bridges in classic pocket watch style, and a shapely balance bridge complete with a 14K gold balance assembly that Moser has optimized for easy replacement and adjustment when servicing is required. As mentioned, the date can be switched backwards as well as forwards, all with no damage to the mechanism. And of course, there’s the discreet monthly indicator in the central hand stack that moves but twelve times per year–neatly in accord with the twelve hour indicators doubling for months. The information is there, but the brilliant and forward thinking mechanism does this all without spoiling the harmony of an achingly elegant, visually simple design.

This is the sort of watch that would pique even the interest of a non-watch person, I’d like to think. They might gently accost you with the usual “why do you like these mechanical watches?”, or, “why spend so much money on a silly, outdated thing? Veblen is laughing at you from the Great Beyond.” But, then they get curious. Perhaps it’s at this point they ask “well, what is a perpetual calendar anyway?” After telling them how they work and what they do, they suddenly seem quite impressed and rather bemused that a little micro-machine whose origins go back well over two centuries, can disseminate all of that information. They may wonder out loud, as inquisitiveness gets the best of them, “Well, ok, how do you read one of these things? With this watch, there’s barely anything even there!” Then, rather than telling them, you put the H. Moser & Cie. Endeavour Tutorial carefully in their hand, and watch their own cogs start to spin as the dial spells it out a little bit at a time. Talk about a high-grade horological gateway drug!

Zenith Defy Skyline: High Frequency Watchmaking That Channels The 1970s

Posted on by Adam Keith

Manufacture Zenith = El Primero = Hi-Beat Chronograph. Right? Well, yes, but not necessarily always. “Say…what?” Ok, bear with me here. On the one hand, Zenith is rightly celebrated for being an innovative chronograph manufacture, with one of the most historically significant high frequency chrono caliber families to date, and one which provided a base for Rolex’s selfwinding Daytona Cosmograph before Big Green brought out their mighty manufacture 4130. It’s what Zenith is known for to watch aficionados, and rightly so. At the same time, Zenith does, and historically speaking long did, make simpler watches. As of this year, examples of those non-chronograph watches now bring to bear the same rapidly pulsating mechanical wizardry of their more complex brethren, which brings us to the new Defy Skyline here. Sure to raise eyebrows and provoke discussion, Zenith has seen fit to introduce styling and finishes that will provide possibly tempting–and importantly, actually obtainable–alternatives to 1970s legends like the impossible to get Patek Philippe Nautilus, the nearly-impossible to get Audemars Piguet Royal Oak, and the getting-close-to-impossible Vacheron Constantin Overseas. What’s more, the dials in these Zenith watches have a visceral mechanical life that the more expensive competition can’t quite match for drama, thanks to….yes, a rapidly thundering 1/10th second subsidiary second display!

Comparisons between those aforementioned Big Boys are inevitable, but is that really such a bad thing? Gerald Genta certainly created designs of gargantuan lasting power in the 1970s, and after outgrowing a very short period of acceptance, the iconic “portholes with integrated bracelets” he wrought for the Holy Trinity of Watchmaking have gone on to become not just the pinnacle of 1970s luxury sports watch design, but the very archetype for luxury…period. While not a Genta design, the well known (and now quite collectible) Rolex Oysterquartz family borrowed heavily from the same design language, and few criticized Rolex for flattering Genta with such sincere imitation. Besides, Zenith’s original Defy models, first seen on the market in the late 1960s–and offered again as a tribute model of its own–indeed preceded the Royal Oak and Nautilus to market, their angular bezels perhaps even inspiring Genta in some way to create his famous designs in the short years to come. As the pictures show, the Defy Skyline has that familiar 70s magic, from the angular bezel, the complex yet sturdy bracelet with alluring facets and sumptuous brushing, and dials that captivate as much with rich texture as vibrant and bold color. It’s a winning formula, and Zenith has reached into their storied past with respect, yet modernized their original Defy concept for contemporary expectations of luxurious appointment.

The stainless steel case is 41mm across, a span well in keeping with modern tastes, yet it deftly avoids the excess measurements that might doom it to the fate of becoming an eventual garish fashion statement. A reasonable twelve millimeters tall from sapphire back to sapphire crystal, this is also a watch that will fulfill a wide spectrum of sartorial demands, while being a stylish player with any of them. The contrasting brushed and polished finishes are absolutely eye-catching, as are the distinctive dials complete with a subtle yet alluring star-patterning which echoes the famous Zenith brand symbol gleaming below the baton twelve o’clock hour marker. That index, like its companions around the dial edge, is finely polished and strikes a pleasing dialogue with the faceted baton hands, all showing plenty of Superluminova for a satisfying glow when light gets scarce. An absolutely fantastic user capability of the Zenith Defy is a quick-change strap system at the lugs that allows nearly effortless swaps between the tapered integral bracelet with a butterfly-type deployant clasp, and alternative straps. Let it be said that you don’t need to order extras either, unless you wish to: Zenith supplies an attractively matched rubber strap with each Defy timepiece, blue for the blue dial, black for the black version, and a nice khaki toned one for the dressiest silver variant. This is definitely going to be an instance of some watch-buying indecision, as each of the dials have plenty of charm and panache. I’m personally torn between the blue and black for this multi-faceted Defy timepiece, but I certainly wouldn’t kick the silver out of bed. Between the bracelet and straps, any of the Defy Skyline models are supremely versatile companions, and with a healthy 100m water resistance rating, they can accompany you pretty much anywhere, no matter the season.

(As with newer sports watches from AP and Vacheron Constantin, a quick strap change system means effortless swaps between bracelet and strap)

Aesthetics aside, the Defy Skyline has quite the eyebrow-raising automatic movement, especially for a simple three handed watch with date. Naturally manufactured by Zenith (as if there were any other way!), the caliber 3620 serves up a robust 60 hours of power reserve, an impressive feat considering the energy hunger that surely drives the rapidly pulsing balance wheel rocking two and fro 36,000 times each hour. Strange to see this oscillator outside of a chronograph application, it directly powers the small but mighty subsidiary seconds hand that moves in ten blistering steps on the dial each second, and gives a uniquely animated feel to what otherwise would be a fairly sedate, no-fuss sports watch. Decorative nuances are fairly spare–this is a high quality but industrially finished caliber–but it makes a pleasant impression, and if you like star themes (the rotor is a big one, to cue the brand’s marquee) and some heat-treated blue screws, you’ll enjoy what you see through the exhibition back. But ultimately, the main thing is Zenith’s unwavering commitment to a high performance fast beat movement, and the materials and lubricants needed to support the reliable operation of it for years to come. Even better, you get to see the fruits of that high frequency innovation every day as you look at the time, somehow calm and subtly frenetic all at the same time. The fact that said 1/10th second bravura comes without a chronograph complication makes it an enticingly odd standout amongst its peers, and the WIS in me rejoices at that. At $8,400, the Zenith Defy Skyline is not exactly cheap, but with heritage, striking finishing, and a movement that offers something fresh, this series is worth a serious look for a daily wear with flair for the exotic–as well as ties to a brand with deep history in the annals of Swiss mechanical watchmaking.

Blancpain Air Command Flyback Chronograph Is A Stunner In New Titanium And Blue Guise

Posted on by Adam Keith
(A Patek 5070P it isn’t, but no apologies are needed. Like that legend, this is a gorgeous two-counter blue chronograph!)

Say what you will about Blancpain, but the small manufacture from the idyllic little farmhouse in Le Brassus can certainly put the color blue to fabulous work. As with the previously discussed Bathyscaphe for Bucherer, this Air Command chronograph injects resplendent, beautiful blue into what is otherwise an already very appealing chronograph both inside and out. The result is a superb high horology wristwatch with interesting mechanical capabilities and a charming vintage-inspired design enhanced by razor sharp color and contrasting textures. One could even argue, somewhat convincingly, that this Blancpain watch represents pretty solid watchmaking value for its luxury asking price in our odd times of hyper-priced luxury. But more about that shortly. Let’s discuss the glamorous, newly attired Air Command Flyback in more detail, and see what makes it a standout.

(The coveted 2019 edition of the Air Command, next to its far rarer 1950s predecessor)

Fans of Blancpain and chronographs in general will find the piece immediately familiar in form and layout. It shares the same fundamentals in size, flyback chronograph functionality, and movement form the 500-piece limited edition Air Command Flyback Ref. AC01 1130 63A, which saw introduction in 2019 and quickly sold out…now of course available on the secondary market from time to time, at well above its retail price. That watch, as an aside, represented a quite faithful reproduction of an exceedingly rare semi-prototype Blancpain pilot’s chronograph from the 1950s, but it brought to the table an impressively modern self-winding caliber produced by the Manufacture Blancpain and complete with such niceties as column wheel switching, a vertical clutch for stutter-free operation of the start stop and return sequences, and a freely sprung balance wheel in silicon. Being a flyback chronograph gave this rendition of a pilot’s watch extra gravitas and meant that, just as in days of old when such things were in fact instruments of genuine necessity, our hypothetical pilot could trigger the crisply actuated chronograph repeatedly without a stop in between, keeping measurements in moments of airborne daredevilry just a little bit easier.

(Restrained but sublime haute de gamme finishing, and uncompromising technical details throughout define the F388B movement)

The titanium blue beauty here does all the same, and is animated by the same F388B mechanism, although the massive central rotor in 18K gold is a little more spare compared to the charmingly thematic plane propeller version inside the coveted steel sibling. Rather than stainless steel, the case of this Air Command is manufactured from an extremely unusual and very high grade of titanium, which the brand has also seen fit to promote in its revised Fifty Fathoms collection. Reserved for very specific applications–surgical/dental implantation, and certain aircraft components being two of the notables–Grade 23 titanium is costlier than, and superior to, other titanium alloys in many respects, to include corrosion resistance, ductile strength and durability. It has a lovely color, and although very difficult to work due to its extremely hard properties, takes a beautiful and lasting polish. That polish is something that Blancpain has lavished with tasteful care here and there, just enough to bring out a bit of glamour, without overpowering the ethos of the fundamental pilot’s tool. The clean and elegant case frames a dial which should satisfy the cravings of the most hopeless addicts of blue dialed watches! Displaying a radial sunburst pattern, this dial will be an absolute stunner in the sun, as well as offering a lot of polychromatic depth in indoor settings. This handsome effect is contrasted well by clear and functional luminous Arabic numbers that forego any faux-aged sort of syndrome, as do the polished white gold hands. This is a spectacular canvas for the time display, yet immediately legible at any time, and beautifully presented in the classic two-counter (or bicompax, if you prefer) manner. Blancpain’s decision to keep dial text minimal is to be applauded, too, as is the choice of a sapphire capped luminous bezel that is deliciously thin and unobtrusive, yet a delight to the eye in both color and luster, to say nothing of being a lovely treat when the lights run low. True to a pilot’s watch functionality, said bezel rotates in both directions, giving you yet another timer on top of your chronograph to play with.

(The pump pushers…the cambered box profile sapphire glass..the contrasting finishes. Subtle details abound!)

The movement checks a lot of important boxes for me. First, it is an exclusive mechanism, recognizing that the Manufacture Blancpain and Frederic Piguet have been intimately cojoined for a long time now. It is beautifully finished as all modern Blancpain calibers are, with particular mention to the absolutely sumptuous anglage on the edge of every bridge, as well as the rather technical looking yet still very cool grey finished 18K gold rotor. As on the bridges of movements seen in the Fifty Fathoms line, a lack of typical Geneva stripes in favor of a grained texture is clever, and eschews the typical expectations for a “high luxury” movement, while giving up nothing in terms of visual appeal–especially in a watch with such sporting aspirations. Vertically rather than horizontally clutched for efficiency, this chronograph nonetheless has a classic column wheel to satisfy purists who demand only best in construction and resultant crisp pusher feel, and the balance wheel is both freely sprung and mounted on a bridge; these features combined with the fine adjustment Blancpain performs–a full six positions rather than a typical luxury watch standard of five–and you have a very high performance, yet sturdy and resilient, complicated movement. Adding to this menu of excellence is an uber-rapid balance frequency of 36,000 oscillations per hour, meaning that not only is the chronograph central hand possessed of scarcely bested smoothness of sweep, it provides the capability of timing precision to the nearest 1/10th of a second. With all of these points considered together, its clear you have a truly wonderful automatic chronograph movement ticking inside, carrying the high-beat allure of famous competition such as Zenith and Grand Seiko, with the superior finishing of amongst the best of the manufacture level, to include lofty competition like Audemars Piguet and even Patek Philippe, at least as far as more typical volume watches (such as the annual calendar chronographs) from that esteemed brand go. Fear not those precision-destroying magnetic fields either, as the Air Command benefits from the same amagnetic silicon hairspring technology as other esteemed Swatch Group siblings such as Omega and Breguet. Yes, the F388B is a chronograph movement which is beautiful and luxurious, yet high on real world practicality and chronometric excellence. Maybe you can have it all, after all?

(You can obtain the Air Command Flyback in red gold too, which looks stunning paired with blue!)

Topped off by a supple blue calfskin strap that spices it up with bold white stitching, Blancpain’s Air Command Flyback Chronograph in titanium is a companion redolent of class and charm, while offering some serious muscle behind the sapphire caseback. This is a world class high luxury chronograph without any doubt, and at around $18,500 (US) dollars, the price asked seems more than reasonable when compared against some of the aforementioned big competition. Yes, the retail price is well above an El Primero from Zenith, mind you, but then again, so is the finishing, and that’s a big part of the pricing where high horology is concerned. (Being a Blancpain, it’s also likely that “the number” probably isn’t the number, especially if you ask the lovely folks at the boutique nicely.) And, should you want an even more opulent presentation for this watch’s radiant blue two-counter chronograph dial, Blancpain has you covered there: a red gold variant is available which is gorgeous indeed, as colored golds and blue go together about as well as any two things ever. With the exception of a red gold rotor to match the case, and a price tag some $10,000 greater, it’s the same great timepiece.

Audemars Piguet Royal Oak Offshore Diver 42 Limited Edition In White Gold: Stealth Wealth Luxury Diver Of Subtle Distinction

Posted on by Adam Keith

I’ll make no bones about it. We no longer reside in the relaxed atmosphere of 2006, where it seemed the louder one’s luxury watch was, the better. With the maelstrom of world events, economic turbulence, and steep price hikes in recent years, my own favorite luxury watches have ever increasingly become those with a more subdued presence. This is even more the case when we’re discussing an already world famous design or prestige brand flagship which is well known; depending on the fame of said watch design, you may not entirely escape the public’s attention (desired or otherwise), but certain variant or metal choices choices will keep your love of achingly dear horology a more private affair, if you happen to feel similarly to myself, at any rate. (Which I admit, I feel somewhat a minority in, being a horological child of more innocent times in the 90s and early 2000s, when being a watch hobbyist was more accessible and free of stigma.) With that in mind, I think it’s worth taking a look at one of the most recent addition to the prestigious and highly coveted Royal Oak Offshore range from Audemars Piguet. In this case, AP has chosen to expand their Offshore Diver line with a precious white gold model. In so doing, they’ve given this renowned 42mm high-luxury diver a very subtle yet distinguished character which stands out just enough from its more commonly seen steel variants. More specifically, it does so because of well-chosen stylistic choices here and there rather than overt flash and bling. In fact, looking at it, you’d scarcely distinguish it from a steel AP Offshore…unless, you’re a typically sharp-eyed WIS of course! And we all know how that goes, but I digress.

Even before the handsome black ceramic bezel–a key departure from the stainless steel models with their meticulously brushed stainless steel equivalents–I noticed the dial, and more specifically, the color of its luminous applications. An appealing ecru tone, the luminous application strikes a rather nice balance between warmth and the aggressive watch industry trend of fauxtina, which we can all admit has about an equal ratio of ardent fans to vociferous detractors. Regardless of one’s feelings about the trend in vintage-tinted lume, I think most can agree that the shade AP has chosen is very pleasing, reminding me of a well aged tritium dial minus any tropical sort of water damaged affliction seen on certain specimens of vintage sports watches. The Offshore Diver in white gold has the newer luminous hour indexes of differing lengths, giving it a more classic, Submarineresque sort of vibe, which after many decades is almost ingrained into the watch loving public’s subconsciousness as THE look for a dive watch. Legibility is another superb trait of this arrangement, as quarter hours are that much more distinguishable at a quick glance. One can still smile at the large pattern “Mega Tapisserie” waffle guilloche that is a hallmark of the Royal Oak design, knowing the heritage of the watch and its rich history within the pantheon of greats. If that isn’t enough, you have the polished white gold AP signature at 12 o’clock, proud, yet slightly aloof, without the additional Audemars Piguet spelled out in full below it; the hands and hour markers, distinctively shaped and faceted, are also in polished white gold and reflect light in a titillating fashion. Dial print is at a clear minimum, focusing the eyes on the purposeful indications of time, the elapsed time bezel, and the seconds hand sweeping clearly, the latter thing an assurance that your upscale diver’s tool is fully functional to see you through to another dive…or out of a soul-crushing meeting. And speaking of the latter, if you want to dress your diver up, a quick change strap system at the lugs enable you to quickly swap the rubber strap to a supplied alternative in calf leather, or any other appropriate AP or aftermarket alternative in your exotic material of choice.

While the 18K white gold case might be barely indistinguishable from stainless steel alternatives used in other AP Offshore Diver model references, the use of ceramic for the octagonal bezel, screw-locked winding crown, and the secondary bezel adjustment crown give a barely noticeable yet decidedly clear upsurge of luxury presence. Impeccably manufactured from the nearly scratch proof material, these elements display the same crisp angles and beautiful polished facets as the case flanks and lugs, and keep the feeling of the details high tech as well as artisanal. While there are few precious metal dive watches that might tempt you to challenge the depths beyond your desk, this one has enough subtlety and purposefulness to push that envelope and tempt a few brave souls who long for the days when an expensive tool watch was, well, still a tool. Should you dare to so do, know that Audemars Piguet has verified the pressure-proof capability to a very worthy 300 meters, far more than sufficient for scuba diving necessity, and well above the limits of the average Homo sapiens.

The in-house AP 4308 movement, familiar from its stainless steel Offshore Diver brethren, continues Audemars Piguet’s family of updated in-house calibers. It is both refined, attractively appointed in the extreme, and at 5.4mm thick, surely more than reasonably robust for a haute horlogerie engine. Equipped with a freely-sprung Gyromax balance wheel pulsing 28,800 beats hourly on a fully supported balance bridge, the 4308 offers up 60 hours of power reserve–not the longest in the field of worthy competitors, but certainly more than enough for most reasonable use, especially when considering the attractive sight it offers through the sapphire back. Those niceties include lusciously broad Geneva stripes, bridges with scintillating polished angles, and a 22K gold mass elegantly and discreetly oxidized a dark color for a nice contrast with the rhodium-plated bridges, as well as a nod to the purposeful capabilities behind the luxury facade. It’s slightly surreal to acknowledge the passing of nineteen years since the debut of the caliber’s forefather, the 3120, but the aesthetic and functional heritage of that pioneering automatic for AP is clear, and it’s great to see it evolving into existing and new model families from the esteemed Vallee de Joux manufacture. This movement is certainly not the most exotic of Audemars Piguet calibers, nor the most extensively hand finished, but it represents AP’s commitment to functional yet luxurious and exclusive mechanisms for their most popular model lines. It’s a shame that just 300 examples of this specific Offshore Diver will be made, but I suppose “all good things must come to an end”, as the saying goes.