Collections

The regatta watch, dressed for land. Bidirectional bezel, raised graduations, and the easiest of the steel sports Rolexes to wear under a cuff.

A second time zone read at a glance. The two-tone bezel is the giveaway; the reason people buy it is that it never needs explaining at an airport.

The racing chronograph everyone recognises. Tachymetric bezel, three counters, and a waiting list at retail that this catalogue does not have.

The reference dress watch. Fluted bezel, cyclops date, and proportions that suit almost any wrist — the safest first serious watch there is.

The diver that defined the genre. Ceramic bezel, luminous indices, and the rare sports watch that reads as well with a suit as with a wetsuit.

Presence without excess. The same language on a larger canvas, for wrists that swallow a 36.

The other Swiss institution. Seamaster and Speedmaster lineage, wave motifs, and more watch shown through the back than most at this money.

The watchmaker's watchmaker. Reverso cases that flip, guilloché dials, and restraint where other houses add.

Cockpit legibility above all. Big crowns, clean dials, and the pilot's-watch template most brands ended up borrowing.

Geneva refinement with a jeweller's hand. Applied indices, warm gold tones, and dials made to be looked at closely.

Ultra-thin, and proud of it. Cases measured in millimetres and dials cut from stone — for when a watch should disappear under a shirt.

Roman architecture on the wrist. The double-logo bezel, octagonal geometry, and some of the flattest profiles anyone makes.

Motorsport, unapologetically. Chronographs built for the pit lane, at the point on the curve where the money still makes sense.

Haute horlogerie in its quietest register. Maltese-cross motifs, chamfered bridges, nothing shouted.

Italian naval heritage, oversized on purpose. Cushion case, crown bridge, sandwich dial — legible in the dark, unmistakable in daylight.

Skeleton architecture as the whole point. Star-shaped bridges, bevelled edges, and nothing hidden behind a dial.

The art of fusion. Composite bezels on six screws, structured rubber, and the movement shown from the front rather than the back.

The professional's instrument. Slide-rule bezel, chronograph counters, and dials designed to be read rather than admired.

Form watchmaking at its source. Roman numerals, blued sword hands, a cabochon in the crown — a shape first, a watch second.

A racing machine for the wrist. Tonneau case, skeletonised architecture, and the loudest silhouette in any room.

The porthole silhouette. Embossed dial, rounded-octagonal bezel, integrated bracelet — the watch that invented the luxury sports genre.

The most sculptural thing we stock. Faceted flanks, exposed gearing, and a strap moulded to the wrist.

The octagonal bezel on eight screws and the tapisserie dial: the 1972 design that made steel cost more than gold.

High-tech ceramic and monochrome discipline, drawn in Paris. Precision worn as couture.