Luxury Watch Collection: Departed Timepieces

Modernahab's candid reflection on watches that have left his collection offers a unique perspective on the evolution of a collector's taste and priorities. His journey, marked by personal connection rather than strict horological dogma, provides a relatable framework for understanding the emotional and practical decisions behind curating a personal watch collection. This article delves into the 'why' behind parting with timepieces, a topic often overlooked in the pursuit of acquisition.

Maybe there are a few WPS participants out there who have never sold or traded away a watch, but if you’re like me, chances are there were a few dearly departed members of your collection that you let go of for one reason or another. In light of a couple recent WPS threads, I thought it might be fun, if also a bit self-indulgent, to share the memories of some watches I parted with over the years and why I decided to do so. 

A few disclaimers: I can’t pretend to be a serious, or even particularly knowledgeable collector. Right now, I own roughly 30 watches, and I have not acquired them systematically by house, style, vintage, or complication type. I have no industry connections, watchmaking experience, or technical/historical expertise in horology. Just a guy who enjoys watches. If I own a watch, it’s because I like wearing it. That means I neither have nor aspire to a vast collection that resides mostly in safe deposit boxes. I’m not a big spender by WPS standards, either. I generally purchase in the US $5,000 to US $50,000 range, and because many of the watches I like best are no longer made, I predominantly purchase them pre-owned. 

One of the threads that got me thinking about this subject in the first place was on watches you regretted parting with. (Pace the thread originator - I can’t remember whose it was.) Oddly enough, I don’t recall any watch I truly regret selling or trading away after the fact. (See above, re: my acquiring watches because I want to wear them.) The first step towards a watch leaving my hands is the observation that I’m not wearing it. Worth noting: I have never parted with a watch that was given to me as a gift, much as I may have been tempted from time to time. Indeed, although I never wear it, I still have the Baume & Mercier Hampton quartz reference my wife gifted me sometime in the 1980s.

I thought I’d work forwards chronologically here, as the history of my dear departees can be read as a road map of my journey as a watch aficionado. In fact, the first watch I ever traded away was also the first Swiss mechanical watch I owned - a black dial stainless-steel Maurice Lacroix Masterpiece Calandrier Retrograde, ref. MP6338…

Maurice Lacroix Masterpiece Clandrier Retrograde, Ref. MP6338:

I knew nothing about mechanical watches at the time, decades ago, that I purchased the Maurice Lacroix. I bought the thing because I thought it looked cool. I certainly had no idea that Maurice Lacroix was a more-or-less made-up modern brand, with no real heritage to speak of, nor that the Unitas caliber it ran on was, while time-tested and reliable, also highly commonplace. 

Yet with further exposure to fine mechanical watches, I came to find fault with the Maurice Lecroix’s derivative design cues and industrial quality finishing. More decisive of its eventual fate, however, was the failure of the retrograde date complication just after the warranty ran out. By that time, I had a couple of other watches that pleased me better, and I sold the Maurice Lacroix immediately after having it repaired.

(From the Chronoswiss web site.)

Chronoswiss Classic Lunar Chronograph, SS, Ref. CH7523 L

My first chronograph was this vintage-styled stainless-steel Chronoswiss, powered by the ubiquitous Valjoux 7550 with moon phase indication. I was drawn in by the case design, with its fluted bezel and big onion crown, and I liked that the chronograph readout included a 12-hour subdial. What I did not like was when, under no particular abuse, the chronograph hand fell off and rattled around between the dial and the case. I like it even less that following factory service, the chronograph hand fell off once more within a matter of weeks. I sold the thing immediately after the factory reattached the hand for the second time.

Dubey & Schaldenbrand Aerochrono, SS, Bracelet, Ref. 797

Oddly enough, my second chronograph also wound up being the next watch I would sell off. This watch appealed to my abiding yen for shaped cases, and while its ETA 2094 caliber was nothing to write home about, the case and dial aesthetics pleased me for a couple of years. I also appreciated house leader Cinette Robert’s being among the few Swiss maison directors at the time.* 

Not so pleasing was the watches weight, which was oddly distributed, so that it always felt unbalanced on the wrist. The mild-but-nagging discomfort of wearing the Aerochrono led to its eventual sale. (I may also at the time have become enchanted by the idea of an integrated column wheel chronograph movement, but that would not come until later.)

Jaeger LeCoultre Reverso Gran Sport Duo, Ref. 295.8.51

This was my first dual time watch and the beginning of my ongoing love affair with the Reverso. The Gran Sport Duo was purchased with the idea that my wife and I would share it. Unfortunately, we would soon learn that the only way to adjust the length of the proprietary integrated rubber strap was to trim it down to size. Moreover, replacing the strap was an ordeal, so that even if we’d obtained and cut a second strap for my wife, we’d be unlikely to switch them out. So much for sharing.

Said rubber strap also happened to be the cause of the Gran Sport Duo’s downfall in my esteem, but not because it prevented sharing. No, the rubber strap turned out to have poor durability and cracked with just over two years’ intermittent wear. Its replacement didn’t even last that long, snapping in two within a year. One final replacement strap attached, I traded the Gran Sport Duo toward my current Reverso Duoface Night & Day in white gold. 

My wife received her own Reverso Lady Ultra-Thin Duetto as a gift from me shortly thereafter. It remains one of her most frequently worn watches.

Cartier Drive de Cartier, SS, Black Dial, Ref. WSNM009

Look another shaped case! I still like the shape of the Drive de Cartier, and I’m sorry that it didn’t last very long in Cartier’s catalog. Unfortunately, I should have gone for the white dial. While striking on the wrist, the black dial wound up being utterly illegible behind a domed crystal with no apparent anti-reflective coating. If memory serves, I traded this toward the Santos de Cartier Chronograph, of which more below.

Montblanc 1858 Geosphere, SS, Blue Dial, Ref. MB125565

Another dual time watch, this one with nifty 24-hour night and day displays for the northern and southern hemispheres. I tired of this one quickly, though, as the dial and case finishing were sloppy and the build quality poor. (I remember especially the cheap-looking hands.) Sold within a year of purchase.

Panerai Radiomir 3 Days Composite Case, Ref. PAM 504

My first experiment with exotic case finishes. The wire-lug Radiomir case had appealed to me for years, and believe it or not, at 5’ 7” I was (barely) able to pull off wearing this 47mm beast  - as long as I wore short sleeves. Then again, I recall Sylvester Stallone may have been a Panerai fan, and he’s no giant either.

As it happens, this exotic case finish experiment failed. (See upper left of case above.) Alleged to be harder than steel and highly scratch-resistant, the ceramic composite treatment on the Radiomir case turned out to be a scratch magnet of the highest order. In my experience, the same goes for DLC. In fact, I’ve found neither to be much more durable than PVD in my admittedly clumsy hands. I sold the Radiomir to a loving home before the scratches rendered it completely unmarketable.

Cartier Santos de Cartier Chronograph Extra Large, SS, Ref. WSSA0017

An integrated column wheel chronograph, with what amounts to a monopusher in a shaped case? I was all over this one. I enjoyed wearing it, too. That is, until the black ADLC-treated bezel started picking up conspicuous scratches. The Santos bezel is a notorious scratch magnet in metal, and my experience tells me that color-coated treatments fare no better. In the meantime, I’d found the chronograph of my dreams in the limited edition rose gold JLC Reverso Chronographe Retrograde from the late 1990s, so parting with the Cartier wasn’t all that painful. This watch also marked the end of my interest in the-next-best-thing colored case materials.

Jaeger LeCoultre Master Memovox, SS, Ref. Q1418430

For a more painful parting, there was my stainless-steel Memovox, which functioned well, but always struck me a little bit drab stylistically. The pain was short lived, though, as the Memovox was traded toward a rose gold Breguet Classique Réveil du Tsar with a grand feu enamel dial. Bohoo!   Years later now, the uncommon JLC rose gold Memovox Timer, with a black dial and an upgraded Memovox movement visible behind a sapphire case back, is high on my acquisition list.

IWC Aquatimer Expedition Charles Darwin Edition, Bronze, Ref. IW379503

The Aquatimer was an episode in my quest for a bronze-cased watch, when I got caught up in the market enthusiasm for bronze as a case material. Functionally, this big, tough watch with an integrated flyback chrono complication was good fun. 

I just didn’t wind up wearing it that much. With its tool watch looks, its weight, and its enormous height (see above) it was wardrobe-limiting and not something I was going to wear to the office. I traded it toward my next trial of a bronze-cased chronograph. Drumroll…

Zenith Pilot Type 20 Chronograph Extra Special, Bronze, Green Dial, Ref. 29.2430.4069/63.I001

A Zenith chronograph in trendy bronze was next, with a faux-vintage grained green dial treatment and traditional pilot watch styling. This proved more wearable and versatile in everyday use than the Aquatimer, even if I couldn’t jump into a pool with it. I was happy with this Zenith until a critic somewhere commented about the disproportionately small El Premero caliber in the gigantic case, describing the chronograph registers on the dial as “cross-eyed.” I was never able to unsee that, and the watch was effectively ruined for me. I parted with it, along with my hunger for a bronze watch.

 I now own this Pilot Cronometro CP-2 with a flyback El Primero caliber – in “aged” steel, as opposed to bronze.

Seiko Presage Arita Porcelain with Power Reserve, Ref. SPB093J1

A porcelain dial on a watch with a low 4-figure price tag sounded pretty good when I went after the Arita porcelain Presage. And that dial was nice. What grated on me, though, was that the rest of the details didn’t mesh with the luxurious-looking porcelain dial surface. The handset, painted to resemble blued steel, and in my estimation, doing a poor job of it, was particularly hard for me to see around, as was the somewhat cartoonish industrial finishing on the case and movement. Call me a snob, but Grand Seiko has spoiled me for Japanese watchmaking, even if the pricing is an order of magnitude higher. This was an instance when handling the watch directly before purchase would have been helpful, even if its price seemed like a bargain at the time. I soon found myself disinclined to wear the Presage and turned it around fairly quicky.

A. Lange & Sohne 1815 Up/Down, WG, Ref. 221.025

Now we come to a few watches that were harder for me to part with. The white gold 1815 was my first ALS, and I still believe it to represent a fine entry point for anyone interested in the brand. It’s understated, beautifully finished, and eminently wearable. Moreover, by selecting among the Up/Down’s various incarnations, one can find a watch to fit any wrist. I had an early production example with case diameter of 35.9mm. What made me part with it? 

The opportunity to trade towards the ALS Cabaret in rose gold with large date on a black dial – one of my favorite watch designs of all time, and something I had long dreamed of owning. Whatever hesitations I may have had to abandoning the 1815 evaporated in the face of the Cabaret’s shaped case and movement. No regrets!

Arnold & Son 8 Days Royal Navy, SS, Blue Dial, Ref. 1EDAS.U01A.D136A

The 8 Days Royal Navy, on the other hand, is one of those whose sale I’ve come closest to regretting. Like the ALS 1815, the Royal Navy was a good entry-point to its brand. That lacquered, hand-guilloché dial, those mirror polished hands, the well-decorated partly skeletonized hand-wound movement – they all sang to me. 

The Royal Navy ultimately fell victim to two circumstances. One was the recurring feeling that I have too many watches with blue dials in my collection. Another, the clincher, was that I obtained the iconic Arnold & Sons Time Pyramid in rose gold. 

Nice as the Royal Navy was, the Time Pyramid holds a far more significant place in the evolution of the maison and to my mind represents an even finer example of Le Joux-Perret's capabilities. And let me be frank: it’s even more fun to look at.

Chopard LUC Quattro Regulator, WG, Ref. 16/1874-1001

This is another watch I debated parting with for some time. I had admired it since its initial release, probably a couple of decades ago now, but by the time I finally got hold of it, both fashion and Chopard’s design language for the LUC range had altered dramatically. As distinctive and original as the early 21^st century styling was, it could also feel anachronistic in the wearing. Kind of like parading around in bell-bottoms or a leisure suit. 

Whereas I believe the roughly contemporaneous ALS Cabaret has aged magnificently, my early enthusiasm for this piece was not sustained once I owned it. After a few years, I traded the Quattro Regulator toward a more recent LUC reference.                  

Parmigiani Kalpa Forma Grande, SS, Blue Dial, Bracelet, Ref. PF006803

Another shaped watch I found hard to resist. I absolutely adore the Parmigiani Kalpa case and the bracelets on the Kalpa line are perhaps my favorites of all time. What I really aspired to, though, was the hand-wound Kalpa XL Hebdomadaire, but the automatic reference was far more obtainable for me at the time, and so that’s what I sprang for. 

A cool watch, no doubt, but I really, really prefer shaped movements in my shaped watches, and when a stainless-steel Hebdomadaire, with its shaped hand-wound manufacture movement, bracelet, and champagne dial, popped up at a good price, I sold the automatic to help fund it without a second thought.

Breguet Classique 5907, RG, Guilloché Dial

This was another no-brainer trade. I love the hand-turned guilloché work on Breguet’s silver-plated gold dials, but nice as this Breguet reference is, it was an easy decision to trade it towards the exquisite and uncommon yellow gold hand-wound extra-thin Classique Art Deco Damier 5967. I didn’t even blink at this trade. 

The 5907 may be a great watch, but the 5967 is sublime.

Grand Seiko Evolution 9 ‘Shirakaba’ or ‘White Birch’ Hi-Beat, Ref. SLGH005

What, am I nuts? Who would trade in the White Birch Hi-Beat, which attained classic status virtually the day that it was launched? Me, it turns out. Here’s the deal: the SLGH005 is a knockout, potentially displacing even the GS Snowflake as a brand icon. Indeed, I purchased mine at a local AD mere months after its initial release.

But, but, I’ve had an itsy-bitsy quibble with the White Birch since I laid eyes on it: it just isn’t actually white. The finish on the textured dial is brightly metallic, and while undeniably captivating, it’s also just a mite too metallic for my tastes. While I dithered a bit at the choice, after owning the White Birch for a few years, I traded it towards its less-heralded and less-common sibling: the SLGH017 ‘Night Birch’.  

Same superb Hi-Beat caliber, same dial texture, yet with its anthracite-colored dial and titanium case, the SLGH017 is at once more understated and somehow more hypnotic in its appeal. I realize very few would make this choice, but then I’ve rarely been one to follow the herd. When I have, in terms of watch purchasing, I’ve found myself selling or trading things away, as per my flirtation with the previous decade’s bronze-cased watch trend.

In Parting

So, there you have it: one naïve and casual collector/enthusiast’s dearly departed watches: a reflection of evolving tastes, increasing insight, and plain old caprice over the course of about three decades. If I haven’t bored you to tears yet, and you’re still reading, what are some of you dearly departed watches, and what do they say about your evolution as a lover of watches?

* Apparently, Cinette Robert was also left-handed, which led to Dubey & Schaldenbrand releasing quite a few left-handed references, with crowns positioned at 9 o’clock on the caseband. My wife, being a southpaw, is hence the owner of two early 21^st century Dubey & Schaldenbrand watches, both gifts from me, and both worn with great frequency.