Me in my latest iteration wearing white gold and an olive green dial. Image © Patek Philippe

I don’t often tell this story, so consider yourself lucky; for this is arguably the greatest love story between two watches you will ever hear.

First, let me introduce myself. I am the Patek Philippe 5204G, the latest iteration of Patek’s universally revered perpetual calendar split-seconds chronograph. For many, I am a grail watch, because I combine the above complications, each of which is rare and exceedingly difficult to master, in one relatively compact and -if I may say so, gorgeous package.

In my world, it is not uncommon for two watches from the same family to get married and have kids. After all, our DNA has gears, wheels, and pinions -not organic matter. That said, I’m not quite sure where our soul is stored now that I think about it. Maybe in our mainspring barrel, or our escapement. But I digress. A long time ago in 1941 at Patek Philippe, a perpetual calendar decided to mate with a chronograph. Nobody knows why. All my grandparents ever told me is that it was a particularly cold and lonely winter in Switzerland and there were bad things happening around the world. Their baby boy (named 1518) looked stunning, and it wasn’t long before it achieved every parent’s dream: to outshine them. Soon, it became the most collectable watch...in the world. And it still is up there in contention. It wasn’t until 1995, three watch generations later, that the world saw the first serially produced perpetual calendar split-seconds chronograph (my father, the 5004), instantly enamoring collectors worldwide.

The Patek Philippe 1518, the unexpected and exquisite love child of a perpetual calendar and a chronograph. Image © hautetime.com

But enough with ancient history. This story is about me. I was born in 2012 and featured Patek Philippe’s first fully in-house developed chronograph caliber. With my chunky crown and perfect proportions, I was, of course, adored by collectors. But I always felt a little bit lonely. You see, given how complicated I am, Patek doesn’t make very many of me every year. And in the world of watches, there aren’t really many timepieces like me at all. Growing up wasn’t particularly easy. The Patek chronographs were jealous of me, the perpetual calendars were mean to me, and the minute repeaters looked down on me because I was super complicated, yet couldn’t chime the time like they could. That said, I had very supportive parents. But my only true friend was the A Lange & Sohne Datograph Perpetual -a German of all things! We would spend days running our chronographs, measuring all kinds of silly things, or enumerating all our little parts and how well they were hand finished.

My in-house caliber CHR 29-535 PS Q in all its glory. Try to count all my parts -I'll measure how long it takes you. Image © Patek Philippe

Friends are lovely, but I was always a romantic soul. What I really wanted was to meet a beautiful watch who wanted to spend the rest of her life playing with my pushers. It was the Datograph who introduced me to my first girlfriend: a Little Lange 1, with a gorgeous engine-turned dial, off-center subdials, a big date, and a glorious case in white gold. And while I enjoyed gazing at her movement with all its fine finishes, I wasn't really in love. It wasn’t even six months before she dumped me cold -for a Lange Zeitwerk Handwerkskunst. I never learned how to pronounce his name, and I never will.

It took a while to get over my Little Lange 1. For two whole weeks, I was drowning in sorrow! One day, however, I was crossing the street in the rain and I saw the most beautiful watch I have ever come across. She looked unlike any other I had ever seen, with an indescribable case shape, wearing titanium and covered in diamonds, beautifully slender, sporting a very distinctive dial. Her name was F.P. Journe Élégante. And élégante she was in spades. This doesn’t happen often with us watches, but it was the definition of love at first sight. She invited me to her boutique, offered me a glass of 1985 Romanée-Conti, looked me right between my date apertures and said “I have decided you are the one”. She asked for François-Paul Journe’s blessing right then and there who, thankfully, did not need much convincing, and the rest is history. We got married 6 months later in our hometown of Geneva, in what came to be described by Auro Montanari as the most glamorous wedding in modern watchmaking history. Thierry Stern walked me down the aisle and could not stop grinning. François-Paul Journe gifted every human in attendance a Chronomètre Bleu. Max Büsser gave a speech that made all of us cry from joy, Jean-Claude Biver was so happy he accidentally smashed a table full of his homemade cheese, and Kari Voutilainen gave us the most wonderful wedding present imaginable.

The love of my life, the F.P. Journe Élégante 40mm in titanium with diamonds. Image © F.P. Journe

That said, not everyone was a fan of ours. I got a lot of vitriol from collectors and watches alike. “What are you doing with a quartz watch? You are supposed to embody mechanical excellence”. “Were all the grand complications taken?” “Don’t you think you would be happier spending your life with a minute repeater?” Though people hesitated to tell her directly, she wasn’t treated very well either. “Really? A Patek? How original” or “She should have stayed with a quartz watch, now their kids will be like Grand Seiko’s Spring Drive”.

I could not care less what the world thinks of us. We are perfect for each other. Sure, she is quartz, but she is nothing like your standard high horology battery-powered watch. Her mechanism was developed and patented by Swiss electrical engineers. Her battery lasts more than 10 years. She is extremely accurate. Clad in titanium, she is light as a feather. She is admired by collectors -so much so that F.P. Journe made a mens’ version of her. Her entire dial is luminous, which means I can see her face in all its glory in the darkness of the night. But most importantly, unlike any other high horology quartz watch...she loves to sleep. After 30 minutes of laying still, her mechanism enters low-power mode and her hands stop. While she may look dead, her circuits run in the background, always keeping accurate time. And my favorite thing in the world is nudging her while she’s sleeping, just so I can see her wake up and gracefully move her hands to show the correct time. Let’s be honest, I may be a hell of a watch, but I am entirely mechanical, which means that on her worst day she is far more accurate than I could ever be. So I’m not embarassed to admit that I use her time as a reference to set mine. Best of all, she is extremely low maintenance. All she wants is a battery replacement every 10-15 years. If anything, I am the one who is high maintenance. So complex is my movement that I need to be sent back to my factory every 5 years or so, to make sure my hundreds of parts remain perfectly lubricated and working in harmony. She happily comes with me when I need servicing, and insists that no lady watch is in close proximity when Patek’s watchmakers strip me naked and lubricate my jewels. In short, I love her to bits.

I hope you get to meet us one day, and that you'll have your own love story to share. I doubt it will rival ours, but you can try. If there is one thing us watches could teach you humans, it is to think long term. But in my case, I will share with you another, even more important lesson my other half taught me: don’t listen to what anyone else thinks. Sometimes it’s those no one imagines anything of who do the things no one can imagine.

Time to reset my chronograph and go nudge my beauty.

À bientôt,

I, the Patek Philippe 5204G