Stainless Steel Chronographs and the Romance of Adventure
The Zenith Connoisseur himself brings us a personal essay on the joy of classic steel watches.
There are many trends and “hypes” in the watch world that I’ve never understood. Being cursed (and blessed) very young with an old soul, and having been an avid Zenith-only collector for years, it’s difficult and confusing to navigate in this new world, where diameters are sometimes unimaginably large and new releases are endless (I believe some call them “limited editions”). Like never before, superficiality and following the crowd has become a bit of a benchmark in watch collecting. In this rapidly moving world it is relatively easy to forget about the romance that an old (which, to me, means pre-WW2) and dusty timepiece can bring us.
It seems many are buying “smart” watches nowadays, for work or “leisure” (can a piece of tech give you leisure?). Darwin did say those best adapted are those that survive, not necessarily the “smartest”. In the “old days,” watches were never made to expire so fast. They were made for eternity. Smartwatches are destined to die when the next update arrives. But somehow, these old timepieces survived the gruesome test of time.
This was in the very old days, too: fluctuating temperatures, moisture, and, you know, multiple wars. These watches became items that were passed on from generation to generation. Items that were the last reminder of vibrant life of a soldier, husband and father. The last relic a widow could hold in memory of her beloved soulmate. Not a new-old-stock item, but something that was worn. A strong reminder of a life well—or perhaps in turbulent times, not so well—lived. These watches were not perfect, but more important than that: they were real. Honest, raw and unforgiving.
But I’ve digressed for too long. One of the recent “hypes” that I do fully understand is the urge to collect stainless steel chronographs. Those items still possess this sense of grandeur and adventure that technology simply cannot capture — no matter how many terabytes you are blessed with (whatever that is). These stainless steel chronographs represent something larger than ourselves. A grotesque statement deviant of our safeguarded civilization. Dials were so complicated that they screamed for both knowledge and adventure. You needed to invest time and passion to actually understand the timepiece in the first place. Steel does not shy away from its environment. It’s reliable and no-nonsense. Precious metals were for those that could lead their lives with a little more ease, despite what the ads told you.
Ask a child what they want to become. I still have yet to come across the first kid who wholeheartedly answers: office clerk, manager, politician (thank goodness). Kids still dream, and when they dream, they want to become pilots, astronauts, firefighters, doctors, change-makers. Women and men in the field. Somewhere along the line we seem to lose this spark, settling down for something comfortable — and some may find a home here. They can now transition to gold watches to reliably read their 9-to-5 schedule.
But the adventurers are still out there. Exploring caves, fighter pilots were reading their tachymeter scales and used their chronographs to time a bombing while astronauts planted flags on the moon. I own old advertisements in my private archive of Pilots crossing continents with a Zenith timepiece strapped to their wrist. The pioneers couldn't go without their timepiece. Weems models saved accuracy at high altitude. The dreamers wore—and still wear—the stainless steel chronographs. Watches were made for people who got their hands dirty. Steel was and is synonymous with tools, industry, strength — and thus symbolizes an attitude of not taking the easy road. A symbol of endurance.
A rare Zenith Weems Corr RAF-Issued 6B/159 Pilot's Watch
This is why I wear mine. An homage to the men and women who took the road less travelled, and also a potent reminder for myself to do the same. And it makes all the difference. Perhaps steel is the ultimate luxury item; it teleports us to the luxury of being out there. It’s a gentle reminder that it’s ok to take a journey with resistance, knowing you have a tool that can accompany you on this adventure while you poke the status quo. You and your pulsometer, tachymeter or telemeter against the world. The ultimate scales reminding us that our luxury timepiece now was once a crucial tool. And by recognizing that they may feel superfluous now, you remember that’s exactly why we need them.
The Zenith Connoisseur is a longtime collector and expert on Zenith watches. Find them on Instagram, @zenithconnoisseur.
