If you have ever wondered just how many oreo-sized financial mistakes I keep on hand at one time, today is your lucky day.
I have missed our conversations, you know. Long walks on the beach, candle lit dinners, the whole works. You complete me, gentle reader, and so we come together once again for another rousing horological discussion.
You know, over my lifespan I have bought and sold an amount of watches. That is a factual statement and I will not elaborate further. What I can elaborate on, however, is the watches that comprise my current collection and how I individually think about each of them.
When it comes to my approach, I certainly lean towards the “enthusiast” label versus considering myself a true collector. I always have a pair of two core watches; the supporting cast comes and goes with the tides. Too many watches gives me anxiety, so dusty clocks get jettisoned before too long. The same goes for time keepers that I buy but don’t click with right away; I know immediately when it isn’t a good fit, and they too can be sent packing without hesitation. Life can be fleeting for a watch in my rotation.
Addressing the topic of style: I have owned most types minus grand complications, which are… cost prohibitive, to put it mildly. My clear favorites are the GMTs; their ability to track multiple time zones, coupled with typically robust water resistance, make them practical candidates for both daily driving and traveling. My severe GMT addiction is reflected in the blueprint of my collection, as I currently own four and am happy to add more when it makes sense.
In a previous life, my greatest love was the chronograph – I maintain that the most legendary watches have all been chronographs, and we have hard evidence of that between Newman, Rindt, Clapton and many others. Chronographs remain a close runner-up in my book, but their lack of durability and perceived fragility has unfortunately created distance between us in recent years. G-Shock aside, I own no traditional chronographs at this time.
As indicated by the title, this particular blog post is dedicated to the survivors of my chaotic purges, the valiant and dauntless few (although we’ll touch on the dearly departed as well). They’re all unique and run the gamut in terms of style and price. Let’s go meet the team, shall we?
1994 Rolex “Pepsi” GMT-Master II ref. 16710
When I first got into not saving for retirement, there were two watches that I considered “watches of destiny,” or models that had absolutely captured the fullness of my imagination. The first was a panda dial Omega Speedmaster. The second? A Rolex Pepsi GMT-Master of vintage or neo-vintage inspiration.
That aforementioned Speedmaster was the first serious watch I purchased, with the Pepsi joining it much later in 2022. The Pepsi is everything I want in a GADA (“Go Anywhere Do Anything”) watch – robust, colorful, a useful complication and versatile enough to work with either swimming trunks or a suit. The proportions of this watch as a five digit serial Rolex are also perfect for my wrist. I hold the opinion that you can’t quite appreciate what a properly sized watch really means for you as an individual until you’ve stumbled into owning it. For me, I found that in the Pepsi.
True to Rolex’s previous century marketing ethos, I don’t baby this thing. It does it all – skiing, motorcycle riding, swimming, household chores, etc. Sure, an older four digit serial GMT-Master will produce a more vibrant bezel and patinated dial. You’ll have to be satisfied with simple trips to Trader Joe’s, however. The ref. 16710 inspires confidence and can handle sustained punishment.
I always envisioned that I would ride off into the sunset with both watches and a lifetime of associated memories. Unfortunately, the Pepsi was too successful in capturing my heart, and it turned the Speedmaster into an expensive paperweight. More on that Speedy later, but in its absence the Pepsi has become my go-to companion. I adore this watch, and the fact that it is a birth year model makes it all the more special to me. If there could only be one, this would be it.
Go here for my full review on this era in the GMT-Master’s history.
Tudor Pelagos 39
Historically, I have struggled with dive watches due to what I perceive as formulaic tendencies in a highly homogenous and saturated category. That isn’t a fair characterization when you look at options like Doxa or Blancpain, but my brain has always treated divers with boring apathy.
I finally bucked that train of thought in 2023 with the acquisition of a Pelagos 39 from the Tudor boutique in Atlanta (this being the first time I have ever purchased new from an A.D.). Similar to the Pepsi, you can read about my entire laundry list of opinions here. Spoiler: this one is a winner. The glossy dial and sunburst-finish bezel? Swoon. Don’t even get me started on that throwback Submariner red text.
To circle back to my objections towards divers, I don’t think the Pelagos 39 does anything revolutionary and its design language is conservative. Sometimes a watch just clicks for you, however, and that is what happened to me. Details, details, details: in watches, they are always evaluated subjectively, but there’s no arguing with taste.
Full stop, having both the Pepsi and the P39 does create an element of redundancy (given how much corporate DNA they share). The Pelagos 39 is certainly a 1B-type challenger to the Pepsi’s 1A status. Not that you need to spend $3,500 – $5,000 on a beater for mundane tasks, but there’s certainly an underlying “workhorse” quotient to this watch. It strikes me as the diver we might wear today in an equivalent fashion to how Rolex’s Submariner was utilized prior to its cultural elevation as a luxury icon.
Awkward closet skeleton reveal: I’m actually on my second Pelagos 39. Yes, I sold it and then bought another one in a relatively short timeframe afterwards, albeit for slightly cheaper. Yes, I am hypocritical for reviewing the P39 in such a complimentary fashion and then selling it afterwards. Yes, I did a dumb thing and have since corrected the problem. Don’t come at me.
Bulova Jet Star
New to me as of a few months ago, the dressy Jet Star takes home the group superlative of “Best Personality.” This seventies re-edition caught my eye for several reasons, although the biggest may be the high frequency quartz movement which gives the Jet Star’s seconds hand a clean, mechanical-like sweep.
The vast majority of my collection can be classified as sports watches. The Jet Star is about as antithetical as you can get from that ill-defined category: a highly angular case, glossy deep scarlet dial, and striped indices. These features bear no similarity to anything else I own, thus adding a significant degree of diversity to the group.
If you’re wondering how I discovered the Jet Star, check out this video by Theo & Harris ASAP. It is a wonderful ad, just short of three minutes and shot at the TWA hotel in New York, and invokes the original (then automatic winding) Jet Star of the previous century with a side helping of old world nostalgia. I think I have watched it at least five times. The true number is likely a multiple higher.
Truth be told, I haven’t found a ton of opportunities to wear the Jet Star yet. It isn’t a motorcycling companion for me, and I have been lacking in formal occasions to maximize its qualities. I did, however, manage to smash it into a wall while playing with my beloved canine companion Juno. The bottom right lug is now a lovely swirled mess. I suppose that officially makes it mine.
Nodus Sector GMT ‘RedBar’ Edition
The RedBar Sector GMT is special to me given the circumstances under which it was developed and created. More on that here, but the bottom line is that this special edition was created as a collaboration between RedBar ATL, my local watch enthusiast group, and Nodus Watches, based out of L.A. The big wigs of our group, led by the ever fearless Faisal Nayani (please check him out at Living The Anchor Life), worked hard to create a cool collab that everyone could enjoy. Indeed, they and the folks at Nodus did a bang up job.
My favorite thing about the Sector GMT is how casual it is – it exists on the exact opposite end of the spectrum when compared to the Jet Star. It looks killer on the OEM white rubber strap from Nodus; I have never taken it off that strap, and I change watch straps on the Pepsi as frequently as I change socks. If I’m wearing white tennis shoes or neutral colors, I tend to gravitate to the Nodus solely because of the strap.
Kudos to Nodus for creating such a unique layout. Most GMT watches rely on an external bezel to track a second or even third time zone. Here, Nodus opted to create an internal track on a multi-layer dial – the jury is still out on whether it is more functional than the traditional approach, but I will always support independent brands doing things their own way.
If you like the Sector GMT, I’d be remiss in not reminding you that this is a regular production watch for Nodus. It won’t come in red or with the special Atlanta skyline caseback, but the standard colors are still highly attractive. The best part? These watches start at $475, going up to $525 if you want the matching steel bracelet or the new Tuxedo colorway. We are in the beating heart of value proposition territory.
DIY Watch Club GMT Diver
Surprise, another GMT. This is number three of four. I don’t have a problem.
This one is a bit different, however. Why, you might ask? Well, I built it. This watch is a kit model and one of many offered by DIY Watch Club, a company which also sells accompanying tools and video lessons to guide you through construction. This was a fun experiment, if nothing else because the world of watches is generally more theory than hands-on (unless you are a watch maker, and we both know you’re not).
Keep in mind that they don’t let you completely bumble your way through construction; the movement itself is pre-assembled, likely to ensure that consumers will not immediately ruin their new watch and attempt to return the debris that remains. You can certainly take the movement apart, but I’d leave that for a future day where you’ve got more practice and are feeling frisky. The whole process should take 1-2 hours depending on your dexterity level. Personally, I found it enjoyable in tackling the buildout.
Full disclosure: this one doesn’t see much daylight. The dimensions are fairly beastly compared to the rest of the crew, and while its thickness isn’t off-putting, it makes it hard to choose over the others I own. I suppose the reward here isn’t the end product, but more so the learning that was gained along the way. Positive side-note: this GMT Diver has fantastic lume. Seriously, it beats the tar out of my Pelagos 39.
Hodinkee x Online Ceramics G-Shock Ref. 5600
Another “something something” I own that is a little different, I picked up the new G-Shock collaboration between Hodinkee and L.A.-design house Online Ceramics at the tail end of last year. I adore Hodinkee, but I have no prior knowledge of Online Ceramics as a brand. Luckily $185 felt like a strike zone worth gambling on, and the saturated forest green coloration has made it a worthwhile purchase.
Important note: I have never owned a digital watch before this G-Shock. I’m not a snob for mechanical, given my ownership of the Jet Star and other quartz watches, but I am typically a snob for traditional analog. Obviously, that is something that this G-Shock is most certainly not.
What I have discovered is that, through owning this watch, perhaps I’m not as much of a snob as I initially suspected. I genuinely enjoy wearing my G-Shock regularly and it adds extra outfit functionality that I didn’t realize I was missing. The small touches are lively and a tad psychedelic; the text on the side declares such phrases like “Sun Watch, Moon Time” and “Mushroom House, Haunted Wagon.” There’s even a hidden message for when you light up the screen: “Love Grows In The Sunshine.” I wholeheartedly agree.
Family Watches
These two largely exist outside of the collection, but they’re permanent and thus we should talk about them.
Finally, we arrive at GMT #4 and my first watch ever, the Citizen Nighthawk. A homage to the Breitling Navitimer, the Nighthawk is a bulky solar-powered pilot’s watch with more going on than I care to utilize or learn about. My dad was enthused with Breitling during his younger days, likely a reflection of my grandad’s occupation as a pilot, and so the Nighthawk was an affordable alternative to the real deal. I don’t wear the Nighthawk as much as I used to, but it retains a permanent position in the Count Sunny Hours pantheon.
The second is my grandad’s bumper-automatic Tissot, which is probably 34mm at best and resides on the most extra-looking bund cuff I have ever seen. I could never wear this or pull it off – the sizing makes my arm look like a twig. Still, this Tissot represents a lifetime as a career pilot for ‘ole Gramps and is a conduit for our family’s history. If I shake it back and forth, it fires right up and tells the time just as good as it did when my grandad wore it.
Both of these watches aren’t in the regular rotation anymore. Their significance lies beyond material enjoyment; it’s a sentimental thing, and likely will be that way forever. I can’t help but crack the faintest smile whenever I see them sitting next to the Pepsi. Talk about a sharp looking trio of musketeers, eh?
What Moved On?
Oh boy, here we go. There were several unfortunate casualties in 2023. I am going to avoid writing about them all in detail since most lack significance, but there are three that I feel deserve a shout out.
Omega Speedmaster 3560.50 “30th Anniversary Apollo XI”, Mitsukoshi Conversion
The heavy hitter of this trio, my Omega Speedmaster. For the fellow watch nerds I surround myself with, this one’s departure was surprising. Alongside the wine red bund strap I wore it on, it was a uniform accessory that I had come to be regularly associated with – if you saw me doing literally anything, I had that Omega on my wrist. It was effectively my ride or die for seven years; I didn’t step outside the house without this watch strapped on.
An interesting quirk about this Speedy is that I had intended for this to be a birth year watch, a ref. 3570.50 of 1994 vintage. What I realized I had received later from the dealer was a more rare 2000 vintage Apollo anniversary edition, recognizable only by the commemorative caseback. Given my newness to watches at the time, the mistake wasn’t identified until almost a year later when I had already converted the dial and handset. Whoops.
I ultimately moved on from the Speedmaster for a few reasons. The first was the Pepsi; it was simply too effective and became an unintended replacement. The Pepsi’s size also made the Speedy seem like a clown car on wrist. Second was the pushers; I was never happy with having to replace them, and their slightly different dimensions generated constant friction against my OCD for uniformity. I have harped on this a few times already, but small details are everything and it goes both ways; once you notice something wrong, you can’t unsee it.
I have asked myself the question “Did I make a mistake?” more than a few times in regards to the Speedy. As the most object-sentimental fool on the planet, I reached a startingly non-sentimental, common sense conclusion: this watch was present to capture special memories, but it is the people and experiences that made those memories special, not the watch itself. I do not regret its departure.
Seiko Flightmaster GMT
This was a fun one. One of Seiko’s oddballs from the 90s, the Seiko kinetic line attached automatic-style rotors to a capacitor in order to recharge the power reserve. The watch you see above, the Flightmaster, was the GMT of the lineup and the only one with a removeable caseback.
Let me be decisively clear upfront that the Flightmaster’s bezel is my favorite bezel of all time. That isn’t because of functionality, per se, but rather the appearance: this is the only watch I have ever seen with a hammered texture for the daytime section. I love steel finished bezels in general, so this extra attention to detail wholly makes my day.
I owned the Flightmaster GMT for a year plus… an impressive mark given my dubious track record of holding onto watches. Ultimately the movement’s thickness, which caused the caseback to extend outwards far more than normal, pushed me away from wearing it regularly. That caseback completely negated my NATO straps and made the Flightmaster GMT sit unnecessarily high (and thus unstably). Ultimately, I released it to another loving forever home.
Similar to the Speedy, I sometimes ask myself if I abandoned this one prematurely. The answer here is yes, which is a minor bummer. The horrors persist but so I do, it seems.
Baltic MR01
Heard of Baltic? This French microbrand has gained quite the cult following as a purveyor of vintage-inspired watches; of all the non-mainstream brands, Baltic garners the most confidence and attention in watch circles. While they get shade thrown at them for using Chinese movements, I have found this a trivial gripe when put in the context of how much Baltic has to offer.
My first and only go with Baltic lies in the 36mm MR01, a Calatrava-style dress watch. The MR01 is quite the looker, and it starts and ends with that grain-textured dial and the silver Breguet numerals. To me, this is probably the most dynamic looking dress watch under $1,000 that you can purchase today. Want something that punches as hard as your rental tuxedo? The MR01 is your huckleberry.
Unfortunately, this section is not dedicated to why I kept the MR01 but rather the opposite. While a $600 USD price tag certainly affords you value, it also reminds you of what you’re not getting. Unfortunately, the plain bezel and unsigned, undersized crown killed my interest in keeping the MR01 instantaneously. I didn’t even have it long enough to take a proper photo. Sigh.
So What’s Next?
I ponder this question weekly with an almost excessive level of intensity. I’m not in a position to make a splash this year, but a man-child can dream and dream away I shall.
The next serious purchase is another Rolex from yesteryear. I have such a soft spot for 4-digit and 5-digit serial references; they represent a more romantic time period for Rolex before it morphed into the cultural luxury monster it is today, and as I have said before, they are impeccably proportioned.
To get granular, my heart flutters for a well-kept Day-Date. Yours truly doesn’t want any yellow gold bling – just slide that puppy onto my wrist in white gold and I am set. White gold is highly specific and exudes a restrained air of stealth wealth; this watch does not come in steel, so you either know or you don’t. Enthusiasts that recognize it for what it is (rather than just seeing the crown logo on the dial) will earn a white gold star in my book.
Secondary option? A very undercover Explorer I, ref. 14270. Let’s call it drilled end lugs, tritium indices, and an Oyster bracelet. My thoughts on the modern incarnation and its two-tone sibling can be found here; I love these watches, but as is tradition, I always gravitate towards older models with mileage on them. Platonic ideal and all that – when I see an Explorer I, that is what I think a watch should look like. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.
So, that’s it. You’ve got my take on the present, the past, and potentially the future. We’ll re-do this exercise again in 2025, and I am excited to see how this group morphs over the course of the year. See you in February.
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