I don’t read many “State of the Collection” (SOTC) posts or watch those videos. When one plays on my YouTube feed it is usually because I dozed off watching a video on the history of the Lakota Sioux, the Seleucids, or Appalachian geography. (If I ever get to run this simulation again, I might wind up as a botanist, archaeologist, or geologist. If it requires an “A” in Trigonometry, I will be a lawyer again.) SOTC content is usually as interesting as a co-worker describing the guiding philosophy of his latest Fantasy Football draft. (“For my kicker I was looking for an offense that stalled in the Red Zone and would give the placekicker more field goal attempts than extra points…”) You get pictures of watch boxes and brief descriptions of watches shorn of any context. People try to imbue the watches with “meaning”. They like the Timex Expedition because they like “adventure” or something. This Frederique Constant is “special” because of the birth of a child, because that is rational and appropriate. Yes, that luxury purchase for yourself is naturally imbued with meaning because a completely unrelated event occurred. Keep telling yourself that.
The draw to creators of the SOTC content lies in the explanation, sometimes a justification, of decisions made. The long view, with the distance of a conveniently arbitrary measure of time: the year, can give the creator some insight into themselves. An interesting collector makes interesting decisions. The rest of us should just take a pass on the navel gazing. “I like orange dialed watches,” is not worth a ten-minute video. Which “luxury watch that I received at a deep discount from my AD I wore most this year” video by our favorite talking heads is just as meaningless. (Less Rolex this year, an improvement? No, it was too much of a joke last year. They still all wore their favorite Rolex and told you something different.) This may be the year that my watch content consumption craters. Certain creators are only worth a “hate watch”, others are stuck on repeat. Maybe watches aren’t inherently interesting forever.
I have written here before that when you eventually obtain the watches that you are pursuing, that a certain drift occurs. How many and what type watches you require in your assemblage is up to you. I do that “vintage” thing, where the research into the watch brand and model is half of the fun. Some folks need an array of desk divers, some need the integrated bracelet GADA.
My drift has nevertheless caused me to buy fifteen watches this year, more than in the past few years. I have sold some, but the balance has trended towards accumulation. I sometimes, often, buy watches that no one wants. Here is an example:
Probably a jewelry store brand from the 1930’s with an A. Schild under jeweled movement. But here it is in my “collection”. It was purchased for less than a Bud Light at a bar or restaurant. (Why would you do that? Ordering a Bud Light, I mean. Keeping culture wars out of it, there are much better options.) I have a higher percentage of non-round cased watches than most. Many of these new to me watches continue that trend. A sheriff’s deputy assigned to courtroom security asked me about my watch this week (it was a trial week). It was an old square Gruen. He noted that I had worn square watches all week. This is the sort of interaction that collectors wish would happen every day. Turns out he has twice as many watches as I do. They are out there…
Like the dog that caught the car, I got my Glycine Vacuum this year. It has been shipped off to South Africa because it is unwearable in its current state. It is not uncommon for me to not be able to wear a watch for as long as a year after purchase. I take on projects that I can’t do myself. I also bought a mechanical chronograph after pondering the decision for months. Thought it would be a quartz Dan Henry and wound up with a Sea-Gull 1963. I have simple tastes. I already have plenty of unicorns.
About mid-year I started contemplating the concept of the vintage GADA watch. This thinking incorporates the caveat that all watches until the late 1960’s were “go anywhere, do anything”. They were worn for all occasions. Bond wearing a sub only had significance to watch nerds years later. His Gruen and Submariner were interchangeable for most occasions. My GADA definition involved a dark dial, an automatic movement, bracelet, and no date. I settled on a Bulova Jet Clipper after missing on too many Midnight Clipper auctions. Again, another project with my watchmaker. It was only after it arrived that I realized that its second hand was missing. Can’t have that. He has it with my white dialed Favre-Leuba Harpoon that will be my GADA twins eventually, I hope. Only with these watches will I finally be free from my earthly shackles. I will go anywhere and do anything. Watches are passports to adventure and freedom. They are your tickets for the carnival ride of life. Don’t leave home without one.
My end of year confession is this: my most worn watch for 2025, not my most photographed watch, is a modern dark dialed three-hander without date, on a steel bracelet, with an automatic movement. It has a screw down crown and 100 meters of water resistance. Maybe I have too many boxes of vintage watches. Maybe all watch content creators are really creating fiction. At least I know how to pronounce “Bulova”.
The Escapement Room 