A truly deliberate purchase: the Rolex Datejust

So. Rolex.

I’ve written before in my watch blogs, at least in passing, about my formative experience with Rolex. My dad had a 16710 GMT, purchased in 1990 (on sale!), and I remember its battered steel sat in his valet tray, the way it hung comically loose on my wrist, heavy as a brick, when I tried it on as a kid.

He was a true self-made man (and he self-unmade himself, too, but that’s another story), a small business owner, a hard worker, and beneath his gruff exterior, that Rolex I think meant something to him. It certainly meant something to me.

My dad had far from the greatest last years of his life, and his watch was pawned and long gone by the time he died back in 2017. I have no idea where that GMT is today. But I sometimes catch myself thinking about it.

So while I’m suckered in by the Rolex brand like almost every watch aficionado, it’s not just me chasing hype. There’s something personal driving my interest in the crown.

As it happens, I’m not that far off the age my dad was when he got his Rolex, and when I look at my daughters’ skinny wrists I can’t help remember my own scrawny arm with that oyster bracelet hanging loose.

It was maybe three years ago that I finally got around to registering my interest in a Batgirl at the Watches of Switzerland in Liverpool Street. That was just before I got my Grand Seiko Mistflake, but at that point I had a Tudor Black Bay GMT and a few other solid watches. I figured a GMT was the right thing to go for, like my dad’s.

Needless to say, for such a popular model in such a high-traffic branch, the ‘call’ never came, and I mentally moved on. I got my Santos, Radiomir, Seamaster, and others. I moved on from GMTs, too, learning that I preferred simpler dials with fewer complications. About my only engagement with Rolex was trying mym luck in the airport boutiques when I flew for business trips, and those visits never amounted to anything.

But earlier this year I crossed the threshold at my local Goldsmiths, a Rolex AD, and tried on the model I had increasingly been eyeing as my collection matured: a smooth bezel Datejust 41, on jubilee, in mint green.

On the wrist, it was everything I hoped it would be, actually. I was smitten.

Goldsmiths is part of WoS, and one of their rules is that you can only be ‘on the list’ at one branch at a time. So I cancelled my laughable Batgirl ‘expression of interest’ in London and got my name down for the Datejust in my town. The sales guys were great; we chatted enthusiastically about Panerais for probably an hour, and they hinted not too subtly that my wait would be shorter than I might expect.

They were right, and despite absolutely zero of the cringey ‘popping in’ to ‘build a relationship’, I got the call after about five months, and duly (giddily) headed in to pick up my Datejust about three weeks ago.

Why was the wait so short? Global cost of living crisis. Weakening demand in Asia. Undesirable smooth-bezel model. My natural wit and charm?! Who knows.

I won’t go deep into the actual pickup appointment, but it was really… nice. The sales guy was professional, respectful, made me feel like a valued customer. I chatted to another customer, adding a Sub to his Explorer. The team took excellent care of the product, took their time, and frankly I have not a single criticism of the experience. Full marks, Goldsmiths.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve had plenty of time to reflect on the watch and how I feel about the context around it.

I’ll get some of the market stuff out of the way first. Obviously, the whole Rolex ‘thing’ is ridiculous. ‘Expressions of interest’, waiting lists, buying charcuterie boards for your AD sales guys, paying a mad premium for going grey, the flipper market, the model nicknames, spend histories, ‘got the call’ Reddit posts, it’s all bullshit. It’s mad, crazy bullshit. It’s the worst bit of being into watches.

I didn’t want to play any of that game. I like knowing that my watch basically won’t depreciate in the current market, and of course I am happy to have been one of the chosen few to ‘get the call’ — but I think the speculative nonsense is a net negative for the whole watch industry. And the snobbery that goes along with it too. I am a snob myself, for sure, but I know that Rolex isn’t the only brand out there worth owning. Yet we don’t see the same obsession over Blancpain or poor ol’ Zenith.

All that said: I do feel a deep sentimentality looking at this watch that connects me to my dad. My brain reminds me that it is a mass-produced lump of steel, one of 1.5 million made each year, backed by market hype and outstanding marketing, but what the hell, I have a Rolex on my wrist like my dad did, and it makes me feel something. Screw you if you think that’s silly.

Back in rational brain land, I can tell you that the watch itself is absolutely bloody fantastic.

Spec-wise, it ticks all the boxes without being stupid about any of them. Good water resistance, good power reserve, excellent rated accuracy, OK lume, great daylight legibility, modern movement with shock and magnetism resistance. The movement feels good to wind and to set despite the small crown.

Under a loupe, the finishing is excellent, truly excellent. Everything lines up perfectly (including the crown on the rehaut), the pad printing is crisp, polishing is great.

On the wrist, it’s superb. The jubilee bracelet is comfortable and has a simple extension for fat summer wrists. The case fits my wrist, slim with curved lugs.

The caseback is plain steel. I know the movement is decently finished, and normally I like an exhibition caseback… but funnily enough I like the totally blank steel caseback here. It feels like a vintage watch.

It is the archetype, the platonic ideal of watch, the definition of GADA. I could literally wear this watch every day. The first day I got it, I sweated on it in the gym. Then I showered in it.

And then there’s the dial. A soft, sunburst mint green that — sorry for the cliche — really ‘plays with the light’. But I mean, it really does. And on top of that dial, indices and a handset that just really bloody works. I had a Nomos Metro once that I really loved, but the hour and minute hand were basically the same length so I never knew what time it was. No such fear with the Datejust — the hands are exactly the right proportions. The indices are exactly big enough. The second hand is exactly prominent enough. With the exception of the polarising date wheel and cyclops, I dare you to find anything about this dial that you would change.

At £7600, the Datejust is not expensive by modern Swiss watch standards (although I think my dad paid about £1,200 for his GMT, about £3,000 today — relatively speaking Rolex prices have more than tripled). It’s expensive enough that I’m going to be careful around doorknobs and dodgy city streets, but it’s considerably cheaper, and considerably more practical, than a JLC Reverso, for example.

My dad was a one-watch guy. I mean that literally, he had one watch, like most men his age. To him, a watch was a tool, but it was also a milestone in his success. A successful businessman — even a blue-collar one like him — had a Rolex on his wrist and drove a BMW or Audi to the factory in the morning while the wife stayed home. He didn’t speak of status signifiers to me (he didn’t speak of much, for what it’s worth), but he was a proud man and as an engineer he liked well-engineered objects. I inherited that I guess.

36 years later, I don’t live in the same world. I have a bullshit laptop job, a much more modern complex relationship with my family where we talk about feelings, I have anxiety and I’m sure I’m autistic… and I also have a collection of watches, because to me a watch is a hobby, not just a thing I wear on my wrist.

So I’m running comparisons that my dad I’m sure never did. And the comparisons hold up. Despite my collection of Cartier, Omega, Panerai, Grand Seiko and others over the years, there is something special about Rolex, and about this Datejust, to me.

Rolex isn’t the most expensive brand, or the one with the best hand-finishing, or the longest heritage, or the craziest complications. There’s no Spring Drive here, or even coaxial movement like Omega. There’s no guilloche or legacy like JLC or Breguet. But regardless, Rolex is the undisputed king of watch brands, and (unpopular opinion), I think that’s not just down to marketing.

There is something special about these watches and the effortless needle they thread through modern life. The Datejust is dressy but also sporty. The specs are astonishingly balanced and capable. The aesthetics are restrained and timeless. There’s no fashion here, just style. You literally could wear this watch from 1950s boardroom to 2020s beach and not give it a second thought. Very few watches can pull that off in reality, despite what the reviews say.

So. Enough rambling. This Datejust turned out to be a personal, sentimental milestone (conveniently a week after I received a promotion, too), as well as a sound practical watch purchase, one that fits very nicely into my neat little collection. Well done me, and thanks to the chaps at Goldsmiths who made it happen.

Will this be my last Rolex? Well, we’ll have to see how life turns out. My dad made some bad decisions, fell on hard times and pawned his, and never got it back. I hope that my situation never changes that drastically, but who knows. If things go well, I would love to add a no-date Sub, 124060. If things go very well, maybe a Root Beer. But whatever the future holds, today I can look down at my wrist and see this beautiful green dial, and I know this: the whole Rolex thing? It’s not just my personal sentimentality, and it’s not just market hype. There is something real there. This is a great watch.