The value of Tudor's watches (Black Bay 36)

In June this year I became interested in Tudor's Black Bay 36, released at Baselword not more than a year before. Not only did it kick the trend of large 40mm plus watches, it also offered me the chance to own new Swiss toolwatch luxury for US$2,200, with the classic styling of that distinctive snowflake hour-hand. Mm-m-mmm!

 

At Rolex Causeway Bay, Hong Kong
June 2017

Youtube watch enthusiast TGV fondly refers to others referring to Tudor as the poor cousin of Rolex, because Rolex make and market Tudor as a more affordable sub-brand. He calls Rolex "the crown behind the shield", and rightly says that if you wear a Tudor, people might think you can't afford a Rolex. 

After trying one on however, I discovered that even if price were your deciding factor, the point is moot: Tudor watches are built to the highest tolerance I have physically handled, and that's including Rolex.

Crown action

On most watches, when you extract the crown to adjust the time or date, there is a flagrant level of play in rotation. That is, the crown freely rotates at least 20 degrees (out of 360) with no response from the minute, hour or date hands. Only at the end of that 20 degree arc does it engage, and start moving components on the watch face. This happens in most Japanese and Swiss watches, and was something I assumed intrinsic to all mechanical movements. It makes the watch feel cheap, even if signed in three places with the logo of a prestigious brand.

This free play didn't happen on the Tudor Black Bay 36. To my wonderment, upon unscrewing the crown from its watertight state and popping it out to adjustment mode, the hands started moving the moment I rotated the crown. This doesn't seem like an accident. Either I'd received an outlying unit, or someone designed the watch to do exactly that.

I've handled new and second hand Rolexes whose crowns jiggle the same as a US$300 watch, and which were nowhere near the Black Bay's responsiveness. 

Peace of mind entering the luxury zone

Buying vintage is harsh on the nerves. Sure, the watch may look unpolished, and possess wonderful patina, but who knows what on earth has been wrought on the insides? A handful of people on earth would be able to look inside a vintage Tudor, and tell if the original parts had been replaced. Even if you knew someone like this, connecting their expert opinion to your local 'guy', or a a seller across the world is unlikely.

For this reason, buying a new unit is preferable for most, and at this price, the Tudor presented me high temptation. Here's an alluring 30 seconds of the Black Bay 36 in action.

I held off for three months waiting for the fever to subside, which it finally did, when I acknowledged that I really wanted something with more flair. The Black Bay, for its pedigree and surprising build quality, was handsome but not fly.

What I think Tudor should do next

Tudor people: You're on the right track with smaller sizing - this is a huge step in the right direction, for any customer with up to a 20mm wrist.

• Expand your portfolio in the 36-38mm range;

• Start using >50 hour power reserve movements, and keep thickness below 11.5mm, which shouldn't be hard if you continue to omit a date complication;

Omega Speedmaster '60th anniversary' edition
Released 2017

• On the Black Bay 36, re-introduce the dive bezel found on the regular black bays, and consider using a chassis in unpolished steel, similar to what we see in the Omega Speedmaster 1957 '60 year anniversary' edition, released this year.

• Ditch the hulking leather strap and clasp. These are too bulky for a watch this size. Replace it with a standard leather strap, and keep the excellent grey camouflage NATO seen in the video.

These changes would dispel accusations that the watch's identity is confused, and make tool-watch luxury accessible to the many enthusiasts busting to go beyond affordable brands like Seiko.