Every collector has their quirks. I have many. More than most? I’ll let you decide. For one, I don’t like to call myself a collector. I typically consider myself a “user”, and refer to my accumulation of watches not as my collection but as “my set”. To explain why, and all the rest, I’ll take you over the next paragraphs on a journey inside the most confused part of my brain.
Heads up: the photos here are not all from my current “set”, but rather pieces that have come and gone over the years – a few of which are still with me.
How it all started
I often describe the beginning of my passion for mechanical watches as “being the worst business developer in the world”. Working for a tech company, my job was to reach out to Swiss watch brands to show them our smartwatch operating system and discuss collaboration opportunities. Back then, I had no interest in watches, and I could have been sent to visit tire, screw or ventilation companies with the same level of enthusiasm. In all fairness, things actually did work out on the business front, resulting in many fruitful smartwatch partnerships. Still, I can say that I was “flipped”. As my Swiss interlocutors took me on courtesy visits of their production sites, I was stunned. Beyond the object itself, or the often irritating (to me) marketing glitz, I discovered the incredible amount of human input that went into the conception and production of each watch: relentless design, prototyping, assembly, testing, engineering and craftsmanship all performed by “normal people” like me, not sweatshop slaves or overpriced divas. I found something very soothing and touching in that aspect and suddenly never looked at a mechanical Swiss watch in the same way.
Why I am not, or at least was not, a collector
To say this in contemporary terms, despite owning ten or so watches, I don’t identify as a collector. That’s because for the most part of my journey, watches would come “in and out”. While I would obsess over them prior to acquisition, and honeymoon like there was no tomorrow once on my wrist, I as easily let them go when another one was on the horizon. The churn was intense. Over the years, I went through probably 150 watches from brands as diverse as Rolex, Seiko, Omega, Casio, Breguet, Swatch, Girard-Perregaux, Jaeger-LeCoultre, Mido, Vulcain, Citizen, Lip, Breitling, Farer, TAG Heuer, Glycine, Tissot, Hamilton, Panerai, Longines and Milus, to name a few. And yet, I never had more than 12 or so at any give time in my collection – sorry, my set.
There were three reasons to this intensive rotation. One, of course, is finances. I often needed to sell one to afford the next. But there was more than that. One factor is my compulsive minimalism. I hate to own too much stuff. Perhaps because I’ve changed homes so many times (as in, in the dozens), I always feel the need to be “three suitcases away” from my next place. Having more watches than can fit in a 12-watch box would be overwhelming by my book. Another reason for the extensive churn was simply developing my taste. I’ve generally formed my opinions in life by doing – and failing – rather than just taking other people’s word, or my own remote interpretation, at face value. Now, having tried not only so many brands but also materials (steel, titanium, gold, carbon) complications (day-date, moonphase, minute repeater, flyback) and eras (1930s, 50s, 60s, 2024), I am finally getting a sense of what I really want. As a result, while there’s still some movement, the set is much more stable. One might even refer to it as a “collection”.
Failure at one, or even two-watch-guyness
As a logical corollary to my minalism, I often dreamt of being a one watch guy. I almost pulled it off, at one point, with the Speedmaster my wife gave me. The Bienne watch par excellence is the one I care about the most. I identify so much with its vibe that it’s even at the center of the plot of a little piece of fiction I wrote about a watch collector. Ultimately, what made my efforts fail is that as a weekday watch, I first-world-problem “need” a few things the hesalite Speedy in its caliber 1861 variant simply cannot provide: a date, which I almost use more for work that the actual time; chronometric precision (I highly depend on trains); and finally more water resistance (I like to shower with the watch on during the morning rush). Because the Datejust is perfect for that and, alongside the Speedy, forms a perfect Bienne duo, I could have at least stopped there, right?
Well, not quite. Some watches were gifts, they have sentimental value (on top of being great watches). Some others are just too interesting, to me at least. The Longines VHP, for instance. A quartz, yes, and the most accurate Swiss watch ever made, including a perpetual calendar and, at least on the one I have, a seconds hand perfectly landing on the indices. Another example in my set is an Eterna alarm watch, made in 2016 with a half a century old movement the brand found in its archives: 70 movements were found, and 70 watches made.
The compulsive need for a “purpose” in each watch
Despite my attraction to (way) more than one watch, I still have the urge to rationalize – or pretend to rationalize – the set / collection. To do so, I need for every watch to have a use case, a purpose. Daily workday, weekend at home, beater, water, vacation travel, work travel, formal dress, you name it, I’ve attributed a role to each of the ten-ish watches I own. While the list of use cases has had some variability over time, generally, when a new tentation arises, it has competition. It needs to earn its spot, replacing an incumbent. Sure, my ability to BS myself is pretty high when it comes to watches, but the approach has definitely helped keep the collection – sorry, the set – if not stable, at least contained in volume.
Economics
When it comes to watches, the topic of money is never far. It’s no exception in my head. But once more, my approach seems a bit more twisted than most fellow watch nerds I know.
First, there’s the guilt. I’ve lived for eight years in Senegal, meaning that I actually know a lot of people who earn less in a couple of months than I’ve already paid for a deployant clasp. Any amount I spend on watches I automatically convert in my head into how it could be used out there. Sure, we all know there are people in great need, but when they’re your friends, it feels different. Such a personal background has organically kept me relatively reasonable in terms of how much I’m comfortable spending on watches.
The counter-argument to such an approach is the investment value. When money in a watch is effectively money aside or – even better – future exponential value, then it’s not (just) about indulging in selfish pleasure. It’s a rational use of money. My issue here is that I don’t like having to worry about objects. When I had at one point “investment-worthy” watches, I derived more stress than pleasure from them. Worrying about leaving them around the house, being afraid to knock them, dealing with the hassle of going back and forth to the safe, filing insurance paperwork. I eventually decided to not own watches of more value than – sentiment aside – I can afford to lose. While I’m very good at finding other things to worry about, this approach has made me a lot more relaxed on the watch front.
Cheap thrills
As my collection – fine, let’s call it that – has become increasingly stable, I still can’t resist a good ol’ watch hunt, especially given all the temptations in Bienne, as I’ve written about before.
To avoid anything dramatic in terms of the “role play” or finances, I’ve started to enjoy flings with (relatively) inexpensive but interesting finds. For a few hundred Swiss francs, there’s a lot of fun to be had, especially when it comes to vintage but also – a Bienne speciality – recent watches from employee sales that often end up on the local secondary market. It’s rare that I keep such watches for a very long time, but when they can’t be resold at cost, they make for a painless trade-in or a great gift. Longines, Mido, Oris, Certina or (some vintage) Omega are usual suspects in that group.
Heirloom
A well known excuse among us watch people with kids is justifying an acquisition as a heirloom piece. I used to curate my collection with that approach in mind. Each kid had a designated watch for after me, and, depending on the day, sometimes even a mini collection. I eventually gave up on that entirely. First, I’m not sure I wish them to love watches as much as I do. That’s another whole debate but let’s say that I want to leave them memories of my passion for watches more than I want them to inherit the obsession. I’m also worried a watch I wore could come with some burden: maybe not their taste, fear of damaging or losing it, and not running at the best contemporary specs. So I decided instead to gift them each an excellent watch, of their choice within the chosen range, for their 18th birthday. That will give it sentimental value, a reminder of their father’s passion, but also make it truly theirs. Who knows, maybe one of them will even be super lucky and end up as a one-watch-guy?
Great read. Would be interesting to know which watch you most regret selling and what’s next on your radar?