Happy Halloween to everyone, and welcome to another Friday. I know there’s big, important events going on all over the world—protests in France, elections in Serbia, Brazil, and Israel (and, next week, the US)—but I’m writing this before the outcome of the World Series has been decided, and as a hardcore midwesterner, that’s really all I seem capable of focusing on. I hope whatever’s snagged your attention is equally riveting.
Scorekeeping last week’s picks, the Ulysse Nardin passed at auction and is now available direct from the auction house for €12,000. The Certina DS-3 and the Svend Andersen World Time both sell tomorrow, and the Eterna Majtek remains available, with a slight drop in the price.
Strays
Photo courtesy of Invaluable.
If that LIP Mach 2000 caught your eye a few weeks back but you’d like a non-chrono version, here’s a gray time-only one. Here’s a Zodiac 2547N—the ‘poor man’s Heuer Carrera’—and if you’d prefer more funk, here’s an exotic Sea Wolf Zodiac 722-946 on its original bracelet. Hess Fine Art not only has a fresh-to-market Paul Newman 6239 in its upcoming auction, but also this extremely uncommon Abercrombie and Fitch Rolex Oyster from 1927/28, and if that very old Rolex isn’t quite for you, there’s always this Rolco (Rolex Company) Oyster instead. This impeccable Movado will be an absolute steal if it stays within its estimate, and from the same auction, this Mathey Tissot triple calendar moonphase in 14k could be a great get, as could this Audemars Piguet in white gold.
I highlighted the Svend Andersen World Time last week, but Meeting Art is apparently hosting an ongoing auction series, and several watches live up to the auction’s title, “Masterpieces Through The Ages.” Consider not only this Audemars Piguet world time (which you may recognize from books, or because Peter Speake posted something beautifully similar earlier this week), but also this first-generation Patek Philippe 2526 with a Gübelin-signed dial and solid gold bracelet, each of which seem equally suited for museums as wrists. Finally, for those who’ve been waiting for one of these to pop up, here’s a great Tudor Endgame Sub with box and papers.
Pinko Vincent Calabrese Baladin
Photo courtesy of Avocado Vintage Watches.
You likely read Mr Wang’s great coverage of the most recent M.A.D.Edition, the M.A.D.3, two months back when it was announced. As TanTan wrote then, “To say that the M.A.D.3 bears a strong resemblance to the original Calabrese creation is an understatement,” and the article includes a picture of the original that the M.A.D.3 was based on: the Baladin by Vincent Calabrese. While I’m sure the folks behind the M.A.D.3 had plenty of good reasons to base their design on the Baladin, one compelling reason is that they’re not that common.
Photo courtesy of Avocado Vintage Watches.
Which is too bad, given how great the design is. Fortunately, Avocado Vintage Watches has a black dial variant available. The watch is a wandering-hour watch in jump-hour clothes, with the hour hand rotating around the dial before shifting for each new hour when it reaches 12. It’s a fun, almost whimsical way to display the time and, as the listing notes, every three hours a letter replaces the numeral. I couldn’t make heads or tails of why, so I asked, and they explained that the letters correspond to hours in French: T for trois, S for six, N for neuf, M for midi/minuit. If you’re still wondering why bother with the letters, Alessandro (from Avocado Vintage Watches) explained it clearly:
“The reasoning is both practical and aesthetic. Because the Baladin features a rotating hour aperture, conventional numerals such as 6 and 9 can easily be confused when viewed upside down. Replacing them with letters solves this problem while giving the display its rather playful and unconventional character.”
Photo courtesy of Avocado Vintage Watches.
Calabrese’s design for this method of displaying the time was used in a variety of watches, none of which were made in huge numbers. There were Calabrese-badged versions, the latest of which was released in 2004 and featured a date, but the design itself debuted in 1988. The watch under consideration today was released by Pinko, the Italian fashion brand, around 1990, and looks to be in very good shape. The 39mm case is made of silver and plated with yellow gold, but of course if this watch quickens your pulse it’s likely not because of the case and is instead due to the glossy black dial and the elegant, aged gold printing.
Available for €4,900 from Avocado Vintage Watches, this thing is a total delight even for those of us who can’t speak French.
Royce Automatic Professional Marine
Photo courtesy of Drouot.
Chrome-plated divers make zero sense, and I’ve spent more time than I’m comfortable admitting deliberating why anyone would’ve made them, ever. Cost, presumably, but maybe some materials scientist would like to expound on the virtues of nickel alloys vs. stainless steel and how each handles 10 ATM. Regardless, it seems illogical to make (or buy) a watch that, given the conditions it’s expected to face, will lose its finish. It’d be like buying a wax-coated hat for the beach.
Photo courtesy of Drouot.
The problem with chrome-plated dive watches is how alluring a small number of them are. For instance, this Royce Automatic Professional Marine. So what is this 46mm-wide, 62mm lug-to-lug chrome-plated beast? To start, it has a slight military history: it was apparently designed for use by French Navy divers in the 1970s, though it’s hard to find conclusive evidence for that claim. One can for sure say that this was made for serious diving. However, while its depth rating isn’t listed on the watch (it was supposedly good to 20ATM), the crown’s at 12, and the lugs are hinged, in theory, to allow the thing to be better strapped outside whatever suit the diver’s wearing.
Past that, things get a little wobbly. This isn’t all that common a watch to begin with, plus not only did it come with two different dials (black with orange chapter ring, or the inverse) and two different hand sets (the ones seen here and a set with a lollipop hour hand), but the watch has a twin in this LeJour. And again, it is 46mm crown-at-12 watch, i.e. not something that would’ve instinctively attracted a casual watch-shopper when it was released in the early 70s.
Photo courtesy of Drouot.
This particular example looks great, with no plating loss that I can see, and a clean dial and handset. The mineral crystal looks in fine shape as well, ditto the unidirectional bezel, and the caseback still shows the Royce insignia fairly well. With an estimate of €800-12,000, this watch seems like wild fun, and it auctions next Saturday, the 7th of November.
Universal Genève Jump Hour Regulator Reference 225.125
Photo courtesy of Huntington Company.
Huntington Company has become an infuriating visit of late because of their knack for presenting watches I didn’t know anything about and subsequently instilling an almost desperate desire for said till-then-unknown watches. Specifically, they’ve offered a few examples of a Universal Genève jump-hour regulator in a rectangular case that looked perfect and mysterious. Each of the three earlier examples sold before I had the chance to afford them, but fortunately for all of us, they now have another.
This watch is the first two-tone example Huntington has offered, and I’m frustrated to report that, like its stainless steel and 18k gold brethren, this model apparently looks good in any configuration. The watch’s design—sans sharp edges or bevels with different finishes—and its 1990s origin explain why it looks generally to be in good shape, with the only real visible scuffs on the sides. This particular example has a flawless dial and handset, and I remain, months after first seeing this model, unable to talk about it without sounding slightly unhinged, like that one friend who won’t shut up about the band he’s obsessed with but that nobody else likes.
Photo courtesy of Huntington Company.
Photo courtesy of Huntington Company.
But, like, for instance, each of the circular sections of dial are snailed with concentric ridges. Not only that, each of the circular sections is outlined in gold. Throw in the tracks around each—those boxes denoting minutes and seconds! the serif font!—and the austere negative space around the rest of the dial, plus the smartly boring hands (there’s too much else going on with the dial; you couldn’t also use some look-at-me handset), and it’s hard to believe this watch wasn’t made decades ago. It’s too good. And yet, of course, in a way, the watch was made decades ago. You’ve probably already picked it up, but the Universal Genève’s a dead ringer for the Rolex Prince jump hour.
Photo courtesy of Huntington Company.
Price is where this watch gets strangest. Huntington is offering this beauty for $8,900, which is way more affordable than any jump-hour Rolex Prince you’re likely to find. That said, the price seems high, since you could find a stainless steel and black example a few years ago for less than half. However, I can’t find any other examples of this model currently, so if you want one, this is your option. Huntington, if you’re reading this, please stop finding such seductive watches.
BWC Chronograph
Photo courtesy of Drouot.
Let’s finish with an oddball which emphatically lacks the subtle, suave charm of most of the other watches featured this week. While I won’t argue BWC (Buttes Watch Company) is an overlooked horological powerhouse, they made some very appealing watches, and their chronograph I’d argue deserves more attention is the one powered by the Lemania 1340, like this one, which is being auctioned in Italy in a week.
I’m not alone in appreciating central-minute counter chronographs, and while the Lemania 5100 (a favorite of Chuck Maddox himself) is the standard-bearer, its predecessor was the 1340. Which you prefer is a matter of taste—the 5100 has a 24-hour scale at 12. The 1340 doesn’t, but beyond that they share much in common, complication-wise.
Photo courtesy of Drouot.
What I find most charming about this specific Lemania 1340-powered chronograph are the hands and dial. Look at the central hand stack. The hour and minute hands are polished steel, with a thin white chrono seconds hand at the top of the stack, and lower down, the central minute counter terminates in an open circle and a pointer. You can see in the first picture that that open circle’s around the numeral 60 on the dial. I know it’s silly and minor, but there’s something so caring and thoughtful about a minute-counter track printed on the dial. A friend has one of these, and I wear it every chance I get, almost exclusively for the kick of seeing the minute counter track on the dial.
Photo courtesy of Drouot.
Photo courtesy of Drouot.
Past that incredibly esoteric detail, the watch is just gorgeous, if you like quirky. Date at three, running seconds at 9, hour counter at 6, the whole thing in such a 1970s package you can nearly hear synthetic bellbottoms swishing by. Past the minute-counter track, the rest of the watch is fine—seemingly unpolished steel case, generic bracelet, full lume on the hands and dial plots, and, according to the listing, a movement that runs well. It’s got a €550-11,000 estimate, and sells next Saturday, the 7th of November.
