Any idea what's so special about me? Image © Hairspring.com
I am the most straightforward timepiece yet arguably the most difficult to make. I cost over 10 times the retail price of a Patek Philippe Calatrava, yet have not a single additional complication, and to the untrained eye we appear identical. Apart from the size, of course. I seem to be the only dress watch who has resisted the inevitable growth spurt, with my case diameter reminiscent of an era bygone, when men’s watches were full of quiet elegance. Your colleague who moved heaven and earth to be allowed to purchase a Rolex Submariner to mark a work anniversary likely has never heard of me, nor would he bat an eyelid if he saw me around your wrist. Yet to any knowledgeable watch connoisseur, I am the Holy Grail.
Hint: My dad is in this photo. Can you tell which one is the Swiss watchmaker?
It was the Japanese who fell in love with me first. Shellman of Japan, the renowned retailer of high horology, was in no small part responsible for my existence. The Japanese, I was told, know their watchmaking. They value craftsmanship, elegance, sophistication and, above all, understatement. They wanted a timepiece that looked unremarkable from afar, yet made with such singular dedication to perfection that a collector could examine it under a loupe and never tire of discovering all its intricate details. One that would make every other dress watch feel incomplete. One that would make Grand Seiko (and all of Switzerland) reimagine what perfection means. Thus I was born and aptly, though somewhat incongruously, named the Philippe Dufour Simplicity.
My legendary backside. Image © WatchesBySJX.com
My father assumed that I would find a nice home with a handful of appreciative collectors, and he would promptly carry on to making something a little more complicated. After all, he had just made the first wristwatch with a grande and petite sonnerie and minute repeater, not to mention my other sibling, the Duality, a watch with dual escapements and a differential averaging their rates for enhanced accuracy. A time-only wristwatch was nice, but he could do so much more. I’m sure he envisioned making his own chronograph, perpetual calendar, deadbeat second mechanism, sidereal time complication, power reserve indicator, and whatever else he could unearth from the history books of traditional Swiss high horology. After all, the Valee du Joux, where he is from, has a reputation for being the cradle of complicated watchmaking.
My even simpler iteration with roman numerals and heat-blued Breguet hands. Image © WatchesBySJX.com
History had other plans. So mesmerized were people by my father's craftsmanship, that in the next 20-odd years since my birth, he received more orders for me than he could possibly produce in a century. Dad was at a crossroads. Realizing the massive demand he was faced with, he could have chosen the logical path of outsourcing my production, buying a movement from a specialist manufacture to his own specifications, stamping his name on the bridges, hiring a marketing intern, a sales team, and moving from snowy Switzerland to a Greek isle, occasionally ringing his Swiss banker to keep track of his ever-increasing bank account balance. Unfortunately, my dad was not born a businessman. And although he was young, it was by then too late to become one. When I asked him why he continued to produce me in the same way he always had, by hand, and never sacrificed the level of quality for profit and volume, he said “son, in your life’s work you must trace a line. And then you must stick to it. If you are above the line, it’s ok. But if you are below, it’s no good”.
You can zoom in all you want. Try to find a part of me not finished to perfection. Image © WatchesBySJX.com
Many a watchmaker have tried to work for him over the years. All no doubt talented, well trained. Yet one by one they would disappear. It turns out that line my father drew for himself, the line he expected everyone else to adhere to at whatever cost, was in the stratosphere.
There are those who will tell you I laid the groundwork for many other independent watchmakers, or even the blueprint for their success. Indeed, I have seen quite a few talented watchmakers strike out on their own, most even putting all their effort into crafting a simple, time-only wristwatch with a level of finishing as close to mine as they can pull off. Some have achieved tremendous success, deservedly. The occasional few have focused their efforts on mechanical complication, leaving finishing as an afterthought, or hired marketing teams to craft larger-than-life personas, who compare them to the likes of monsieur Breguet, which I always found funny if not arguably disrespectful to the man. Louis Breguet was above all an engineer, who crafted the most high-tech machines of his time in search of precision. If Breguet were alive today, he would not be working on reinventing centuries old antique technology -he would be making quantum computers.
Count all my angles. I'll wait. Image © WatchesBySJX.com
But I digress. As much as I might prefer some independent watchmakers to others, I am truly amazed that I am in such good company. Thirty years ago, I would never have imagined that so many people would wish to devote their lives to this peculiar craft, or that so many collectors would come to appreciate the smallest of details, and even take macro photos of their watches to compare each other’s bevelling, polishing, interior angles, and the rest. I am no longer on a lonely road, the odd one out, having to explain my existence. And for that, I am grateful.
To the Japanese collectors who supported and understood me form the very beginning, I will forever thank you. To my lucky owners who get to wear me, I hope we get to know each other rather well throughout our journey together. To my #fans on the world wide web, I salute you, and promise I look even sexier in person. And to the auctioneers who now drool over the chance to feature a “first to market, never before seen piece unique Simplicity” every season, we both know you were nowhere to be found during the early days when it would have mattered, though I don’t blame you -I myself didn’t know I would grow up to become the stuff of legend.
Yours,
I, the Simplicity.
Looking To The Future
Legends are hard to kill. What will happen to the Simplicity when its creator retires? For the first time, the watch sat down and granted us an exclusive interview, shedding light into its future and sharing some noteworthy recent updates.
You recently celebrated your 20th anniversary, and your father's 75th birthday. Can you tell us more about it?
Yes. I don't understand what's the big deal with me turning 20. In watch terms, I am still a baby. Maybe ask me again when I turn 200. What made me happy was my father announcing that he would make a series of 22 Simplicities for my 20th Anniversary, so I can't wait to meet my siblings and compare our rounded bevels and mirror polished jewel countersinks.
The first of your new siblings, #00 in pink gold, sold at Phillips in 2020 for CHF 1.36 million. Did that surprise you?
No. You can't put a price on perfection. Besides, I saw the other day on this Internet thingy, a painting sold for more than $100 million. I'm harder to make than that colorful abomination. You humans sure are strange.
Image © Phillips
Image © Phillips
Do you enjoy being the centerpiece of major auctions?
It's bittersweet when owners choose to part with me and hand me over to a random person, but usually the new collector treats me very well and we quickly become friends. Those guys banging a hammer every time I'm sold make me feel like I am being sentenced to something, and for some reason they do their very best to squeeze every Swiss franc they can out of my new owner, which I find a bit strange.
The auction house gets to keep a percentage of the final price, usually close to 30%.
Ouch. Does it take that much strength to bang a gavel? I wouldn't know.
What happens when your father...
Takes a nap on his bench and wakes up in heaven? You can ask me, I am well aware humans come with a "best before" date.
Well, yes. Will we ever see more Dufour watches after that?
Dufour, yes. But not Philippe. Daniela Dufour, his daughter, has recently joined the workshop and is already making Simplicities herself. She is the future.
Image © WatchesTV.com
That's great to hear. Does she plan to make her own watches too?
I don't have lips, but if I did, they would be firmly sealed. Besides, that's way above your paygrade.
Your parents recently launched a charitable foundation, the Philippe & Elisabeth Dufour Foundation. What does that mean to you?
My father always had a big heart. The fact that he decided to support causes that matter to him rather than using the proceeds from auction sales to build a collection of 18-carat gold pipes just goes to show he never did this for money. It's one thing for a watchmaker to donate a watch to charity and call it a day. It's a whole other thing to start his own. That makes me very proud.
For more information, please visit the Philippe & Elisabeth Dufour Foundation.