How to become a (successful) vintage watch collector
Every watch obsessive has a dream: mine is a 1964 Rolex Daytona 6239. Sadly, even addiction has boundaries and the only way I’ll ever own one is if I sell my house. Thankfully, I can console myself with the knowledge that there are other less-coveted timepieces that, even in these interconnected times, occasionally fly under the radar.
Anyone can buy a Rolex Military Submariner ‘Milsub’ ref. 5513 (circa 1971) – all it takes is Google and about £80,000. But finding a double-signed watch (a timepiece with both the retailer’s and the maker’s name on the dial) at the price of a round of drinks in the City takes patience and, dare I say it, a degree of skill.
Among my most prized finds is the Taubert Frères-cased Winegartens honeycomb dial I bought on Vinted for £17, which is now conservatively valued at £500. Locating watches like that can feel like searching for the needle in the proverbial haystack, only in this case, the haystack is functionally infinite. But there are ways to help your cause…
Collecting vintage watches? Make sure to specialise
First, you need to work out what floats your boat. Car nerds don’t just collect ‘cars’; they go for ‘53 Chevys or ‘75 Minis. It’s the same with vintage timepieces: specialise. My personal catnip includes the old British City firms of Winegartens and J.W. Benson. For you, it could be Omega, Seiko or Smiths.
I look for watch heads (no strap) and study the dial – because at this level, 60 to 80 per cent of the value lives in the dial. Back in the 1950s, it took time, effort and money to make guilloché, waffle and linen dials, so if you spot a piece with these, there’s a fair chance it has a good movement inside, too. Be suspicious of overly clean dials that don’t match the ageing and patina of the case.
Aside from the maker or retailer’s name, what else does it say on the face? Shockproof? Automatic? Incabloc? These are all indications there could be value here.
Next I look at the case. Study your favourites and get to know the tell-tale shapes and curves like you would a classic car. Soon enough, with the same intuition that auto wonks can tell you a rusty bumper came off a 1952 Sunbeam Alpine, you will be able to spot the signature shape of a Borgel or Monnin waterproof case at thirty paces.
And don’t look down your nose at quartz; there has never been a better time to collect neo-vintage pieces. Take Universal Genève, for example: with the recent high-profile relaunch of the brand by Breitling, the internet is obsessing over the luxury firm’s historical mechanical milestones, such as the Polerouter, yet people are practically giving away their 1980s quartz pieces. They see the word ‘quartz’ and move on, overlooking the legendary name on the dial and the quality of the case.
The real magic, though, happens not on the internet but on the kitchen table. Assuming you aren’t worried about things like pressure-testing for water resistance, rescuing vintage pieces doesn’t require a master horologist’s workshop.
A bit of Polywatch to buff out decades of crystal scratches, some old-fashioned spit and polish for the case, a spring bar tool, and a period-correct strap can completely transform a forgotten relic. A piece of unloved, skip-bound junk becomes a desirable, wrist-worthy timepiece. Suddenly you have a new watch for your collection – or something to flip to fund your next purchase.
But it’s not really about the money: it’s about the thrill of the chase, the endless search, the knowledge that the next bargain buy might be the big one. That’s what keeps you hooked. And occasionally – just occasionally – someone will say: “That’s a nice watch.”
Andy is picture editor at City PM