The past decade or so has seen a number of companies, notably Bulgari, Piaget, and Richard Mille, engaged in a kind of race to the bottom to produce the thinnest mechanical wristwatch, with some models that appear to have garnered good press and apparent popularity. I thought I’d take a look at some very thin mechanical watches from three different makers, which I happen to own. Each employs very different technical means to attain its slenderness, and each expresses its own very distinctive style. In addition, I’ve added two watches which, while not marketed by their makers as extra-thin or ultra-thin, are notably svelte on the wrist and powered by very thin movements.
A few caveats: I have no watchmaking expertise, and I would not consider myself any kind of “serious” collector. I also have no particular knowledge of watch history, other than that gleaned from general reading and following mechanical watches for about three decades or more. In this particular context, am I not overly concerned with the minutiae (pardon the pun!) of timekeeping accuracy, nor with the criteria for labeling a watch as extra-thin or ultra-thin. I’ll leave all of that to others. The first three watches under consideration are/were all described as extra-thin or ultra-thin by their makers, and all are between 4 and 7 millimeters in thickness. The two “extras” both measure 7.5mm deep, making them thinner than many entries in, say, the Jaeger-LeCoultre Master Ultra-Thin collection.
First up, and oldest of the lot, is the Breguet Classique Ref. 5967 from 2009, with an “Art Deco Damier” hand-guilloché dial and yellow gold case. Though no longer extraordinarily thin by today’s standards at 6.95mm, the 41mm diameter leaves this watch looking quite slender indeed. It certainly slips under a buttoned cuff with ease, as befits a traditional time-only precious metal dress watch. The case is pure Breguet Classique, with polished surfaces, a cold-rolled fluted caseband, and straight soldered-on lugs. What makes this watch so special, however, is the dial. Breguet is of course well-known for its hand-guilloché silver-plated gold dials, but this one is something else. Instead of traditional clous-de-Paris or grain d’orge, the 5967 sports a tromp l’oeil checkerboard (“damier”) pattern that appears to shift in perspective with the viewing angle in the manner of an Escher engraving. Roman numerals are printed on a brushed chapter ring, which is micro-engraved with the Breguet “secret signature” on either side of 12 o’clock and surrounded by a dotted minute track, itself bordered inside and out by tiny, raised metal beads. Long, elegant, blued steel Breguet hour and minute hands complete the composition.
(Photo: Wannabuyawatch?)
For those wondering at the 5967’s 41mm diameter, the dimension is more-or-less necessitated by the movement. You see, the 5967 achieves its slender profile by employing the 36mm x 1.9mm caliber 506.2, derived from the extra-thin Frédéric Piguet manual wind pocket watch movement caliber 15. The movement’s fine finishing is visible through a sapphire window which, happily, occupies almost the entire case back. Caliber 506.2 contains 20 jewels, beats at 21,600 vph, and has a 40 hour power reserve. It is decorated with diagonal côtes de Genève on the bridges, perlage on the main plate, and a large, engraved sweeping cursive “Breguet” signature. The bridges are chamfered and the visible jewels and brightly polished screws are countersunk into chamfered recesses. As typical for a watch of this style, water resistance is rated at 3 ATM. The design language and construction of the 5967 don’t make it a watch I would wear to the gym or the poolside in any case, but for those who can pull off its size on their wrist, the Classique Art Deco Damier offers an extremely elegant, understated, yet distinctive dress watch option. I love it.
Next up: the Bulgari Octo Finissimo Automatic in sandblasted stainless steel, introduced in 2018 (following the initial titanium model) and coming in at an impressive 5.15mm. (More recent steel models with water resistance increased from 3ATM to 10ATM are ever-so-slightly thicker at 5.25mm.) Like the Breguet, the Octo Finissimo is, at 40mm, rather broad in comparison to its depth and can read even larger on the wrist due to its square proportions. That said, the elegantly thin integrated bracelet is extremely flexible and comfortable, and the way it hugs the wrist makes for a better visual fit than one might expect, based on the numerical measurements.
As with the Breguet, the Octo Finissimo’s exterior dimensions are dictated by the movement, which again fills the case back at 36.6mm x 2.23mm. At the time of initial release, the Bulgari caliber BVL 138 was the thinnest automatic winding movement in serial production. Bulgari’s strategy for achieving thinness appears to have included as horizontal a layout of mechanical components as possible – hence the BVL 138’s diameter (and perhaps the idiosyncratic placement of the subsidiary seconds at 7 o’clock, as well). As with many earlier extra-flat or ultra-flat automatic movements form other houses, Bulgari also used a micro-rotor sunken flush into the plane of the bridges to conserve vertical space.
(Photo: Watchfinder & Co.)
This micro-rotor is quite small, but it is composed of platinum, presumably in order to make up some of the inertia that might be compromised by its diameter. About 15 of the BVL 138’s 36 jewels are visible through the exhibition case back, set, like the brightly polished screws, in beveled counterbores. Relatively narrow, vertically running côtes de Genève decorates the bridges, while the very small section of main plate visible behind the micro-rotor is engraved with the tiniest of perlage. Edges are beveled and polished, enlivening the appearance of the movement. The BVL 138 beats at the same 21,600 vph as the Breguet 506.2, but Bulgari has managed to eke an impressive 60 hours of power reserve out of the self-winding movement.
Design-wise, I find the Octo Finissimo collection especially fascinating. The complex Octo case geometry originated with Gerald Genta, first peaking, as I recall, close to the time when his eponymous brand was acquired by Bulgari. Those original Octo cases were chunky and visually heavy. Moreover, they often housed complicated movements with retrograde indications and/or digital jumping hours on extremely busy dials executed in harsh colors. Not to put too fine a point on it, those watches were, to my eyes, butt ugly. At the time, they felt like some of the more garish expressions of an aesthetic that would overtake LVMH’s watch brands in the mid-to-late aughts, from Hublot under Bivet to Zenith under Thierry Nataf. I’ve got to say that nothing about them prepared me for their eventual evolution into the unerringly elegant Octo Finissimo.
(Photo: Christies)
(Photo: Chrontext)
As a retired design professional myself, it remains a wonder to me that Bulgari’s design team, under Fabrizio Buonamassa, saw the potential buried deep within Genta’s original concept. (I will here admit to the heresy that I’ve never had much interest in the bulk of Genta’s design work. Besides what would eventually emerge as the Octo Finissimo in other hands, only the early Royal Oaks among the “classic” integrated bracelet steel-cased luxury sport watches have ever done anything for me, and even so, not enough to make me pay the absurd prices they now demand. There: I’ve said it. Burn me in effigy if you must.)
Who knew that flattening all of those planes and angles, radically simplifying the dials, and clothing all in more-or-less uniform materials and finishes would transform the watch equivalent of a tricked out monster truck into the sleek perfection of an horological Concorde jet? In any case, based on the number of complicated variants and ongoing expansion of materials and finishes, it would appear that the Octo Finissimo collection is a commercial success. It has certainly transformed my opinion of Bulgari as a serious player in the mechanical watch industry.
Another point of interest for me is the niche that the Octo Finissimo has come to occupy in the marketplace, where I see it discussed as a contender in the now-crowded integrated bracelet sports watch field. I mentioned earlier that a short way into its run, the Octo Finissimo Automatic was tweaked to enhance water resistance. Before Bulgari (re)positioned the line with that move, it wasn’t clear that the collection was conceived as an answer to the Royal Oak, the Nautilus, the Overseas, or the IWC Ingenieur – despite the common Genta heritage. Indeed, the very earliest Octo Finissimo releases - the manual wind and tourbillion - were offered on reptile straps, the bracelets having emerged as an alternative with the Octo Finissimo Automatic in titanium shortly thereafter, I believe. At this juncture it’s also worth mentioning that the early Gerald Genta steel sports watches from Audemars Piguet and Patek Philippe themselves housed extra-flat automatic movements, either in-house or based on JLC calibers. Regardless of its design history and eventual market niche, I think that the Octo Finissimo Automatic in steel (or titanium) offers a fantastic bargain (along with Chopard’s Alpine Eagle and the Cartier Santos de Cartier) for those who enjoy the integrated bracelet sports watch aesthetic.
While the Octo Finissimo was the flattest automatic wristwatch on the market at its release, its position was soon overtaken by the 4.3mm thick Piaget Altiplano Ultimate Automatic, which represents a strongly contrasting style and adopts an entirely different strategy for vertical compression. Whereas Bulgari turned (terrible pun!) to the relatively long-established recessed micro-rotor, Piaget adopted the more novel approach of a hubless peripheral rotor to power its movement without breaking the plane of the wheels and bridges.
(Photo: MyWatchSite)
Piaget, as past masters of ultra-thin watchmaking, had already executed an innovative strategy for trimming down in the original manual-wind Altiplano 900P by doing away with the main plate altogether, and instead affixing the movement directly to the case back. Sacrificing a display window on the case back was no loss, as the entire partially skeletonized caliber is visible from the front of the watch, where it can be seen to wrap gracefully around the off-center dial recessed into the same plane as the mechanical components. The entire composition is an exquisite expression of function through form, completely undisturbed by the addition of the narrow peripheral rotor to make the caliber 910P that powers the Altiplano ultimate automatic. Adding the peripheral rotor of course adds some diameter, so whereas the manual-wind Altiplano 900P measures 38mm across, the Ultimate Automatic comes in at 41mm.
(Photo: MyWatchSite)
When your exposed movement occupies half or more of the “dial” real estate, finishing is important. Given that few of the stationary components show much surface area, I think it was wise of Piaget to keep decoration to a very fine radial brushed pattern. On the other hand, the beveled and highly polished edges on the intricate bridges glitter like jewels in direct lighting, to very appealing effect. On the rose gold model I own, the silver-colored dial to the upper left of the movement is decorated with a subtle sunburst pattern and surrounded by a broad black chapter ring divided by very slender rose gold baton indices. Narrow rose gold stick hands are an apt extension of the overall restraint that characterizes the Altiplano Ultimate Automatic design.
(Photo: MyWatchSite)
In common with the Breguet and Bulgari movements, caliber 910P beats at 21,600 vph. It contains 238 components with 30 jewels and delivers a reported power reserve of 40 hours from its single spring barrel. On the flipside, the solid gold case back is decorated with a very pretty engraving of the elaborate Piaget logo. This is a stratagem I wish more companies would consider, rather than exposing indifferently finished movements or calibers out of proportion to their cases. (Are you listening, Hermès?) As an apparent result of its peculiar construction, Piaget reports water resistance of only 2 ATM for the Altiplano Ultimate Automatic, but then again, this is a precious metal dress watch, and certainly not something I’d be wearing during athletic activities or while washing dishes. However, when worn with business or formal attire, this Piaget has garnered considerable attention for its highly distinctive and captivating style.
I mentioned earlier that some of the iconic integrated bracelet sports watches have boasted extra-thin movements, though that has not necessarily been central to their appeal. I happen to own and enjoy a couple of exceptionally well-designed watches that while not marketed or generally discussed as extra-thin, do measure only slightly taller than the Breguet Art Deco Damier and contain movements originally designated as extra-thin.
First of these is the limited edition Cartier Santos-Dumont XL in steel with a rose gold bezel and dial, measuring 7.5mm in thickness and housing the manual winding caliber 430 MC – none other than the 2.5mm tall Piaget 430P in Cartier garb. This movement is quite a bit smaller than the Santos-Dumont XL case (33.9mm x 46.6mm, including lugs), and Cartier wisely chose a solid case back, in this instance attractively engraved with a drawing of an early Santos-Dumont aircraft. Worn, unlike the thicker and sportier Santos de Cartier, on a leather strap with conventional spring bars, this Santos-Dumont is more well-dressed than knock around in, though I find it adapts as easily to jeans and a polo shirt as to business attire.
(Photo: Urdelar)
While the lug-to-lug dimensions sound large, the downwardly curved lugs wrap snugly around the wrist, while the slender case rides far more discretely than its actual size might suggest. As an offshoot of one of the earliest men’s wristwatch designs and a quintessential embodiment of Cartier’s refined shaped watch aesthetics, this Santos-Dumont is a joy to wear.
Speaking of shaped watches, my other subject here boasts one of the most elaborate and distinctive shaped cases in modern watch history. I’m speaking of the early production Roger Dubuis Sympathie S34. The baroque curves and angles of the rose or white gold case have one forgetting that the Sympathie S34 is powered by an elaborately and painstakingly decorated and reworked adaptation of the extra-thin Longines caliber L990, regulated to chronometer standards and adorned with the Geneva Seal in the guise of Roger Dubuis caliber RD57. At 25.6mm x 2.95mm, this automatic movement is ideally scaled to the width of the Sympathie S34 case. It also keeps the case appealingly slender – very important lest the watch’s idiosyncratic shape render it excessively chunky looking. The early time-only S34s were released in a number of dial variations, each in an edition of 28(!), with details in the papers handwritten by Roger Dubuis or whichever one of the very few watchmakers the company employed at the time hand assembled the watch. The first few production runs of the Sympathie collection featured sapphire crystals that followed the elaborate outline of the case. These apparently proved prohibitive to manufacture (much less replace) and were soon abandoned in favor of conventional round crystals, which, while more practical, always seemed to me to be awkwardly at odds with the rest of the watch.
(Photo: EWC)
The Roger Dubuis watches from the 90s and the very early aughts dazzled me when they first came out, and there are few developments in the world of mechanical watches that sadden me more than the eventual fate of the Roger Dubuis company under Carlos Diaz and then Richemont. (Don’t get me started.) Does anybody make watches quite like the Sympathie anymore?
I lusted after a time-only Sympathie for decades, eventually to find an S34 575 in rose gold with a white lacquer dial and applied polished rose gold numerals and indices – in a full set, to boot. It remains one of my “desert island” watches, and I only hope I can keep that well-nigh irreplaceable crystal intact. So much do I enjoy this watch, and so adaptable to wrist size is it, that when a white gold and black lacquer S37 “twin” appeared on the market not long ago, I snatched it up as a gift for my wife. Needless to say, she’s been delighted with it.
So there you have it, three extra-thin to ultra-thin watches, their slender proportions achieved through very different means, plus two arguably iconic designs that also use extra-thin calibers, though without their makers having called attention to the fact. The Piaget Altiplano Ultimate Automatic and the Bulgari Octo Finissimo Automatic have since their introduction been outdistanced in the ongoing race for slimness several times over, sometimes by their own houses, sometimes not. That does not diminish the elegance with which their thinness is achieved and expressed in design terms, the latter something they share with the Breguet 5967.
Anybody out there have a favorite extra-thin or ultra-thin watch they want to share? There are certainly plenty more out there from Vacheron Constantin, JLC, Patek Philippe, Richard Mille, et alia. In the meantime, thanks for looking!





