Aged and proud of it

What follows is a response to a post we published a few days ago, asking whether it could ever make sense to trade in a diverse collection of practical watches for just three vintage – and rather similar – pieces. Here, Straight-Six, the man who did exactly that, explains why he did:

We’ve become obsessed with defying time itself.

Pleasantly ironic when applied to us maniacs who collect timepieces, this malady now permeates every nook and cranny of our society. It appears that being time-worn is no longer a badge of honour, no accumulation of hard-won wisdom and physical experience but instead a ghastly reminder of just how vulnerable we really are. And it scares us silly.

A former defender of the age-defying abilities and mechanical perfection of today’s watches, it took less than 72 hours and two weighty, espresso-fueled conversations with a vintage watch dealer for me to undergo nothing less than a conversion. An entire modern watch collection, lovingly built up over five years, was traded for two vintage timepieces, the youngest of which is almost 30 years old. Oh, and a wad of cash is also due by Xmas.

So, what the hell happened? And why?

Simply put, I had the eye-opening pleasure of discovering the roots of my watch-collecting passion and the seminal pieces that gave birth to what glints and gleams from the shop-window or LCD screen today. You know: the pieces accessible to anyone with sufficient cash or credit.

But seeking affirmation of oneself by virtue of owning a watch you’ll see hundreds of times a year on the wrists of others is a short-lived and shallow thrill. A necessary first step, yes, but something to move on from.

I wasn’t looking to buy a watch that Saturday when I sat down with the vintage dealer. This was to be a gentle introduction to the inner sanctum of watch collecting. A sneak peek. I had looked at vintage pieces before, but never had the time or interest to really absorb what they were all about. Besides, I has just picked up my immaculate 1985 Oysterquartz 17000, and my watch lust was definitely satiated.

Taking his time, the dealer proceeded to lay out a couple of pieces on the table – DRSD, Red Sub, original GMT w/tropical dial and a 6536/1 – each time explaining the particularities of each and how that made them more, or less, collectable. All of these wonderful, aged and collectible pieces in one place.

It was the 6536/1 Sub (originally on his wrist) that caught my attention. Its delicacy, golden patina and uniqueness unexpectedly and absolutely seduced me. This 60 year-old treasure spoke to me in a way that nothing had up until then. Where I had been struggled to come to terms with my “collectible” Daytona for many years, this wonderful, battered Sub spoke to me on terms so honest and true that everything that had come before felt like artifice.

We struck a deal and the Daytona left me that same afternoon. I went to pick up the Sub (which had its original riveted bracelet) 10 days later with its striking black NATO strap.

And then something really unexpected happened. That damned dealer pulled out a 1980 Maxi Dial 1665 Sea-Dweller with a gorgeous bezel insert patina. You can guess what happened next, but the remainder of my watch collection left that very afternoon. I didn’t hesitate to rid myself of them for something that was more by virtue of being less.

A word to the wise: the depths of vintage are endless and it is populated with many bizarre and downright dangerous creatures. As always, you buy the seller not the watch. And even then, it’s possible to get burnt. So, learn first, buy later. Contrary to what I did! No matter, it all gets chalked up to experience.

I won’t seek to defend the incestuous nature of owning a vintage Sub and Sea-Dweller. But over 20 years separate them. The golden glow of the 6536/1’s dial and hands reflect those years of difference, just as the eggshell patina that now coddles the 1665 differentiates it from the glacial immutability of modern dials and the hands that sweep over them. All of it somehow frozen in time.

I have no regrets. It’s all so much clearer now…