The Collecting Arc a.k.a. The 14 Stages of Grief—Er, Watch Collecting

Before the days of disposable timepieces, watches were made to last decades. But few things we collect are such an important – perhaps intimate is a better word – part of our lives. And for many men, a watch is the only accoutrement other than a wedding ring worn next to the skin every day.

For me, my interest in watches caught fire at an early age, sparked by seeing my dad’s Rolex Oyster Perpetual with Jubilee bracelet every night on his desk with his wallet and car keys. My dad was given his watch by my grandfather in 1963. Whether my father was at the office, sitting down to dinner, or enjoying the weekend, that watch was on his wrist. It was, I felt, as unique to him as his fingerprints.

Reflecting on what drives our passion for watches, it’s helpful to think about how our collections began, where they are now, and how we got here. My collection and knowledge have grown in tandem over the years, but in many ways, my interests now are right back where they started.
 

I call this journey the “Collecting Arc.”

Just as I retrace the steps I took, reminiscing at every turn about the rationale – calling it “logic” isn’t quite right – that led me to collect this or that timepiece, you might find it worthwhile as well to look back at your own arc to see if any common themes reveal themselves. And given my fascination with my father’s watch – and with the collecting gene woven tightly into my DNA – my collector’s journey, I now recognize, was plotted early.

It unfolded in a series of distinct stages.

Anyone who started collecting watches at a relatively young age knows the overriding factors in the decision were twofold: First, did it look cool? And second, was it affordable? However, this was before the internet, of course.

There were no watch forums; there were pawn shops. And I figured the conventional wisdom was that it was always a good idea to have an everyday watch and a dress watch. So, in addition to a Seiko, I found an inexpensive Curvex.
 

Then it happens: Someone shows you a vintage watch, perhaps a Rolex, and for the first time, you take notice. Questions swirl.

Looking at the new Submariner on my wrist, I couldn’t even begin to imagine how my modern Sub – with its sapphire crystal, unidirectional bezel, and increased depth rating – would not obviously command a higher price than the aged model.

After all, why should I pay more for a watch that doesn’t even glow in the dark anymore? The improved movement alone should make a newer watch worth more. Yes?
 

When in doubt, get some perspective from trusted, respected collectors. Rather than being points of concern, the collectors informed me, the unique quirks of a watch should be celebrated and embraced.

I was beginning to understand that the patina on the dial, the faded insert, and the surface wear on the case were what made my watch special, one of a kind. And so, instead of wasting time, I now visited watch forums and interacted with like-minded collectors.
 

Watch dealers laud the beauty of an unpolished watch case. The collecting community takes notice, and another theme emerges on the watch forums: A great watch starts (but doesn’t end) with a great dial.

Additionally, two words to describe the sharpness of a case work their way into the watch-enthusiast lexicon: chamfer and bevel. Collectors are nothing if not obsessive-compulsive, though, so chamfer comes to take precedence.

So, wanting to keep pace with this unpolished-case movement, I began to look for watches with fat cases and sharp, well-defined chamfers and lug holes. Always good to get a view of the watch from the case-back side to check for lug thickness, I reasoned.
 

After talking to collectors more knowledgeable than myself, I realized that when you decide to collect vintage Rolex, you need to understand that things don’t always fit into neat little boxes.

Over the years, Rolex made numerous improvements. There was often a transition period during which it introduced newer parts in some watches while fitting others with existing stock. And clearly, the rules I’d been following regarding serial number ranges, dials, inserts, and bracelets should be viewed more as guidelines that permit a degree of flexibility in determining the period correctness of a watch.

So, when a great 5513 Maxi Mk1 became available, I was initially concerned that the serial number was a bit “late” for a Mk1 dial. Thinking of guidelines rather than rules helped me move forward with the purchase.
 

“Just how many watches do you need?” a little voice inside my head kept asking. Certainly more than one, I reasoned. After all, I have two wrists. But the voice replied: “Trust me, you have a lot more than two watches.”

As it turned out, the voice was not in my head. It belonged to my wife, and she offered me some good advice: I can’t own them all. She was right, of course. So it was time to sell a few so I could add another. Some great watches went to a happy new home, and I was able to add a gilt/gloss 1675 GMT to my holdings.
 

I attended a GTG recently and was thrilled to see a collection of chronographs from CWC, Hamilton, and Gallet. The military-issue pilot chronographs with fixed lug bars, issue numbers on the caseback, and circled T on the dial really appealed to me, as did the Gallet with its well-preserved two-register dial and beautiful case.

These watches had a really cool look. Plus, compared to vintage Rolex, they were pretty affordable, so I bought one of each. And that’s when it occurred to me: I was back where I had started, buying cool-looking, affordable watches. My “Collecting Arc” had come full circle, as it were.