This sleek silver Zodiac is powered by a 25 jewel variation of Zodiac’s 1960s workhorse 70-72 movement. It has a somewhat unusual (for the time period) monoblock case (solid back) case, with a split stem to allow insertion and removal of the movement through the front of the case.

Leave it to Universal Genève to make a microrotor movement that, somewhat in contrast to the Buren microrotor in my Hamilton 688, is genuinely well designed and engineered (and pretty to look at, with Geneva striping across the entire movement). It still has the usual microrotor efficiency issues, but the hand winding mechanism is so solid that it hardly matters. It’s too bad the dial on this watch was subjected to an overly aggressive attempt at cleaning and tritium dot removal, but it still looks good in person - better than the photos.

I tend to be pretty picky about dial condition when I’m shopping for parts and repair watches to restore. This one has a bit more patina than I’m used to, but I wasn’t about to pass up a good deal on a Universal bumper auto, and I have to admit that the somewhat weathered dial looks pretty good sitting in a polished case under a new crystal. The movement, as expected of Universal Genève, is really well made and was a breeze to service.

You can see the distinct aesthetic of modern Tissot watches start to take shape already in this Seastar from the early 1960s, although the contrasting gold hands/indices and steel case is definitely a classic look. One oddity about this watch is that the Tissot 784 movement has no quickset at all for the calendar - not even a unidirectional calendar driving wheel - so setting the date can be a pain. I usually don’t bother when I wear this one.

Classic Tissot watches tended to be very “fashion forward” and they always seem to look particularly modern relative to their actual age. That’s certainly true of this example, with its high-contrast white on black dial. It’s possible, in fact, that this is a re-dial, although it’s difficult to be sure. Regardless, it’s a great looking watch. The Tissot 27-3 movement has an unusual early shock protection design, with the balance cap jewel mounted in a housing that is attached to the balance cock from below by a pair of screws that have polished tips for better aesthetics. The movement ring for this watch was missing, so I 3D printed a replacement.

I really love the look of the reverse panda dial on this Landeron-driven chronograph. Podium 2000 is a great example of a pre-quartz-crisis Swiss watch “micro-brand,” where small distributors, jewelers, and export agents could contract various Swiss ebauche manuafacturers to assemble all the parts needed to build a watch.

Back in the days when the big watch brands hadn’t really established a dedicated retail presence, it wasn’t uncommon for major watch boutiques like Turler to sell pieces with their name co-signed on the dial. The 562 automatic movement powering this example is a bit aesthetically compromised due to oxidation - probably from being worn while swimming - but it works very well and keeps great time. It’s an important watch for me, both because it was my first Omega restoration, and because it was the first watch where I was able to successfully straighten a damaged, bent hairspring - an important milestone in my watchmaking journey.

This Omega is one of my favorites. The polished stainless steel case contrasts really nicely with the subtle golden shade of the dial as well as the gold hands and indices. The case and dial on this one are also in particularly good condition. Inside is a classic bumper automatic movement which, while showing a signficant amount of cosmetic wear, still runs great. I love the way these bumper automatics occasionally squirm a bit on your wrist as if they’re alive.

This handsome silver Longines from the late 1960s still wears exceptionally well, with its large (for the era) case size and clean, modernist look. The cal. 302 movement inside is part of the brand’s celebrated 30L lineage—thin, beautifully finished, and mechanically robust—making it one of the better manual-wind calibers of its era. When I received this watch it was in pretty good shape (compared to many of the watches I work on, anyway), but was not running due to a broken balance pivot - a fairly unusual occurence in shock protected watches. The only sources for a new balance stem were in Europe, and, without the de minimus exemption, getting it through US customs, tiny as it was, was quite an adventure in itself.

One day I was casually scanning EBay listings and I ran across a gentleman selling brand new modern cases designed for vintage Landeron movements. As it happened, I also had a perfectly good Landeron 149 movement - originally purchased as a parts movement but never used - that came with a decent Loengrin-branded dial and hands. And just like that this marriage watch was born. The new case is extremely chunky and heavily built, and definitely gives the watch a look that is more modern than vintage, but mostly I was glad to be able to put this nice Landeron movement back to work!

If you forced me to pick the best-looking watch in my collection, I’m pretty sure it would be this one. Something about the dial design on this JLC is just perfect - pictures don’t really do it justice. It’s powered by a rather handsome bumper automatic movement, so, like most bumper autos, it occasionally gives a little twitch on your wrist to remind you it’s there. It also has a really unusual shock setting for the balance, where the upper balance jewels are retained by a pivoting brass spring arm.

I had my eyes out for a vintage IWC to add to my collection for quite some time before stumbling upon this example. Even in non-running condition, it didn’t exactly come cheap, but I love the end result. While it’s on the small side, it still looks great on the wrist with the cream colored dial and gold numerals offset by a blued center second hand. The IWC 61 movement is also beautiful but has some flaws. Notably, the indirect drive for the center second hand uses a very light tension spring in an attempt to control flutterg. Unfortunately, the original tension spring was worn out, leading to a distracting amount of second hand flutter when the watch was running (this doesn’t affect timekeeping, but it’s certainly distracting). After some experimentation, I found that a piece of hairspring from a large vintage pocket watch was just the right size and tension to substitute for the original, and the flutter tendencies and now much reduced.

Some vintage watches are highly cooperative. Others, not so much. This particular Hamilton fought me tooth & nail, but I persisted (through multiple donor movements) because I really love the style of the dial. The Buren-sourced microrotor movement in this thing is cool looking, but not fun to work on. Lowlights include a complex and cantankerous compound ratchet wheel, a frankly terrible click spring design, and a difficult-to-assemble automatic winding mechanism underneath the rotor. Eventually I got it working, however. Well, except for the calendar - the calendar driving wheel, like most of the rest of this movement, is complex and delicate, and the one in this watch literally fell apart. I have not yet been able to source a replacement, so the calendar is currently stuck on 6 (short for “666”).

The Soundgarden tune Black Hole Sun always comes to mind when I look at this Hamilton with its unusual black sunburst pattern dial. This really is a great looking watch which somehow manages to be both classic and different at the same time. It’s not all looks though; the ETA Swiss movement is a strong runner. Interestingly, the balance shock spring design resembles Seiko’s diashock design in both form and function. Seiko released the first diashock watch in 1956, while ETA ramped up production of the 1080 caliber in the mid 1950s, so it’s not clear who was first here.

I have restored several Girard-Perregaux pieces for sale in my shop, but this is the only one, so far, that I’ve decided to add to my own collection. Something about the deep relief of the prominent dial indices on this watch looks particularly good to my eyes. The 39 jewel count of the GP 31 movement is impressive, but a bit of a cheat, with 14 of those jewels incorporated into the pawls of the automatic reversing wheels. Still, it’s a nice, accurate movement, with a high (for the era) 21,600 bph rate. This watch was in pretty good vintage shape, except for the hands, which had experienced significant finish oxidation and looked much rougher and older than the dial. I went ahead and refished them, with fresh rhodium plating. Re-finishing watch hands is definitely a tricky operation (for me at least - I’m not a jeweler), but I think it turned out quite well in this case.

This is a really clean example of a 60’s Eterna, and the simple silver and black look goes great with the dark grey band I got for it. It’s not quite as pretty as my favorite Eterna, but still a very handsome & reliable watch. The 1481K movement exhibits typical Eterna quality.

Here’s another one of my favorites and, IMO, one of the best-looking watches in my collection. There’s something just “right” about the design of the watch face, and the gold capped-stainless case is also very cool. Eterna was always on point as far as the quality and engineering of their movements, and the 1428U in this example was a joy to service. I particularly like the way Eterna handles the automatic reversing wheels so that the full wheel is visible. The only thing I don’t love about this watch is the tiny semi-recessed crown, which looks great, but which is particularly difficult to grip when manually winding.

Quality vintage watches with blue dials in good condition are surprisingly hard to find, so I was happy when I tracked down this Bucherer example. The AS 1686 movement isn’t the prettiest, but it’s reliable and keeps good time. The movement is retained with a simple stamped steel case ring - not my favorite arrangement, as the movement tends to want to fall out when you’re trying to regulate it in the dial up position with the case back off.

Have you ever received a watch as a gift, worn it once or twice, then put it away in a drawer? It seems like this watch was one of those. I received it in its original box, with what (I think) is the original band, and in nearly perfect condition. In fact, it was so clean that I thought it was probably much more recent than it is. The first thing that clued me into its true age was when I opened the case and saw the design of the nicely-finished 20-jewel movement, with its above-the-bridge indirect drive center second hand and separate excape wheel bridge. Unfortunately, while it’s distinctive and almost certainly an ebauche of some sort, I have not been able to identify the movement (if you know, please comment!).

This Breitling has a great dial and is in excellent condition, even if it is a bit on the dainty side, size-wise. Like many manufacturers at the time, Breitling relied on ébauche movements, and the manual wind FHF 28 in this watch was no exception. It was actually quite an innovative movement for the time, with a direct drive for the center second hand.