White suits, blue water and plenty of neon pink, what’s not to love about Miami Vice? For once that rose-tinted obsession with nostalgia’s actually pretty damn fun. Who’d opt for an ode to the 1950s when you can have the cocaine-drenched ‘80s, intimidating moustaches and a white Ferrari Testarossa? HTD have taken that theme and gone with it, at least in the dial colour, with the HTD Hesagraph Miami Vice.

The focal point of the new watch is, of course, that dial. It’s pink. Very, very pink. There have been a fair few pink watches over the past couple of years and I’ve been here for them all. This though is next level. HTD have used what they call ‘triple colour laying technology’ to give it its depth and brightness. What precisely that technology is it’s hard to say, but one can assume it’s three layers of colour on top of one another. Either way, it’s one of the loveliest shades of disco pink I’ve worn, right on the border between femininely pastel and a punkier, electric colour.

While you might instantly expect a sleek tricompax chronograph to also include a tachymeter, that’s not for HTD. Like previous versions of the Hesagraph the bezel is instead plain steel. It works as well here as it does with the more stripped-back, utilitarian tool watches in their line- up, but for a different reason. Not only does it leave the pink to do its job, but the polished metal has a glitzy, reflective look that ties into the whole Miami Vice of it.

For a brand labelling themselves as the Horological Tools Department however, there are a couple of oversights that I’m surprised made it to production. The first is readability. The steel indexes are nice and clear, largely because they’re three-dimensional. The white numerals and minute tracks though are hard to read in direct light and downright unreadable in anything less. They just blend into the pink enough to strain your eyes. You can still tell where the hands are pointing, but it feels like an oversight.

It’s a shame as I’d have loved to see a version of this with some more neon brightness, perhaps green or blue to contrast with the pink and really hammer home that ‘80s disco feel. It’s not as if there’s no colour palette to draw from there. It might have made it a bit more divisive than solid pink, but with only 150 of these available, I’m sure it would have made at least 150 people very happy.

Then there are the lugs. The case is 39mm in diameter, but the Hesagraph Miami Vice is proof positive that you should always look at lug size, which here is 48mm. That’s a substantial increase on the wrist, but that’d be fine if they were curved. Instead, they’re straight, meaning that on my wrist there’s a distinct ‘box’ shape where other watches would follow my wrist. It’s not deal-breaking by any stretch, it’s still comfortable, it just doesn’t look as slick as it could.

That’s where the gripes end, however. Looks-wise it’s a beauty and not just for the pink. The combination of playful colour and tool watch shape – including the impeccably machined bracelet – add up to the kind of go-anywhere, do-anything watch that’s in vogue at the moment. Even the sapphire crystal is lovely, with its U-box curve, sitting right off the bezel. It’s practical and fun in equal measure.

It feels mechanically great too, with exceptionally satisfying pump chronograph pushers thanks to the SW510 M Elaborè inside. It’s a classic manual-wind chronograph perfect for smaller-sized cases. You’ll more normally see the SW510 in bi-compax numbers, but it works just as well here, especially with its 58-hour power reserve. As this is the Elaborè version, we can assume that the finishing is exceptional for a third-party movement, but as it’s a solid caseback and I don’t regularly pop them off if I can help it, I can’t say for sure.

So, what’s the bottom line with this disco-drenched chrono? I’ve liked previous versions of the Hesagraph and I like this one about as much. It’s less practical than variations such as the Pure Speed and Canoli which draw their vintage racing colourways from, well, vintage racing. As a flash of statement colour though, it’s hard to beat. At €2,500 (approx. £2,067), it’s exactly the same price as previous Hesagraphs too and it’s good to see HTD maintaining that price point – although right now you can get it for 10% off, which is always pleasant.

It’s not cheap by any stretch of the imagination, but for a solid chronograph with this much personality, it’s about right. I’d like to see something between this and HTD’s uber-accessible Tennis series (which will set you back just €690), but if you’re looking to channel your inner Don Johnson, this is for you.

More details at HTD.

At this point, I likely don’t need to tell you about Toledano & Chan. Your friend that’s really into architecture has already complained about how the brutalist watches got snapped up way too quickly. However, Phillip Toledano, better known on Instagram as @misterenthusiast, has been a tour de force of the collecting and creative worlds long before he committed his name to a dial. A conceptual artist, designer and multi-hyphenate renaissance man, we sat down to talk about his latest projects, watch collecting and his ongoing obsession with history.

What was the last watch you bought?

Well, I guess there’s one arriving tomorrow, but probably the one worth mentioning more is a Daniel Roth Extra Plat oh, early 1990s. I’m really into early Daniel Roth. I just think the designs are really beautiful. I know that people are kind of obsessed by Breguet, but for me this is kind of in that style, yet more interesting because of the genius of the dial. It also has this unique shape.

Whenever you create something, it’s an opportunity to say something new and with that case design, that’s exactly what Roth did. I can’t help but love that combination of traditional, amazing Breguet style surrounded by the unexpected. I also don’t believe Louis Vuitton will do anything quite this interesting with the brand, so now seemed like a good time to get one for myself.

Daniel Roth Extra Plat, image credit: Loupe This

Do you collect anything outside of watches?

Well, I collected cars for a long time, but these days I feel like I’d prefer to sell the cars I own and put all that money into totally stupid watches. The reason’s simple: I’m just lazy. It used to be tough to get up crazy early and go to where I kept my cars in New Jersey, which is like a 20 minute drive away from where I live. I’d have to get up at six to go over to the garage, then go drive to meet people. Now I’m just such a loafer, entering the geezer era, you know. I just can’t be bothered. At least I can keep my watches nice and close – and get them stolen.

Fortunately, most of the watches I collect aren’t on anyone’s list of shit to steal. It’s just weird stuff that, you know, is odd. It’s not Rolex or Patek. That’s a good reason to collect obscure stuff. Although I do find that most of the stuff collectors say is obscure or undervalued just equates to ‘nobody gives a shit about this watch that I happen to like!’ But that’s the glorious thing about watches; there are endless rabbit holes to fall down. With cars, there are far fewer – and they’re a lot more expensive!

Toledano & Chan B1 Lapis Lazuli

What other than a watch is at the top of your wishlist?

Regular bowel movements? Like I said, geezer era. The closest I have is a matcha latte in the morning; it really pulls the pin on that grenade.

What is a recent find or discovery?

Other than an unusual mole? Well, I just fell in love with jumpsuits. I recently got one off eBay, but now I’m always looking for jumpsuits. For me, a jumpsuit is the ultimate in min-max. I feel like guys are all about putting in the least effort for the maximum amount of style. All the watch sausage parties I go to, there’s always a guy with his wife where she’s dressed up to the nines and he’ll be in a polo shirt with beige trousers. A jumpsuit though is the ultimate style-to-effort ratio.

What inspires you?

That’s the world’s worst question because, as an artist everything inspires me! Which incidentally is the world’s worst answer. But more specifically, surprise inspires me, and envy inspires me. Especially creatively, I feel like there’s nothing better and worse simultaneously than seeing something that you wish you’d thought of, and then being upset you didn’t think of it. It motivates you to think of more things, to try and one-up the competition. And it is a competition.

What’s a book, podcast or album that’s changed the way you think?

Oh god, well I’ve been reading these books about Henry VIII and it changed the way I thought about him. I had this weird notion of Henry, that he was sort of this cool king, even though I know he killed two of his wives and sort of took on the Pope, you know. The more I read though the more I realised he was a psychopath, basically. He was off his rocker, mental, not a cool person at all.

The reason being he fell off his horse and was unconscious for like, six hours. That kind of concussion can change your personality entirely, make you crazier. It made me draw all these parallels to Donald Trump. I wonder if he had a jousting accident. Or more likely beaned in the head by ricocheting golf balls more than once.

Maurizio Catalan

Who is a celebrity or person of note that you admire?

Maurizio Cattelan. He’s an artist that got famous creating this amazingly lifelike replica of Pope John Paul II being hit by a meteorite. He’s like the most incredible prankster in the art world. He’s a genius. At an art fair a few years ago, he taped a banana to the wall and put it up for sale. He just likes to fuck with people.

It’s not just a silly prank though; he’s audacious in a very clever way. People think a middle finger is audacity, but it’s not. Audacity requires a level of understanding and genius to do right. To genuinely subvert expectations, you need to know what you’re doing and it’s a very tricky, very binary proposition because it’s either right on or just stupid.

Citroen DS Convertible, image credit: Iconic Auctioneers

What’s your ideal long weekend?

Well. Honestly, I feel like at this point I’ve been an artist for so long that there’s not much difference between week and weekend. But if I were to have a few days away, I know where I’d go. I’ve lived in America so long that I really miss Europe. In case you’ve not noticed, I’m a history nerd, so I’d love to just go hang around some medieval village in Europe, going to the café and just being there.

It’s super boring shit actually, but I’d just be pottering round this ancient place with like 100 inhabitants. Then I’d take a drive – because I’d obviously have a Citroen DS Convertible at my disposal – and go find a vintage Rolex at a flea market for 10 bucks. Then I’d celebrate with a brisk matcha latte and have an immediate… never mind.

What would we always find in your fridge?

You know what? A Granny Smith apple. I’m a massive Granny Smith fiend. I can’t get enough of them.

What is a rule or mantra you live by?

I guess it would be creative brutality. I’m a conceptual artist, but it applies to everything, even having a watch brand. The thing is, people think of ideas as precious but they’re not. I find that often people hold onto their ideas, but the thing about ideas is that you have to be comfortable slaughtering them, so that you can get to the next one, which is always better.

I was trained in ideas in advertising, and advertising is a very brutal environment for ideas because you have to have a lot of them and a lot of them get crushed and bludgeoned immediately. So, you get used to powering and churning through many, many, many ideas until you get to one that works. When you can learn that, teach yourself to not hold onto the things that are bad, you can recognise when things could be better. And things can always be better.

What does the year ahead look like for you?

Well, I’m going to be relaunching Viva Bastarda, which is a clothing line I started. More Toledano & Chan watches of course – we recently built an insane meteorite piece for Phillips’ charity auction. I also have a new book coming out on the art side. I’ve actually been working with AI recently, as I’ve become deeply interested in the way AI has kind of redefined our relationship to the image. Because of AI, everything is true and nothing is true. So, my new book is around the idea of invented history, historical surrealism. It’s called We Are a War and it’s a reimagined lost role of film from the D-Day landing parties, specifically Robert Crapper who’s a very famous photographer.

It’s really interesting because we’re at a point in history where we’re soon not going to know what’s real and what’s not. How do we know what’s true? And particularly with the American elections coming up, that’s going to be really significant. Photography as truth has existed for maybe 150 years, which is nothing in the context of human history. We’ve had this very, very, very brief experience of image as truth. And now we might not have it any more. I’m not really worried, but I am curious about how it’s going to work moving forwards.

By the time they have over 30 horological patents under their belt, you would assume that a watchmaker would be spoken of in the same breath as the modern independent greats, like F. P. Journe or Philippe Dufour. And yet despite working for Patek Philippe, Ulysse Nardin, and Girard-Perregaux over the years, you may well not have heard of Stéphane von Gunten.

Last year, Stéphane launched Haute-Rive, a shiny new independent watchmaker and the first with the master horologist and inventor at the helm. As alluded to, the fifth-generation watchmaker had been working quietly behind the scenes for decades, but it took the impetus of Covid for him to make the big leap. But before we get into his modern watches, it’s worth looking at his horological past – and one watch, in particular.

Irénée Aubry’s Montre du Pape (Pope’s Watch)

It’s pretty common for the Pope to receive gifts. There’s a reason the last Pope had a Lamborghini and it’s not because he’s an adrenaline-fuelled hype beast. In 1888, to mark the jubilee of Pope Leo XIII, that gift came in the form of a gorgeous gold pocket watch. Nothing too unusual there – except that the power reserve was a staggering 40 days. That’s well over a month of power on a single wind. The maker of that watch was Stéphane’s ancestor, Irénée Aubry.

Irénée Aubry’s Hebdomas 8 day Pocket Watch

Power reserve is actually something that Stéphane has pushed throughout his career, no matter what brand he’s working for at the time. No multi-axis tourbillons, no complex chiming arrays, just that one, incredibly useful aspect of a timepiece’s spec sheet. And it’s that aspect that Haute-Rive is built around. The brand’s debut watch says it all, the phenomenal Honoris I.

On the surface, the Honoris I is an aesthetically elegant timepiece in the vein of other independent watchmakers. It comes with a grand feu enamel dial in a gold case, sized at a large-but-wearable 42.5mm. And yet there’s more going on than a glance can take in. For one, while the six o’clock tourbillon, the central gear bridge and the so-called ‘wheel of time’ at 12 o’clock are all visible, they’re not visibly connected. This means that while the elements are on top, the real work is happening underneath that enamel.

It’s a similar concept to something like MB&F’s Legacy Machines, just a bit more subtle. The thing is, while that over-and-under of components defines the look of the watch, it’s what you can’t see that defines what it actually is. You see, while his ancestor may have managed a watch with a 40-day power reserve,  Stéphane has achieved 41, around 1,000 hours. And in a single-barrelled wristwatch at that.

To get there, the mainspring is 3m long. That’s a single, 3-metre-long piece of metal that’s been curled into a spring that can fit in one small section of a none-too-large watch. While it sounds simple, there’s a reason it’s not been done before. So how do you fit that kind of thing in a wristwatch? By turning the mainplate into the barrel. Obviously.

As if upsetting the entire architecture of a watch wasn’t enough, anything with a power reserve this long likely needs a winding system more substantial than a standard crown. For one, that’s a lot of twisting a tiny component; for another, it would put a lot of force on the crown’s stem as you approach the upper power limit. So, Stéphane took a different approach and commandeered the bezel.

As you’ve likely noticed, the bezel is grooved with grips, allowing you to easily turn it counter clockwise to wind the mainspring. It’s still a fair amount of winding of course, you’re funnelling a lot of energy in, but it’s far superior to the crown, and you can keep an eye on how much you’ve wound it on the back of the watch. And hey, you only need to do it once a month – with a 10-day safety buffer.

For many watchmakers, power reserve is a nice thing to have; a selling point but not exactly a headline-grabbing one. A few hours here or there is more an afterthought than a core idea. Stéphane on the other had has used Haute-Rive to completely change the architecture of a traditional timepiece, specifically to put power reserve at the metaphorical and literal heart of the watch.

Haute-Rive is of course a brand that won’t have many collections in the future and won’t produce hundreds of watches. But if the Honoris I is anything to go by, he might just be one of the most low-key exciting independents around – and if you didn’t know about him before, you do now. You’re welcome.

More details at Haute-Rive.

Back in 2017, Louis Vuitton launched their Tambour Moon Flying Tourbillon, a skeletonised masterpiece of Poincon de Geneve finishing and lavish house details. A couple of years later, they introduced the Tambour Spin Time Air, a strange amalgamation of spinning cubic indexes and sapphire crystal. Even early last year, they released a pair of flying tourbillons in green and yellow sapphire cases, again skeletonised, again completely off the horological deep end.

Louis Vuitton LV1 Worldtimer (1988)

So, in that context, why was Louis Vuitton’s most restrained timepiece to date their most important? I’m leading with these insane bits of watch, but that wasn’t Louis Vuitton’s first foray into watchmaking. That came back in the 1980s with the LV1. In keeping with the brand’s jetsetter reputation – can you be a proper jet-setter without some Louis Vuitton luggage? – they opted for a slick worldtimer. It’s a bit of a rarity these days and they don’t go for a huge amount, but compared to the later pieces, it was a class act.

Louis Vuitton Tambour Twenty based on the original Tambour which was released in 2002 (2022)

The Tambours of old on the other hand were what I’d consider novelties. Not in the ‘new this year’ sort of way, but in the way that meant they weren’t what you’d consider a collection of watches in the traditional sense. Sure, they all shared the drum-shaped case from which they took their name, but they were disparate, eclectic and never really had an identity.

They were branded of course, with plenty of LV paraphernalia across the board, but if anything, that shot the watches in the proverbial foot more than helped. It made Louis Vuitton seem like a fashion house throwing the kitchen sink on your wrist in the hopes it would stick and, if they wanted to be regarded in the same breath as Hermes and Chanel are these days, something needed to change.

Louis Vuitton Tambour Sketch

That change came with Jean Arnault. If you know the name, it’ll most likely be for two reasons: he’s the son of LVMH CEO Bernard Arnault and brother of Frédéric Arnault, who until relatively recently was CEO of TAG Heuer. Needless to say, they’re a family that knows watches, and Jean himself is an avid aficionado of haute horology. And so it was his self- imposed mandate as director of watches at LVMH to make sure the LV in that formula could live up to the watchmaking task.

Of course, when it came to watchmaking as a craft, he had a lot to work with. Louis Vuitton acquired Fabrique du Temps way back in 2011 and over the last decade-and-change has turned it into a fully integrated development house. Pretty much anything a watchmaker should be able to do, they can do – and then some. So, all Arnault really needed to do was channel that talent into something approaching a serious collection – the 2023 Tambour.

Louis Vuitton Tambour Automatic 40mm Platinum, £18,100

Looking at the launch line-up of the revamped, 2023 Tambour, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Arnault is particularly taken by independent watchmaking. The less-is-more approach, the obsession with finishing, the classical nuances across the board make the new Tambour feel like a watch designed for collectors. Gone are the skeletonised dials and bright colours. Gone is the old LV logo splashed across everything. Instead, everything is clean, crisp and perfectly balanced in that drum-round case.

They are, of course, luxury sports watches, which even last year was a saturated market. But while it’s impossible to escape the spectre of Gerald Genta about these things, I’d argue that there was no other way to approach the Tambour. It’s not like the original design actually has lugs; an integrated bracelet is the only thing to do and by maintaining those more classical sensibilities instead of tired, flat planes and industrial finishing, it skirts the pitfall of Royal Oak and Nautilus association.

Louis Vuitton Tambour Automatic 40mm Caseback

All the same, it was a very safe collection. It’s priced high of course. It was never going to be cheap, with Louis Vuitton leveraging the downright stunning finishing of La Fabrique du Temps; seriously, look at that movement and tell me it’s not an absolute beauty. But after years of misfires, safety was what the brand needed. But something else was needed. After all, one good collection doesn’t make a watch brand.

Louis Vuitton Escale Platinum, £34,000

That next step came in the form of the Escale, which took a much more classical approach to a time-only watch. Gone was the drum-shaped Tambour case in favour of something much more traditional. Traditional as in, it actually had lugs. Those lugs are big and bolted to the side of the case, but they’re there and that means classical leather straps. It’s also a central seconds as opposed to the new Tambour’s small seconds, with bead minute markers that feel like they’d be at home on a Vacheron Constantin Patrimony. There are still some aesthetic swings, like the big hour markers at 12, three, six and nine o’clock, and the faceted, grippy crown, but otherwise it’s as straight-forward a dress watch as Louis Vuitton can make.

Between the Tambour and the Escale, Louis Vuitton’s offering a pair of handsome core collections and while I personally think the new Tambour nailed the aesthetic slightly more than the Escale, the latter is by no means a misfire. Far from it. The new colours are more than welcome and the meteorite edition is excellent. And if that were all Louis Vuitton were doing, it would warrant them being taken seriously. But it’s not.

Louis Vuitton Escale, £25,100

I mentioned previously Jean Arnault’s love of independent watchmaking. Well, that’s manifested in two ways outside of Louis Vuitton’s own watches, firstly in Daniel Roth. Roth is a name that makes serious collector’s fawn, a savant of independent watch design whose name has been passed from one watch group to another before landing at Louis Vuitton. Last year, they launched the first new Daniel Roth watch, using the brand’s signature case shape and three-scale timekeeping at six o’clock. It was incredibly faithful and the souscription limited edition pieces in yellow gold sold out fast.

It’s not hard to see why; the attention to detail was magnificent and Le Fabrique du Temps did an enviable job of imitating the master watchmaker to a tee. If you ever get a chance to see a Daniel Roth in the metal, do it – which has become a bit more likely this year with a non-limited (though still limited annual production) rose gold edition. It’s a grail watch in the truest sense and shows not only that the minds behind Louis Vuitton understand independent watchmaking, but that they have the horological chops to make it happen.

Daniel Roth Tourbilon Rose Gold

The Daniel Roth launch wasn’t quiet, but what was a lot more under the radar was Louis Vuitton’s Independent Watchmaking Prize. That’s right, alongside re-introducing a legendary name and completely revamping their own watch offering, Louis Vuitton has also been highlighting the good and great of indie watchmakers, the Mercury Music prize of horology.

It’s a bold move, to be honest. This isn’t like they’re trying to court these watchmakers; it’s acknowledging that they’re fantastic at what they do. Better than Louis Vuitton, in all honesty, and better than Daniel Roth in some cases. There’s no cynical marketing reason why one of the biggest luxury companies in the world would do something like this – except of course, for Arnault’s personal love of the craft.

Louis Vuitton Tambour Automatic 40mm Rose Gold, £51,500

That all brings me back to the Tambour and Escale. Sure, it’s hard to think of Louis Vuitton in the same thought as independent watchmaking. This isn’t F. P. Journe or Philippe Dufour. This is a luxury fashion company that loves trunks and travel. But the approach to both new collections has been that of an aficionado more than a brand, the kind of watches a collector of haute horology, not an LV monogram addict, would want from their watches. They could have just stamped said monogram on a third-party watch. That likely would have worked well enough in the vein of Armani watches. If you build it they will come. But ‘they’ aren’t Jean Arnault and while this may be one of the priciest passion projects in history, a project of passion it is.

More details at Louis Vuitton.

This week we hosted our second exclusive membership event and, even if I say so myself, it was a knock-out. Held at Grand Seiko’s phenomenal Bond Street boutique, it was a night of Japanese watches and Japanese whisky.

It was many readers’ first opportunity to try on the stunning European Exclusive editions, with their stunningly detailed dials inspired by Japanese ponds. Trust me, you cannot even begin to understand the intricacies and delicacies of these watches without seeing them in the metal and examining the way light plays across the facets of their dials. And thanks to the intimate setting of the Grand Seiko boutique everyone had a chance to admire them up close, along with a raft of other incredible timepieces.

In addition to the fabulous watches of Grand Seiko, the House of Suntory made an appearance to host a tasting of their three core expressions: Hibiki, Yamazaki and Hakushu. I’m sure some of you that didn’t make it are as envious of that as the watches. Being guided through the rich flavour profiles of exclusive bottles such as the 100th anniversary Yamazaki Mizunara 18 Years Old with its subtle spices and underlying woody tones was sublime.

It wasn’t all trying on and tasting however. We also chatted to ambassadors from both brands about the nuances of Japanese craftmanship, the difference with how we do things in Europe and the importance of nature to both brands. For example, with the European Exclusive watches, which were the highlight of the evening, the way the subtle engraving reflects the waves as wind ripples across the surface of the water.

Thank you to everyone that made it and for those of you that didn’t, we hope to see you at the next one! As a reminder, invitation to Oracle Time Membership events is only available to members.

Sign up to our membership and get access to event invites like this in the future aswell as a host of other benefits.

When it was launched back at Watches & Wonders 2024, the Zenith Defy Extreme Diver not only hammered home Zenith’s long-overlooked diving heritage, but proved itself to be one of the most genuinely interesting dive watches of the year. Sure, the ‘Plongeur’ revival grabbed headlines, but its modernised version was the real success. So, it’s no surprise that less than a year later, Zenith is extending the Defy Extreme Diver with a handsome, silver-white dial.

The Defy Extreme Diver is extreme by name, extreme by nature. On the surface is has all those dramatic angles and multi-faceted design touches that have made the collection what it is, backed-up by serious diving specs. It’s big, at 42.5mm of lightweight titanium, and solid, able to keep time 600 metres underwater. Paired with a unidirectional rotating bezel in hardwearing ceramic and you have an eye-catching watch that ticks all those professional necessities.

Granted the design is, as the name suggests, a touch extreme in its many, many facets. But honestly, the more brands out there doing their own things, the better. If you prefer your divers a little more retrained, there are plenty of other options elsewhere. Too many, some might say. None of that is new of course, I’m just describing Zenith’s Defy Extreme Diver from earlier in the year. So what here is new? Nothing more than the dial. Given just how dramatic a personality shift the new dial gives it though, it’s a change worth talking about.

The dial in question is a bright, silvery white engraved with the same four-pointed star emblem that defines the perennially cool Defy Skyline. It’s sunburst engraving emanates from the Zenith logo and, in a touch that every watchmaker should follow suit on, the date at 3 o’clock is perfectly colour matched to the dial. It’s eye-catching in the best possible way.

That said, a diver needs to be seen underwater as well as above. To that end, there’s plenty of Super-LumiNova across the dial, in three different colours no less. While it’s all the same in the light, in the dark you get blue, green and yellow split across the hours, minutes and seconds to easily distinguish one from the other.

Like the rest of the collection, the Zenith Defy Extreme Diver is powered by the El Primero calibre 3620-SC, a hyper-accurate high-frequency number that, despite the energy output, still has a 60-hour power reserve. That’s performance it should stick too even in harsh environments thanks to its paramagnetic components – read silicon.

Rounding things off, the Defy Extreme Diver comes on three different straps: the matching titanium bracelet, a chunky KFM rubber number with a Cordura-effect texture and, for the true professionals, an extra-long number meant to strap over a wetsuit. That last is also made from recycled fishing nets, which is thematically satisfying.

After most of a year with no more news from the collection, it’s good to see Zenith really hammering home their flagship diver. While I’d still like to see more colours of that Plongeur – imagine it in yellow or light blue, vintage Longines Comet sort of colours – the Defy Extreme Diver is a diver like few others. In a world of Submariner and Fifty Fathoms homages, that alone is enough to make it stand out. It’s a good thing that it has far, far more going for it besides.

More details at Zenith.

Independent watchmaking is still very much in its ascendency. I’m not about to say that the big marquee groups – LMVH, Richemont, and Swatch – aren’t still killing it with numbers and sheer visibility, but more and more individual horological maestros are making their presence felt. Kudoke is very aesthetic, in a very German way.

As with all independent brands, Kudoke has a face: that of Stefan Kudoke. And it’s a frustratingly youthful face at that. This is a man who has already achieved some impressive credentials in the watchmaking world, working for Breguet, Blancpain and Omega, and at just 22, earning a Master Craftsman Certificate. In Germany, that’s no small thing. He’s a stark counterpoint to that classic image of a little old man machining dials in the Alpine winter.

Kudoke 1

And yet, Kudoke is still very much along those lines, at least insofar as production goes. Stefan doesn’t have the fancy manufactures of Glashütte, nor does he simply buy in everything he needs ready to go. Instead, he does the watchmaking equivalent of working from home, working at the proverbial kitchen table in a pared-back workshop based in Weifa, a small town in east Germany. It’s a much humbler approach than he would have been used to at Omega.

Humble though might be the most apt word for Kudoke as a brand. Take one look at the Kudoke 1, their perennial flagship with its nine o’clock small seconds and beautifully machined… everything. There are distinct Saxon flavours going on and while the comparison to Lange might be a bit too obvious, it’s still apt. The Kudoke 1 embodies that distinctly German balance of elegance and understatement – albeit a bit more on the elegant side.

Kudoke 2

The main difference is that, while the quality is very much on par with the most prestigious German watchmaker, the prices are not. Just over £12,500 isn’t cheap by any stretch of the imagination, but when you get a solid gold case, a manufacture movement and painfully perfect finishing across the board, that number starts to feel like a serious value proposition.

Following the initial Kudoke 1, the brand only consolidated that bang for your buck with the day- night indicating Kudoke 2, the stunning triple retrograde Kudoke 3 and a wonderfully accessible Louis Erard Regulateur. They all share the same sensibilities, albeit with a bit more colour on that last, collaborative effort. But all of those models across the board actually comprise one half of what Kudoke can do, labelled Handwerk meaning, simply, handwork. The other side of the brand is very, very different: Kunstwerk.

Le Régulateur Louis Erard x Kudoke

Kunstwerk translates to work of art, so you might think you know what to expect here. Plenty of metier d’art techniques, perhaps some enamelling or even a cheeky bit of marquetry these days, all very low-key gorgeous and sehr Deutsche. What you probably weren’t expecting was a three-dimensional octopus breaking its way out of the dial like a Kraken rum advert.

Kudoke KudOktopus

The KudOktopus is just one design in a pantheon of gorgeous engravings, but its sculptural nature is very much the way Kudoke have embraced their artistic side. Showing hints of the manufacture movement underneath, it’s not just worryingly lifelike at the front, but those tentacles continue to grasp the movement on the caseback, too. While I never expected to utter the phrase ‘exceptionally rendered suckers’, I guess I have to, because they are weirdly stunning.

There’s normally a premium for this kind of attention to detail and beyond next-level finishing. And while the tourbillon-equipped editions are indeed pricey, the automatics come in at under £8,000. It’s not like these are mass-produced; they’re special rarities that have hours upon hours of labour lavished on them. Kudoke could ask for a chunk of change more and the KudOktopus would still feel undervalued.

Kudoke Real Skeleton

Like I said at the beginning, independent watchmaking is still very much on the rise. But it’s reassuring that, where the Journes and Dufours of the world still claim insane, headline-grabbing valuations, there are brands out there not just making great watches, but doing so at a fair price, not driven by hype. Between their classic Saxon looks on one side and their sculptural engravings on the other, Kudoke might just be Germany’s best kept watchmaking secret.

More details at Kudoke.

I probably don’t need to tell you who Andy Warhol is. The godfather of Pop Art and kingmaker of Cambell’s Soup is one of the most influential figures in any media. Vivid, colourful prints and a mass-produced approach to find art firmly entered him into the creative hall of Fame. His intense, eclectic selection of watches inducted him into the horological collectors’ club. Now, Piaget is leaning on that creative heritage with the new Piaget Andy Warhol Clou de Paris.

Andy Warhol & Yves Piaget

Piaget isn’t the only brand that Warhol wore. He’s perhaps best known for his Cartier prints, but the artist owned no less than seven Piaget watches of various sizes, shapes and calibres. Yet there was one that he became inextricably linked with: the Black Tie Watch of 1972. So, when Piaget revived the rounded square, dress watch design in 2014, it quickly became known as the Warhol watch. The latest version though makes that name official.

As of this month, Piaget have partnered with the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts to officially rename the timepiece the Andy Warhol Watch. It’s a small thing, but to make the name official is a stamp of approval from the people that know Andy’s legacy best. It also comes with a shiny new interpretation that might be the loveliest yet.

Piaget Black Tie Watch of 1972

The Andy Warhol Clou de Paris watch combines that rounded square of a cushion case – 45mm across of white gold – with the titular hobnail engraving pattern. Not on the dial mind you, but the bezel. The double row of engraving takes the place of some of the collection’s signature tiers and it looks magnificent. The dial on the other hand has been mainly left to its own devices, which makes sense; that blue meteorite is stunning enough that you wouldn’t want to interrupt it, except with slim indexes for readability’s sake.

Previous versions of the watch have used plenty of stone dials. Even before stone was in vogue, this was one of the few collections you could be guaranteed a slice of lapis of malachite. The meteorite is in a similar vein (pun intended) but with a much more modern, metallic hue. That combined with the Clous de Paris make this one of the more wearable in the collection.

The Andy Warhol Watch is powered by the 501P1 calibre automatic movement, a slim, 4hz number with a 40-hour power reserve, the perfect kind of movement for a dress watch like this.

I’ve always loved the Black Tie Watch as a kind of horological curio, something I’d be very unlikely to pick up myself but appreciate nonetheless. This version however I could certainly be tempted by.  The new Clous de Paris bezel and blue dial make for a much more modern watch and a much more wearable one at that. Sure, it’s (eye-wateringly) pricey at £55,500, but as dress watches go this is one of the more creative – which is certainly fitting. The only downside is that it doesn’t come with a pop art print. With a price like that, it probably should.

More details at Piaget.

Scandinavia is a fascinating part of the world, wild and untamed and yet home to some of the most stylish and well regarded designers of all time. It’s a unique melting pot of rugged Nordic influences and classy minimalism that you won’t find anywhere else. What’s more, all of these diverse elements find a wonderful place in horology – even though it’s not quite so well known as the watchmaking regions of Germany or France. From subtle dress watches, daily beaters and practical tool watches, you can find them all from across Denmark, Sweden, Norway and Finland. So without further ado, here are some of our favourite Scandinavian watch brands that you should know about.

Von Doren

Von Doren Il Tempo Gigante Automatisk Kronograf

From accessible flashes of summer ready colour to chunky, exceptional chronographs, Von Doren runs the full gamut of watches. As is the case with many a modern watch brand, founder Øyvind VonDoren Asbjørnsen was originally inspired by an heirloom Swiss timepiece handed down from his father. Far from an homage brand however, there’s something decidedly Norwegian about Von Doren, from their Art Nouveau inspirations to the stories their watches tell.

While the Runde is a handsome, colourful watch, for our money the ultra-cool, ultra-macho and ultra-retro Il Tempo Gigante is Von Doren’s opus. Inspired by Norwegian stop-motion film, 1975’s The Pinchcliffe Grand Prix, it’s every bit the throwback racing chronograph in a funky colourway of brown, black and yellow. It’s not your typical streamlined Scandi chic watch for sure, but it’s very much something only Von Doren could build.

More details at Von Doren.

GoS Watches

GoS Watches Sarek Rissa No1

Think of typical Scandinavian landscapes, the tundra, the glaciers, the Northern Lights, and you’ll see precisely where GoS Watches get their unique aesthetic. The Swedish brand is the brainchild of master watchmaker Patrick Sjögren, and smith and knifemaker Johan Gustafsson, who decided to pool their skills for a deeply Scandinavian brand.

From Gustafsson comes the copious use of Damascus steel across cases and some dials – albeit supplied these days by bladesmith Conny Persson; from Sjögren the kind of immaculate, nature-inspired finishing that would make Grand Seiko fans hot under the collar. The Norrsken, with its gorgeous wavy dial and even more gorgeous colours, is about as beautiful a Nordic watch as you can find.

More details at GoS.

Bravur Watches

Bravur Grand Tour La Corsa Rosa IV

There has always been some cross-over between cycling and watches, but no brand has encapsulated cycling culture quite as succinctly as Sweden’s Bravur Watches. After all, what watchmaker also produces a snappy line of cycling clothes? But while the jerseys and bib shorts are pared-back in a performance-oriented way, the watches are not.

Case in point, the Grand Tour La Corsa Rosa IV. A fabulous mix of tarmac grey (with a similarly inspired texture to it) and various shades of pink ranging from pale to hot, the watch is an homage to the Maglia Rosa, the leader’s jersey in the Giro d’Italia. It’s a showstopper, but there are also more subtle touches that show Bravur’s love of the sport. Look at the 13 on the minute track, for example. Not only would it not normally be there, but it’s upside-down, a reference to how the number 13 rider wears it to ward off bad luck. See? Nobody does cycling and watches like Bravur.

More details at Bravur.

Sarpaneva

Sarpaneva Supermoon

Sarpaneva’s angry moon looking like it’s been pulled right out of Georges Méliès’ imagination has become an icon of independent watchmaking. It’s just one part of the brand’s modern approach to high watchmaking, but it’s by far the most visible, especially when combined with the intensely skeletonised dials, unique case shapes and playful approach to lume. There’s a lot going on and that moon is the lynchpin of it all.

The brand’s Supermoon, as the name suggests, amps that up to the next level. The twin moon display at six o’clock has more character than most watchmakers can fit on an entire dial, a tribute to the brand’s earlier 2008 Korona K3. Apparently, this specific moon is an ode to Finnish spirit, though from personal experience most Finns I’ve met have been far, far happier than this melancholic orb. It is however everything Sarpaneva stands for.

More details at Sarpaneva.

REC Watches

REC Watches The Habu Limited Edition

Danish brand REC have carved out a historical niche for themselves with one spectacular inclusion: pieces of actual historical machines. If that sounds familiar, it’s something the wider watch industry has embraced in recent years but none to quite the same extent as REC. Their limited collection includes salvaged metal from cars, motorbikes, aircraft and pretty much anything that can move on its own steam.

We’re not just talking vintage here, either. The Habu, REC’s latest, is made from an SR-71 Blackbird, a legendary long-range reconnaissance aircraft that’s as much space craft as plane. The watch dial is made from the aircraft’s inner engine nacelle exhaust ejectors – and if you know what those are, REC as a brand probably get you very excited. Set in a titanium case inspired by the Blackbird’s aerodynamic form, it’s a statement watch in more ways than one.

More details at REC.

JS Watch Company

JS Watch Company 101 38mm

Hailing from Reykjavik and priding themselves on being one of the smallest watchmakers around, JS Watch Company nonetheless count the likes of Mads Mikkelsen, Ben Stiller, Ed Sheeran and Jude Law among their fans. That’s a big following for a small Icelandic watchmaker, but JS Watch Company offer the kind of watches that have purists fawning, with coin-edge bezels and the overwhelming choice of black or white dials.

Movements are Swiss workhorse numbers finished to the highest standards, which while a bit of a departure from those classical aesthetics, means they’re more affordable than they look. Take the 101 38mm as an example. The Goldilocks sizing, clean numerals (Roman or Arabic) and Breguet hands look like absolute stunners, with a price tag well under the £2,000 mark. With three generations of watchmaking heritage channelled into each and every watch, that’s pretty impressive.

More details at JS Watch Company.

Arcanaut

Arcanaut Fordite Nebulous Eye

Doing weird things with weird materials is the name of the game at Arcanaut. The Denmark-based but pan-Scandinavian brand’s collections embrace intriguing composites and colourful fordite (made from car industry paint run-off) dials, colours aplenty and a tongue-in-cheek approach to high-end watchmaking.

The Experimental Collection lives up to its name, with incredible lume dials and casebacks. The Bonehead, as an example, involves injecting a chunk of aluminium foam used in the aerospace industry with resin, then attaching the result to a solid block of lume. This isn’t experimental in the structured, lab-based sense but in the ‘just do it and see what works’ approach. And it’s hard not to love Arcanaut for that.

More details at Arcanaut.

Micromilspec

Micromilspec Milgraph

Until recently you would have had a hard time coming across a Micromilspec watch; they were the purview of military squadrons and regiments, the sort that you’d only see with black bars scrawled across their names. Now however, the brand is opening up a bit more with production watches available to civilians.

That watch is, specifically, the Milgraph. Channelling the brand’s years of custom military watches into one piece, its multifaceted design, quirky scales of various shapes and sizes, and a lightweight titanium case all combine to create a unique looking piece with a serious specs sheet. It’s a good sign of things to come and I’m looking forward to seeing what the Oslo-based brand does next.

More details at Micromilspec.

Bruvik

Bruvik Fjord N2.0

There are more integrated bracelet sports watches these days than ever before – including when they were at their initial height in the 1970s – so it takes a solid design for one to really stand out. Bruvik has three. If you want something a bit more elegant, there’s the Senja with it’s cool tessellating bezel. If you want a no-holds-barred twist on what the Bulgari Octo’s putting down, there’s the Fjord N2.0, which combines a GMT with a funky spider web/spacetime pattern across the dial.

Then there’s the Arctic Ocean, which yes, uses a strap, but one that’s about as integrated into the case as you can get. The latest edition also reveals the inner workings of the automatic movement, bordered by scales you’d expect to see on instrument panels as much as a watch. Of the three, I’m all about the Senja, but honestly, there’s something for everyone here.

More details at Bruvik.

Båge & Söner

Båge & Söner Brew Baby

Yes, these are alarm clocks and yes, I’m aware that an alarm clock is not a watch. But bear with me on this because not only are they small, portable timekeepers, but Båge & Söner borrow plenty from the world of actual horology. The dial looks like its ripped straight from a colourful dress watch, and the rounded corners of the square shape give the whole thing the kind of retro good looks that deserves a place next to your bed.

The Brew Baby variation is particularly cool, a combination of warm browns and golds that has the kind of sepia-tinted nostalgia of a valve amp. Oh, and speaking of audio, Båge & Söner’s alarm clocks start off quiet and ramp up, so no horrifically rude awakenings.

More details at Båge & Söner.

Sjöö Sandström

Sjöö Sandström Landsort 459m

No-nonsense cool is the name of the game with a brand I’m always going to try and avoid pronouncing out loud. They hit that sweet spot of quality and accessibility that make one of these streamlined flashes of Scandi design a flawless everyday wearer. The Royal collection – and the upper end Royal Capital version – offers the kind of versatility that means you don’t need to puzzle out what watch to strap on for the day.

That all said, there are some more specialist pieces in Sjöö Sandström’s line-up. The UTC Skydiver does what it says on the tin, offering an ani-digi display fit for the literal jet-set. My favourite outlier however is the Landsort 459m. Named after the Landsort deep and sharing a name with an idyllic Swedish island, its charming asymmetrical silhouette makes it fall into the realms of a much more wearable Ploprof, with plenty of water resistance to boot. If you’re wondering why 459, that’s the deepest ravine in the Baltic sea. If you need anything more than that, you’re braver than I.

More details at Sjöö Sandström.

Halda

Halda Race Pilot

While they have since created the ultra-classical Henning XO, a 40mm solid gold, pocket watch-inspired slice of haute horological finishing, I’d argue that it’s a bit of an outlier. That’s because the rest of their collection riffs off the same concept: a smartwatch paired with an analogue watch in a swap-in-swap-out outer case. Traditional it is not. Dubbed the Race Pilot – or Trackmaster/Space Discovery depending on which variation you opt for – the watch includes both a mechanical module in various levels of ultra-modern performance looks and what is essentially a racing computer.

Fittingly for a racing watch, the mechanical movement is from Zenith, while the smart module will track all your stats on the track. In an era of redundant ‘racing’ chronographs, this might be the only real racing watch around. It also very much looks the part, and I can’t understate how satisfying the modules are to pop in and pop out. It’s overengineered and I love it.

More details at Halda.

“The difference between a madman and me is that I am not mad.” It’s not too much of a surprise Salvador Dali had to come up with a pithy response around his ‘paranoiac-critical method’. The idea of deliberately causing hallucinations for your art smacks of more than a little madness. He wanted to allow his brain to form links between things that the rational mind would not conceive, deliriously associating disparate objects or concepts.

If that all sounds a bit much, this was surrealism and surrealism revelled in the strange. For them, dropping mescaline was a perfectly fitting way to create art – and it worked. In 1931, the results of Dali’s method presented themselves in one of the most famous works of art ever created: The Persistence of Memory.

The Persistence of Memory

Even if you don’t know the name, you know the painting, with its melting clocks. As a work, it’s easy to extrapolate themes from, perceptions of time, the surrealist collapse of established order or, in the artists own words, a camembert melting in the sun. No matter your own interpretation, it’s a fascinating piece and one that has inspired generations of creatives from its home at New York’s Museum of Modern Art.

So, why does this all matter? Other than the link between surrealism and watches that The Persistence of Memory represents, of course. Well, that’s because one watch brand has decided to interpret the ambiguous work very, very literally: Exaequo. Exaequo does one thing and one thing only, a physical interpretation of Dali’s melting watches dubbed, intuitively, the Melting Watch. This isn’t just ‘inspired’ by surrealism; the case has been rendered to that it looks like a round watch that’s been pinched in the middle, squashed into some approximation of a figure of eight. There’s nothing else quite like it on the market – and the dial takes things even further.

Exaequo has opted for Roman numerals, with the numbers themselves expanding into their space between the railway minute track and the lower, stepped down centre of the dial. That means they go from, larger at 12 and six o’clock to tiny and cramped at three o’clock and nine. Even that railway minute track around the edge of the two-level dial fits in a show of serious dedication to that surrealist theme.

The Melting Watch is available in a few colourways. Firstly, the case is available in steel or gold PVD. The gold is definitely a striking option, but I only really like PVD on a sports watch personally. Sure, it’s unique, but the Melting Watch is ostensibly a dress piece, so a proper gold case wouldn’t risk damage. It would however jump the price up hugely and accessibility, as we’ll get onto, is a good part of Exaequo.

Dial-wise you’re looking at the usual suspects: black, silver, blue and green, with a funky yellow dial rounding things off with a twist. The green version has gold numerals in the PVD case, silver numerals in the steel, but the rest are the same between models. It’s a solid selection, but I would have liked to see it with Arabic numerals as an option. After all, the watches in The Persistence of Memory have them, and that’s a large part of the inspiration here.

Obviously, this isn’t the first weirdly asymmetrical watch to ever be built; the Cartier Crash is a grail watch that most collectors would drop more than mescaline for. But where that haute horology rarity often achieves eye-watering auction prices, Exaequo offers their slice of surrealist madness for a fraction of the price – fitting given the name translates to ‘on equal footing.’

That’s largely due to the movement more than anything else, which is an ever-reliable quartz number, the Ronda 751-1. Sure, I’d like to see something like this with an automatic, but given the unique case shape, that’s easier said than done. Quartz can be smaller and slimmer at this price point, making sure that the curvaceous case doesn’t balloon to a weirdly inflated size.

This isn’t high watchmaking, far from it in fact. The stainless-steel version will set you back CHF 520, around £465, with the PVD version a tiny increase on that. But for the artistically inclined this is a fantastic, accessible and inspired take on surrealism made real. If someone told me that someone was going to create a melting watch based on Dali, I’d have probably called him a madman. The difference, it turns out, is that he’s not mad. Here’s hoping that not-madness extends to automatics in the future.

More details at Exaequo.

Sometimes there can be a bit of a disconnect between what watch collectors in a general sense think a watch should be and what the professionals actually using those watches need. That disconnect comes in myriad forms, but the one that stands out the most is a grudge match that’s been happening since the late 1970s: quartz vs automatic.

Automatic is, of course, the more prestigious of the two, purely mechanical and theoretically eternal – with a bit of servicing, of course. But the problem is, they’re simply less accurate and less reliable than their battery-powered siblings – which is why you often find that watches squarely aimed at professionals use quartz. After all, when accurate timekeeping is more important than resale value, there’s no competition between the two.

ProTek Official USMC Series, quartz (PT1016D)

It’s no surprise therefore that ProTek, who have been unashamedly building watches for the military, have thus far relied almost entirely on quartz movements. Unlike other brands, for them it’s never been about cost (quartz being markedly cheaper than mechanical), otherwise they would have settled for standard lume instead of the intense H3 gas tubes they’ve made their name with. Instead, it’s always been about building the best tool for the job – even when (or especially) when those jobs are off the books.

ProTek Automatic Carbon Composite USMC Dive Series (PT1212)

The thing is, if you make watches for a certain sub-set of professionals that do the job and look good doing it, you’re going to get other people interested, especially when those same characteristics make for a solid overall diving watch. And while the United States Marine Corps likely still want the tactical benefits of quartz, for collectors who simply love the intensely rugged aesthetic of ProTek’s USMC collection, an automatic movement would seal the deal. So, that’s what the brand has done.

The new USMC Automatic collection does what it says on the tin. It has the same gloriously chunky 42mm case in lightweight carbon composite; it has the same ratcheting unidirectional diving bezel with absurdly large grips and the same 300m water resistance, tested for once in water as well as air pressure. In short, it still looks and feels like the kind of Expendables-level hardware a spec ops unit needs.

ProTek’s Pro-Glo illumination system

It even houses ProTek’s signature Pro-Glo illumination system, which we’ve covered previously. For a quick recap though, their watches use tritium gas tubes which glow under their own steam – no need to charge them – for 25 years. Oh and they’re 100x brighter than conventional lume.

The only difference between the previous models and these is that the reliable Japanese quartz movement has been replaced by a reliable Japanese automatic, swapping the Miyota for a Seiko. If you want reliability and accuracy at an accessible level, you shop Japanese and the workhorse Seiko in the new USMC Automatic models is a watchmaking staple for a reason. It’s also one of the most ubiquitous – and therefore easily serviced and repaired – movements around, just in case the worst happens.

ProTek Stainless Steel Automatic 2200 Series

While the use of an automatic means that you will need to sync watches before a mission, it also means you won’t be left high and dry because you forgot to put in a battery – and means that both the superb Pro-Glo Illumination System and the movement are completely autonomous.

Of course, if the USMC watch is a bit too militaristic for you, ProTek has also updated their more style-conscious Series 2200, which offer a steel case and more colourful options for more everyday wear. The ethos is the same, offering a new autonomous movement to collectors put off by quartz, just in a more casual package.

ProTek Automatic Carbon Composite USMC Dive Series (PT1212)

So, what about price? Well, as I mentioned previously, automatic movements are generally more expensive than quartz, often by orders of magnitude. Here, not so much. The previous price for the quartz-equipped USMC Dive model was $495 (approx. £380), which for a watch with a carbon case, unique design ethos and tritium gas tubes is downright insane, regardless of movement. The automatic? That’ll set you back just $200 more.

Pair that uber-accessible price tag with some eye-catching new dials – the red in particular pops like nothing else in ProTek’s range – and you have a new heavy-hitter in sheer value. Yes, anyone taking their watch on a night mission will likely still opt for the original quartz USMC pieces, but for those of us that prefer the long-lasting autonomy and, yes, prestige of an automatic watch, the new collection absolutely nails it.

More details at ProTek Watches.

When thinking about Omologato watches, I ask the question what makes a racing watch? The obvious, technical answer would be a chronograph with a tachymeter, something that made its debut trackside. But thematically there are so many more timepieces that link themselves to motorsport, with a splash of livery here and there. Both of these could be considered ‘racing watches’ at a stretch, but when the link’s that tenuous, should they be? So, would it be too much of a stretch to define a racing watch as a watch that’s, well, associated with actual racing?

With that, I think, very fair definition, you cut through the noise to the core racing watches and while you do indeed still have some big names, Omologato stands out as a serious contender. The reason for that lies solely with the British brand’s founder, Shami Kalra.

Today, Omologato have ties with the racing world that the big Swiss maisons could only dream of, with car lovers and team owners both flocking to his various, accessible collections. But they’re relationships that didn’t come out of nowhere. Prior to Omologato, Shami had been supplying watches to racing teams; the kind of watches that owners would thank their crews with or commemorate victories, that kind of thing. They were special pieces for special moments. So when Shami decided to strike out properly with an own-name dial in 2015, he did so with the wind behind him. Those relationships, those connections have driven Omologato ever since.

Omologato Panamericana

Let’s be frank, Omologato is a watch company and their main business is making and selling watches. That much I’m sure we all agree on. I think we can all agree that they’re also pretty good at it, tying a plethora of retro designs to automotive iconography as broad as a famous car, as niche as a famous corner.

There’s a lot I could say about them – especially their ultra-cool TV-shaped Panamericana – but I won’t, at least not here. Because the bottom line is that anyone can do something similar. I could go and research some obscure racing paraphernalia, hire a designer and get some cheap watches turned around in a month. They wouldn’t be as cool or as interesting, but it would be easy – and completely insincere.

Shami awarding his friend with the Omologato Award

Sincerity. It’s that one word that has, for me at least, really come to set Omologato and Shami apart from even the often very sincere British watch industry. Shami doesn’t just design racing watches; he’s a fixture of the racing industry, full stop.

Shami has made it his self-imposed mandate to help racers and racing teams compete across the spectrum of the sport, from amateur level competitions to professional races like the Indy500. Not Formula 1 of course, there’s more than enough money sloshing about there, but the kinds of races that are built on and defined by passion. To that end, he’s become a bit of a fixer, scoring some free Pirelli tires for one team here, brokering a $22 million private jet there, whatever he can do to help dedicated teams keep the lights on. In short, if you’re on a racing team that’s struggling to keep your fuel tank full, drop Omologato a line.

Omologato 911 from the East African Classic Rally on display at thee Rotunda at The RAC Club in Pall Mall London (2019)

If these kinds of deals end with Omologato on some sleek racing livery then so be it, but that’s not the point. They’re a brand that lives and breathes the sport that’s given them so much inspiration. In 2025 in fact, they’re taking the next logical step along that line of thinking: starting their own Indy500 team.

Most of us wouldn’t know how to go about starting and entering a team into what’s a serious competition. For Shami, it involved a call to racing legend Chip Ganassi to get a (quite eye-watering) price, then a friend who specialised in sponsorship deals to secure said price. And it just kept going. When another racer and close friend of the brand found out #TeamOmologato was happening, he brought in yet more funds to the nascent team, topped off by an engine supplier donating the beating heart of the car.

On the one hand, entering a car at all shows Omologato’s dedication to the sport. On the other, the sheer relative ease with which Shami has pulled it all together proves that his is a brand built on relationships and passion, not light blue and orange colourways. There’s still a way to go before Shami can stand trackside as a proud team owner (and most likely an even longer way to go before a win), but they’re on the right track.

More details at Omologato.

While GMTs are the de facto travellers’ watch, for my money nothing quite beats a worldtimer. The first watch I ever bought myself was a handsome Longines worldtimer number from their Master Collection and I still wear it regularly. It’s clean, sleek and has a less-is-more, blue-and-silver look I love. So where does the Carl F. Bucherer Heritage Worldtimer stack up?

The problem is, more watchmakers than not take a maximalist approach to worldtimers. Atlas dials rendered in exquisite detail, globe motifs everywhere, they really take the ‘world’ in worldtime and run with it – to exhaustion. There’s heritage there (Patek Philippe jumps to mind) but for me, simplicity is key to rendering 24 timezones in a coherent way.

The Carl F. Bucherer Heritage Worldtimer is about as clean and legible as they come. No detailed map, no details that look like they’re stripped from airline branding, just a stunning, pure silver dial.

I’m a huge fan of monochrome anyway, it oozes 1950s chic like nothing else and on a travellers’ complication has that ‘golden age of air travel’ glamour to it. It makes me feel like the jetsetter I always know I’ve been. That’s doubly the case here, with a mix of a matte rhodium city ring, a matt silver 24-hour ring and sunray brushed inner dial. Each has a very subtle distinction, but it’s there if you look. I don’t want to say it’s a watch for connoisseurs… but it kind of is.

The city ring itself takes up quite a large portion of the dial, perhaps a touch too much. It makes sense, with a solid double layer of cities to make sure they’re still readably large. There would be no point having a worldtimer with lettering too small to pick out, and the all-silver look gets away with it more than other watches. But a slimmer city ring would make the entire thing feel a bit more elegant.

There are multiple versions of the Heritage Worldtimer, of course. There’s a black dialled version that, honestly, just doesn’t have the cache of the silver. The silver though is available in a steel or rose gold (and limited edition) case, the former of which we have here. I can’t say for sure which I prefer. The gold is certainly more glamorous, and pairs with those lovely rose gold indexes, but the steel amps up the monochrome. If I had to come down on one side, it would likely be the steel – if only because that’s more in my price range.

Speaking of the cases, they measure in at 39mm, with a height of 10.25. For me, that’s goldilocks territory, although on the wrist it feels a touch larger if only because of the amount of stuff on the dial. It feels nice, the lugs are slightly curved, and it is indeed nicely readable without having to crane your neck over your wrist to peer closely at the time in Tokyo.

It’s not just easy to read, but easy to operate too. In case you’ve been wondering this whole time what that funky nine o’clock crown was all about, that’s to quick-change the city disc. It’s ripped straight from the 1950s heritage number this is based on and is something I’d like to see in more worldtimers. With my Longines, for example, you need to change the minute hand until the 24-hour ring syncs up, then jump the hour to the correct local time. Not so here. It also makes for a supremely cool rotating dial.

Inside is the CFB A2020 automatic movement. It’s a solid COSC-certified number with a 55-hour power reserve that looks like a manual-wind movement at first glance. That’s because the rotor is peripheral, giving an unobstructed view of the mainplates with plenty of cotes de Geneve, snailing and the balance spring. It’s also part of the reason the watch can maintain that 10.5mm thinness. I’ve been told that peripheral winding can be more efficient than your standard rotors, but I really didn’t have this for long enough to dive that deep. The bottom line is that it makes for a stunning caseback.

For me, Carl F. Bucherer’s is a phenomenal template for a worldtimer. Is there more they could do with it? Absolutely. After all, this is a more streamlined take on their previous Heritage Worldtimer, so there’s always room for improvement. I’d love to see it with a bit of guilloche on that central dial, or a slimmer city ring, a few things like that. On its own merits however – the all-silver, ‘50s glamour, the cool peripheral rotor, the sheer readability of the complication – it’s a fantastic traveller’s watch from a brand I think too many people are sleeping on.

The Carl F. Bucherer Heritage Worldtimer is also priced well for what it is at £6,600. There are cheaper worldtimers out there; there are more expensive. And I think it’s a fair price for what is a great watch.

More details at Carl F. Bucherer.

The rumours are true: Patek Philippe’s first new collection since 1999 is here and, unless you’ve had your ear to the ground for the last couple of weeks, it’s probably not what you’re expecting. This is, of course, the new Patek Philippe Cubitus – and it’s certainly something. It’s also, very firmly (according to Patek themselves) square.

The Cubitus is, first and foremost, Patek Philippe’s first square watch. They’ve dabbled in ellipses aplenty, circles of all sizes and whatever you want to call the Gondola, but this is their first square, and was apparently somewhat of a passion project for Patek’s Thierry Stern: “since I was quite young, I always challenged myself to say, ‘I need to have also a beautiful square watch in the collection.’ So that’s how we started, actually.”

And yet, it’s not entirely square, either. With it’s octagonal bezel, with four shorter and four longer sides, it aesthetically feels like they’ve simply squared the circle of the Nautilus. The similarities to Patek’s genuinely iconic sports watch don’t stop there either. The new Cubitus has similar bold shoulders either side and even the same grooved dial and integrated bracelet as the Nautilus. So while it may be a first for the Swiss watchmaker and might feel pretty left-field, it’s not exactly a huge departure from their usual sports style. If you’ve ever seen the old ‘Nautellipse’, the Cubitus fits in rather well.

As you’d expect with this calibre of watchmaking, the case surfaces are alternately brushed and polished, emphasising that striking shape across the many edges. I don’t really need to go into the finishing too much; it’s a Patek, you know it’s going to be phenomenal.

There are currently three models in the collection. The first is in steel with a green dial, marking an entrypoint into the Cubitus collection. The second is my favourite of the three, a rose gold and steel bi-colour number with a classic blue dial. The last is the complicated version, a platinum case with a blue dial and grand date, day subdial and moonphase.

The green will set you back £35,330, the bi-colour £52,480 and the platinum £75,690. The time-only models are equipped with the calibre 26-330 C with a 35–45-hour power reserve. The day-date watch uses the 240 PS with a 38–48-hour power reserve. All the movements are, of course, visible through the exhibition case back and are, equally obviously, stunning.

Now, there’s been some divisiveness around the Cubitus. Square watches aren’t for everyone and a square version of the Nautilus isn’t something anyone was particularly clamouring for – except perhaps Stern himself. But all the furore is around the shape. The watch itself is well-made, has all those Patek hallmarks and scratches that well-heeled steel sports watch itch. I imagine it will go the way of the Code 11:59, divisive now but something we’ll all soon calm down over and accept. At the very least, it’s nice to have something even harder to get hold of than a Nautilus.

It might not be the 5711 replacement we were all hoping for, but maybe it’s the one we deserve?

More details at Patek Philippe.

What was the last watch you bought?

A lovely vintage 25mm Zodiac. It was a sort of compulsive purchase. Such a small diameter makes this watch really discrete by essence…but when on the wrist, you basically cannot miss how small it is…hence making the watch quite ‘talkative’. This watch is my portable sensei reminding me how we can make a strength out of what we may commonly consider ‘a flaw’.

Do you collect anything outside of watches?

I’m not sure I’m collecting watches in the first place. I do have a few. But I never really feel like I’m collecting them. I usually swap or resell them to only keep a few pieces. ‘Collecting’ is a serious term and a serious thing. I am not able to live up to that.

What’s at the top of your wishlist?

A watch with my actual name on it. I’m obsessed with that and it became like a North Star to me. Like some sort of a dream, I constantly procrastinate about so that the dream remains intact and perfect and pure. I love this contradiction when you basically stay the furthest away from the thing you really want.

What is a recent find or discovery?

I’ve only learned today that in 1968, the French author and World War II hero Romain Gary challenged Clint Eastwood to a duel after he learned that Eastwood had an affair with his wife, the actress Jean Seberg.

What inspires you?

I’m never able to point out specific things when it comes to inspiration. I see myself like a snooker cue ball constantly colliding with the rest of the pack. A small particle which is desperately trying to find its own way and find its own voice but obviously impacted and influenced by many other particles. Another way to answer could be that I’m inspired by my shower since lot of my ideas come from this place.

What is a book, podcast or album that changed the way you think?

It takes more than a book (or a podcast or an album) to change a mind. I guess it takes dozens and dozens of books to picture dozens and dozens of paths (or dead-ends) that may help shape your mind. So, no specific book changed the way I think. But a whole bookstore probably did. I loved Les Arpenteurs (9 Rue Choron, 75009 Paris) that was the bookstore I used to shop when in Paris.

Who is a celebrity of person of note that you admire?

Definitely the one I told you about a few lines before. The guy that challenged Dirty Harry in real life. What he has done through his life is insane. Splendid writer. Pilot and war hero. Diplomat. Director. Romain Gary is the epitome of a real-life super-hero capable of everything. His surreal and bright life attracts the young part of your heart. Then his darkness touches the more adult part of your soul.

What is your ideal long weekend?

Whatever the people. Whatever the place. Whatever the weather. If a nice idea comes to my mind during that weekend, then it is a good and fulfilling weekend. I’m hooked by the thrill of finding a new idea.

What would we always find in your fridge?

What matters more is not what’s in it, but what’s on it. Usually, the cheap magnets or bad photographs picturing some happy faces or happy places you have a special bond with.

What is a rule or mantra that you live by?

“At some point, something good will happen”. Let’s be clear, I did not encounter real tragedy in my life. But during some tough times, I’ve always tried to stick to that weird biblical hope.

What does the year ahead look like for you?

Lot of work, some challenges, some failures, some small achievements, and some bigger frustrations. That’s the plan. Looking forward to it!

More details at Seconde Seconde.

While today’s article focusses on the Rado True Square Automatic Skeleton Blue, if you took at Rado’s direction over the past few years, you’d be forgiven for assuming that they produced one watch in infinite variations of the Captain Cook. Ever since they relaunched the retro diver, they’ve been riffing on the theme with different colours, materials and levels of skeletonisation, which is a shame, not because there’s anything wrong with the flagship watch, but because it squeezes out some of the cooler, quirkier facets of the brand.

Indeed, while the Captain Cook was super successful in the 1960s, Rado’s history has been defined not by diving, but by sleek futurism and ceramic, the kind of pieces that still feel cutting-edge in design today. That’s especially true of the Ceramica from the 1990s, Rado’s first square, full ceramic watch – case, crown and bracelet all.

As far as I’m concerned, the Ceramica is a definitive ‘90s model and, while I wait with bated breath for some kind of reissue (if it worked for Hamilton’s PRX…), the next best thing is the model’s updated sibling, the True Square. Sure, the True Square’s perhaps a more traditional watch, with a bracelet narrower than the case, but it still has the same sleek, smooth, ceramic look – and the latest True Square Skeleton Blue amps up that funky futurism to a new level.

Rado love ceramic; it’s part of their DNA more than anyone save, perhaps, IWC. But this year they’ve been trying their hand at coloured ceramic, particularly blue. It’s something they leveraged previously on our cover-starring Captain Cook x England Cricket watch, which used a combination of blue and white. Personally, I prefer it here.

The smooth, rounded shoulders where the strap meets the case, the almost glossy sheen and the tactile bezel all look great in this specific shade of dark blue, less aesthetically plasticky than you sometimes get with something like white. It’s not the first time the True Square’s been released in coloured ceramic – as in, not white or black – as there have been both turquoise and peach versions in the past. But I would argue it’s the most wearable colour. It is very glossy, which I imagine would put some people off and while I’d prefer a matte finish if only to hide fingerprints, it does add to the True Square’s space-age sheen.

That ultra-modern look is emphasised by the dial too – or more accurately, lack thereof. Other than the two horizontal blue bridges dividing the open space into three, the entire movement is open. Rather than leave it as is, Rado has given the movement plenty of Côtes de Genève, making a feature of the visible metal.

Despite being technically a skeleton watch, there’s not actually many places you can see through the watch in its entirety, which I’m completely on board with. I’ve gone on (broken) record explaining that I wear a watch to hide my wrists, not stare at my arm hair, but I do like the intensely mechanical look of a clearly visible movement. This is the best of both worlds, especially when the metalwork you can see is tastefully finished.

Said movement is the R808, the same calibre as in the Captain Cook skeleton and pretty much any modern skeleton Rado. Said movement has a Nivachron hairspring for anti- magnetic properties and a power reserve of 80 hours which, given Rado’s a Swatch Group brand, we can assume that this is a Powermatic 80 by any other name, just much better finished.

Other than the colour, the most unusual thing about the new True Square is the collection’s first strap. The model always came on a bracelet before and for good reason, tracing its lineage as it does back to the Ceramica. It’s also a bit of a flex, as making a full ceramic bracelet isn’t as easy as it sounds, and it sounds pretty tough. Change is good though and the comfy, flexible rubber as an alternative to a full, polished bracelet makes the True Square immeasurably more wearable in a daily context. I’m not quite sure why it’s taken this long to make it a reality.

That wearability is the crux here. The True Square and the Ceramica before it have always been just the right edge of aesthetically cutting-edge, perennially new and shiny, and using ceramic for its looks perhaps more than the practicality other watchmakers love it for. But the combination of that flattering blue and the rubber strap pull back a little from that look, less futuristic, more forward- thinking and a lot more wearable – especially with this much horological tech at this price point.

Yes, there are a couple of issues. A mere 50m water resistance is less than I’d like for a daily wearer and I do find it a bit too glossy. But while it’s still not for everyone, it’s for many more potential collectors than ever before. Including me. At least, if they did a matte version.

More details at Rado.

While British success stories in Formula 1 tend to centre around Lewis Hamilton – as well they should, he’s a legend – George Russell has quietly been making a serious name for himself. At a fresh-faced 26 years old, he’s one of the younger racers on the grid and, when we caught up with him ahead of the Hungarian Grand Prix back in the summer, was still revelling in the best season of his career. So, how was he finding the season so far?

“It’s been… I wouldn’t say a rollercoaster, but it’s been one that we’ve been climbing,” says Russell. “At the start we were at the bottom of the mountain and been steadily getting closer to the top. There’s so much excitement and motivation when you’re on a team like this, like we have a visible return on everything we’ve been putting in, that momentum we’ve been building up.”

George winning the Austrian Grand Prix 2024

We were talking shortly after his second F1 victory in Austria, which was a bit of a hairy one. After spending most of the race in third – still a respectable podium finish – Lando Norris and Max Verstappen ahead of him got a little too close to one another, crashing to take them both out the race. It was a far cry from Russell’s incredibly convincing first win. But was there a difference to him?

“Each win is incomparable. Every race is a completely different scenario. My first, in Brazil, was where I was ahead every lap. I’d done fantastically the day before and the pressure was there. Near the end I had Lewis on my tail and it was a relief to get across that finish line. In Austria I was happy to be in third – and then it all kicked off ahead and the opportunity arose. Every race is different and you never really know how it’s going to go, even when you’re behind the wheel.”

With that kind of uncertainty, it has to be hard to prepare yourself for racing at this level. There’s the danger of course, as that crash in Austria – and a multitude of other times – shows. But none of these guys would be racing if that put them off. Instead, we were more interested to find out of the pressure ever got to him – and more importantly, what Russell did to cope with it.

“I’m a little obsessive. I try to make sure I’ve gone through all the preparation possible with my engineers, taken a look at last year’s data, gone over the car, the weather conditions, anything I feel I need to be looking for. Once I’ve ticked them all off, I’m at peace, mentally. I know I’m at my peak physical condition, I know every race is going to be tough. But there are 19 other drivers and hopefully they’ll find it tougher than I will. After that, what will happen, will happen, it’s out of your control.”

With that huge amount of pressure every single week, the intense training regime to stay in that physical condition and the sheer hectic nature of a globe-trotting racing competition, decompression seems like a necessity. Russell though seems to want to take decompressing very literally.

“I love being by the sea, so I’ve started free diving, which is a bit of a random hobby, but when I’m out in the water I’m just so focused on my breathing, on being underwater that I just disconnect from the world. Once beneath the sea, down there with the fish and coral, you’re not thinking about anything else – except having enough breath to get back to the top!”

Russell isn’t the only British racing legend around. We’ve had a long, illustrious line of champions of which Hamilton is only the latest and Russell could potentially be next. For Russell, there’s something in the inspiration of champions of old, and having seven of the ten Formula 1 teams based in the UK helps. But for him, the key to British racing success is British racing green grass roots.

“I remember racing with Lando [Norris] and Alex [Albon], and alongside other racers who didn’t make it to Formula 1 but have made professional racing careers. There’s definitely something about the grass roots level here that works. But it needs to stay at that level. This isn’t the most economical sport in the world, so we need to make sure that we can give kids that don’t have the opportunity otherwise the funding they need to get behind the wheel and try go-karting.”

That said, go-karting is never going to be cheap for most would-be podium contenders, and whether it’s that or sheer space, it’s an opportunity sadly few kids have. E-sports on the other hand, is different.

“Simulators have advanced so much now. The Formula 1 game is fantastic and there should be ways we can identify talent sooner, instead of just having financial backing to push you through the ranks.”

Young George Russel (middle) winning the CIK-FIA European KF3 Championship (2011)

Whether coming from the classic karting angle or from killing it online with photorealistic driving games, kids are going to need to have to contend with one of the most intensely competitive sports in the world – if not the most. According to Russell though, they shouldn’t be afraid of making mistakes; quite the opposite.

“The one piece of advice that I try to embrace myself is: don’t be afraid to fail. The times I’ve failed have been the times I’ve progressed the most, the times I’ve really pushed my limited. It doesn’t matter what you do, failure is necessary. It’s how we grow, how we learn about ourselves. There’s so much pressure not to let people down, especially with younger people, but you don’t want to go through life never making a mistake or knowing where your ceiling is.”

And any advice for those of us not thinking of a career in racing? Even shaving a few seconds off a track day would help for a few more bragging rights.

“No matter what you’re driving, stay relaxed. I’ve driven with people that have never been on a track before. They tense up, hunch over and it makes everything erratic. Smooth is fast, smooth with the steering, throttle and brake. It’s not necessarily how we drive in Formula 1, but if you want to speed up on a track day, stay relaxed.”

Obviously, it’s not lost on Russell just how many kids and F1 fans alike look up to him as a sportsman. He’s young, he’s hungry and his experience is starting to pay off. But for Russell, there are other sportspeople in other sports – and one in his own who I’m sure you can guess – that he looks up to.

“I have a huge amount of respect for [Cristiano] Ronaldo. He’s without a doubt the leader in his field. The same with [Novak] Djokovic, they’re fighters that push their physical performance. Then there’s Lewis [Hamilton], obviously. He puts his platform to great use and I admire him for that as much as his wins and what he’s doing off the track. I hope to be one of those leaders in years to come.”

Now he may well get a chance as Lewis will, in 2025, be moving from Mercedes as Russell’s teammate over to Ferrari. It’s a bold move, but on the other hand it means that Russell will soon be able to race his former teammate as an actual rival. Will that be weird?

“He’ll be wearing a different suit, but I’ll still recognise him! We’re at different stages in our career but we have massive respect for one another. For now, I’ll see him on the track.”

Speaking about wearing things, what watches have been on his wrist?

“I wear a lot of watches, actually. Right now, it’s the Ingenieur! I wore it for the first time at Wimbledon when it was still super fresh. I’ve also got my annual calendar and Top Gun back home. I like my team watch during race weekends to go with my suit, I wore it when I was on the podium in Austria. It fits so well.”

More details at George Russell 63.

There are plenty of milestones that link watches and space. We all know about the first watch in space (Alexi Leonov’s Strela), the first automatic watch in space (Colonel William Pogue’s Seiko) and the first watch on the moon (do I even need to say it?). But there’s one particular extra-terrestrial first you might not have heard of before: the first watch repair in space.

Back in 2002, just two years after the International Space Station began its orbit of Earth, astronaut Don Pettit was having timekeeping issues. His watch at the time was the Omega Speedmaster X-33, the quartz version of other astronaut’s manual-wind Moonwatches. The problem was that parts of it had become loose. It was a factory issue that Omega corrected soon after, but that didn’t help Pettit at the time when the crown and buttons fell off and floated into the ether.

Omega Speedmaster X-33 being repaired in space by Don Pettit

Those parts weren’t gone forever though. They were actually caught by the ISS’s air filters and were rediscovered when the filters were being cleaned out. Rather than chuck the parts out, Pettit decided to make an impromptu repair. He used a strip of duct tape to stop the pieces floating off again and set to putting everything back together with nothing but a multitool, a pair of tweezers and a jeweller’s screwdriver.

Using engineering skills he’d practiced on diesel engines in college, he put the watch back together perfectly – which was something that had never been done before. Indeed, it wasn’t really thought that it could be done. At the time, replacing was the norm rather than repairing, which was easier, provided you had plenty of suppliers, but far less efficient. Pettit’s repair got NASA thinking that maybe there was a better way – especially when the Columbia disaster happened and supplies were in short, er, supply.

Omega Speedmaster X-33

In short, Pettit’s wasn’t just the first watch repair in space, but spurred NASA on to attempt much more nuanced repairs in zero gravity, something vital for the ISS’s continued success. Indeed, without that, an even more niche space-watch milestone might not have occurred: the first watch strap repair, courtesy of astronaut Scott Kelly.

Now, you may have heard of Scott Kelly before if you’re the kind of person that reads NASA mission logs or New Scientist regularly. Not only did he spend one year in orbit, but he was part of a very unusual experiment. You see, Scott has a twin brother – Mark Kelly. Other than Scott’s lustrous moustache, it’s impossible to tell the pair apart. And so, NASA embarked on an experiment to see just how space changed a person.

Scott Kelly along with his brother, former Astronaut Mark Kelly

Ten research teams around the USA came together to test for physiological, molecular and cognitive changes, using Mark (who by the way, is also a retired astronaut) as a baseline to compare Scott to. I won’t go into the details here, you can find an exhaustive list on the NASA website, but it showed how dramatically a human body can adapt to space and therefore how an even longer flight – to Mars, for example – will affect interplanetary travellers.

And yet that’s not all that happened. During Scott’s time on the International Space Station in 2015, one of his crewmates, Sergey Volkov, had an equipment malfunction. Nothing dramatic, no airlocks blowing out or anything like that. Instead, the bracelet of his Breitling Chronomat broke. Given the strains and stresses of taking a rocket out of the atmosphere, it’s perhaps not too surprising, but as I’ve already pointed out, a watch can be the difference between life and death. Having it flapping about your wrist like a limp parachute isn’t ideal.

Scott Kelly (front row middle), Sergey Volkov (rear left)

So, what to do? Well, Scott, along with his twin brother, just so happens to be a Breitling ambassador meaning that when the breakage occurred, he knew exactly who to call. After a brief satellite call to Mark, a Breitling repair kit was added into the essentials of the next ISS shipment from Earth, probably the most expensive repair item in history. Fortunately, Scott also knew his way around a watch, at least well enough to fix his colleague’s bracelet. Yes, it was fiddlier than anywhere on Earth – a spring bar is frustrating enough on terra firma, let alone floating in zero G – but it made for the first ever watch strap repair in space. It’s not a milestone that’ll come up much in record books, but it’s still a nice story of pioneering horology.