I kept going back to the Sero Signature more than I expected, and that’s a huge compliment. It’s one of those watches that only starts to make sense once you begin placing it against other things you already know, once you start measuring it mentally against references that defined this category in the first place. Not to say that it’s « du vu et revu » as in something we’ve seen before, but to hammer down my point that there’s a clear respect of the traditional way of doing things.

Because whether Sero intended it or not, this watch lives in a space that’s already been written. You don’t approach Breguet numerals, a slim manually wound profile, and a restrained case without inevitably entering the orbit of watches like the Patek Philippe Calatrava ref. 96, the Vacheron Constantin ref. 6073, or even more modern reinterpretations like the F.P. Journe Chronomètre Bleu. Different price brackets, different intentions, but the same underlying language. Again, a compliment.

And that’s where the Signature becomes interesting. Not because it competes with those watches (it doesn’t) but because it clearly understands the framework they established.

The case proportions are the first indicator. 37.5mm is the easy number to read (sweet!), but the 46.5mm lug-to-lug is where the watch really positions itself. It stretches just enough to avoid that compact, almost fragile stance you get with smaller Calatrava-style pieces. It wears more like certain oversized references from the 40s, where lugs carried more visual weight and extended the watch across the wrist. It’s a subtle shift, but it changes the entire posture of the watch.

The 9.5mm thickness is exactly where it should be, and that’s largely due to the Sellita SW210-1. There’s nothing mind blowing about that movement, but from a construction standpoint, it’s coherent. Around 3.35mm in height, manual winding, stable architecture. It allows the case to remain slim without forcing the watch into ultra-thin territory, which often introduces compromises in durability or water resistance; AKA having to take it off to wash your hand. The 100 meters rating here is not just a spec, it tells you the case has been built with actual use in mind. 

But to get into the main part, the dial is where Sero takes a more deliberate position.

Engraving the numerals directly into the dial instead of printing or applying them changes the reading entirely. From a horological perspective, you move from surface decoration to taking away from the material itself. The numerals exist as negative space, and that means light behaves differently. You don’t get the crisp contrast of printed lacquer or the shadow line of applied markers. Instead, you get something more variable, more dependent on angle and intensity.

This is closer, in spirit, to how traditional guilloché dials interact with light, although achieved through machining rather than hand-turned patterns. The vertical brushing underneath adds a directional grain, which keeps the dial from becoming too static while maintaining control over reflections. It’s a measured approach. 

The consistency of execution is what stands out here. The chemin de fer, the numerals, even the signature text all follow the same engraved logic. That avoids the common issue where different techniques compete on the same dial, printed tracks next to applied markers next to stamped logos. Here, everything is resolved within the same surface.

The handset is another area where the watch holds together, and honestly the first thing I noticed. Heat-blued spade hands, correctly dimensioned, doing exactly what they’re supposed to do. The minute hand reaches the track with precision, which is something you’d expect, but not something you always get. The hour hand sits cleanly within the numeral ring, and the seconds hand remains visually light. 

It’s basic watchmaking discipline, but it’s often where watches lose coherence.

Looking at the different dial configurations, the variations don’t try to reinvent the watch. The silver and champagne dials stay closest to classical references, where the engraving becomes more subtle and the watch reads almost like a study in restraint, to be a little more poetic. The blue dial increases contrast and sharpens the overall presence, pushing it slightly closer to contemporary tastes.

The red dial is the outlier, but it still respects the underlying architecture, which keeps it from feeling disconnected. A little different, but different strokes for different folks.

Now, where the Signature really needs to be placed is in its price segment. At around €1,100 to €1,200, it sits in a very competitive space. You’re looking at watches like the Nomos Tangente, the Longines Heritage Classic, vintage Omegas…

Most of those watches take a different route. Nomos focuses on Bauhaus minimalism and in-house calibres, Longines leans heavily into archival design, vintage Omega Genèves are iconic and reliable. Sero doesn’t really sit directly with any of them. It’s closer to what smaller independent or collector-driven brands have been trying to do in recent years, tightening classical codes rather than reinterpreting them.

That’s also where the watch finds a bit of cultural relevance. There’s been a clear shift in the last few years, especially among younger collectors, away from oversized, overly expressive pieces toward something more controlled. Not necessarily vintage, but informed by it. The Signature fits into that movement as a very clear participant.

That doesn’t make it perfect. The “Signature” text still feels slightly more present than it needs to be when you look at how low-key everything else is, and the longer lug-to-lug will not work for every wrist. But when you place it where it actually belongs, within that €1,000 segment, against watches that often get one or two things right and miss the rest, the Signature holds together in a way that’s harder to dismiss.

What was interesting, and something that came up in conversation with Sergino, the founder, after I shared my thoughts, is that none of this is accidental. The positioning, the proportions, even the way the watch sits in this slightly uncomfortable but very deliberate space, it’s all been thought through.

And that also reflects in how they’re bringing it to market. The initial presale starts just under the €1,000 mark, with the first pieces at €899 before taxes, then €999 during the two-week window, before settling at €1,199 retail. It’s a detail worth mentioning because, at that earlier entry point, the watch shifts slightly in how you evaluate it. You’re no longer just comparing it to its immediate peers, you’re looking at it against a much broader field, and in that context, the level of attention given to proportions, dial execution, and overall coherence becomes harder to overlook.

If I were to discribe it in 1 word, I’d say traditional.

Check them out here.

Beda’a — the Qatari and now London based watch brand — just released their new Angles-Stone collection. I’ve wrote previously about their Angles Mecaline collection and my experience with my personal Black “Onyx dial” model. 

And if you go read that article, you’ll find out just how much I’ve been obsessed with that watch. Heck, I’m even wearing it now, on the road to some meetings. 

The Stone Collection however is something special. The Angles is getting 4 new configurations with 4 new stone dials: Malachite, Aventurine, Tiger Eye and African Hawk Eye. Beautiful. 

The new collection is not just an upgrade on the aesthetics, the technical side did get a few changes. 

First thing is the movement. The mecaline, as its name, suggests is mechanical AKA hand wound. The Angles-Stone is quartz, hence the lack of the small seconds subdial. More specifically, it uses a RONDA 1062.1 SLIMTECH. 

I make the comparison because these watches look the same, and I myself was a little surprised by the difference in the movement choice. 

But some private insight tells me that it could potentially join the mechanical path.

Other than that, Togo leather rather than Epsom leather is quite interesting in this context because let’s not forget that this collection is about being grounded and rugged, so to speak. 

My thoughts and feelings? 

Honestly ? I’m happy that the Angles collection keeps evolving and expanding. Beda’a has a great thing going on and I think it’s their canvas for being as creative as possible. They recently made a diamond edition (natural btw) with alligator straps, and this is exactly what I’m talking about.

Beda’a became what it is or who they are by having great designs. So they might as well design as much as they can. 

As for my personal favorite. That African Hawk Eye is as niche as it gets. Brown undertones with all that texture. It really does scratch the itch. 

Check out the full collection on Bedaawatches.com

I have always had a soft spot for brands that meant more than they showed.

 In a landscape where excess is often interpreted as legitimacy, Baume & Mercier has historically done something unfashionable: it stayed within reason. That reasonableness is often mistaken for timidity, or worse, irrelevance. In reality, it is far more difficult to sustain than provoke. Writing about Baume & Mercier today requires resisting the temptation to either nostalgically inflate its past or artificially dramatize its present. Neither is necessary.

The timing of this article matters. Baume & Mercier is at an inflection point, not because of a product launch, but because of a change in ownership that forces a re-evaluation of what the brand has been, what it became, and what it is allowed to be going forward. 

The acquisition by the Damiani Group is a structural event.

To understand its implications, one must first understand the long arc of the brand, and the particular role it has played in Swiss watchmaking for nearly two centuries.

Let’s look at the temporary first (the Damiani acquisition), then dig deep into those centuries of horological prowess.

When Richemont announced the sale of Baume & Mercier to the Damiani Group, the industry response was measured, which in itself is revealing. This was not a fire sale, but a recalibration. Under Richemont, Baume & Mercier occupied a peculiar but deliberate position. It was the group’s entry point into Swiss luxury watchmaking, positioned below the technical and artisanal heavyweights, but anchored in real heritage nevertheless. That positioning, while strategically understandable on paper, became increasingly difficult to defend in a market where the mid-luxury segment was being attacked simultaneously from below by aggressively priced independents and from above by aspirational icons. 

Look at Baume & Mercier like your regular Joe in today’s economy.

In my humble opinion, for Richemont the question was not whether Baume & Mercier lacked legitimacy. It was whether the group still had the structural patience to nurture a brand whose value proposition relied on balance not dominance. The answer, eventually, was no. We all know the Bernard family’s business spirit… even the Patek acquisition is a matter of time nowadays.

For Damiani, this business move is fundamentally different. This is a group whose identity has been built on Italian craftsmanship, emotional luxury, and a strong retail footprint rather than industrial scale watchmaking. Acquiring Baume & Mercier is not about absorbing a watch manufacture into an existing horological ecosystem. It is about adding a Swiss timekeeping pillar to a broader luxury narrative. Culturally, this matters. Strategically, it frees Baume & Mercier from internal comparisons it was never meant to win.

This move does not by any means signal a push toward haute horlogerie. It signals clarity and stability. Baume & Mercier is no longer required to justify its existence within a portfolio of overachievers. It is now asked to be coherent and most importantly itself.

But Where was Baume & Mercier Before the Sale ?

Before the acquisition, Baume & Mercier was stable, respected, and constrained. The brand was doing many things correctly: consistent design language, solid movements, reliable pricing, and one genuinely important technical step forward with the Baumatic calibre. What it lacked was narrative. Not because the story was weak, but because it wasn’t sticking out.

Under Richemont, Baume & Mercier often served as a bridge brand. That role comes with advantages, but also with limitations. Innovation had to be measured. Risks had to be contained. Identity had to remain broad enough to welcome first-time buyers without alienating existing clients. The result was a brand that rarely failed, but also rarely provoked serious debate. And in today’s market, that is a dangerous place to sit. Think of it as a mall brand…

Let’s Reminisce About The Good Ol’ Days.

Baume & Mercier was founded in 1830 by the Baume brothers in the Swiss Jura. Long before the modern luxury industry existed, the brand built its reputation on chronometric precision and international reach, particularly through its London branch, which served the British Empire. The partnership with Paul Mercier in 1918 marked a shift toward design direction and day-to-day elegance, placing the brand firmly within the Geneva tradition.

The Geneva Seal awarded in 1919 confirms that Baume & Mercier was once judged by the same technical and finishing standards as houses that later became untouchable icons. The brand’s historical role is a sort of stabilizer. It absorbed stylistic movements, technical norms, and cultural shifts, and translated them into watches that made sense to wear.

That role should not be underestimated. We all need that good reliable watch.

And with that came the icons.

Riviera 1973

The Riviera is the most misunderstood watch in Baume & Mercier’s history, largely because it arrived at the wrong time to be mythologized correctly. Introduced in 1973, the Riviera is one of the earliest steel sports watches with a distinct shaped bezel and integrated bracelet. Its twelve-sided bezel was architectural, designed to give the watch identity within that 70s Genta era.

Technically, early Rivieras relied on reliable automatic movements. The Riviera was never meant to compete on complication. It competed on relevance and wearability. As I mentioned earlier, it sits comfortably alongside other early steel sports watches of the era, but without the hypr that followed its peers. Its recent revival works precisely because the original concept was never stretched beyond its limits.

Classima 1960s onward

Classima is not a single reference, but an idea that matured into a collection. Emerging from Baume & Mercier’s long tradition of round, restrained dress watches, Classima represents the brand’s most consistent expression of proportion and understatement. An easy to wear gentleman’s dress watch, that’s it.

From a horological standpoint, Classima models used proven automatic and manual movements, prioritizing thinness and legibility. Their importance lies in, again, how easy they are to be worn and be lived with. This is like a Patrimony from Vacheron or early time-only Patek Calatravas ref. 96.

Capeland late 1990s

Capeland marks Baume & Mercier’s attempt to engage with sportier, more masculine watchmaking without abandoning elegance. Introduced in the late 1990s, the line incorporated chronographs, GMTs, and more assertive case profiles. Technically, these watches relied on well-regarded ébauches, often modified, rather than in-house.

The importance of the Capeland is “cultural” rather than mechanical. It reflects a period where Baume & Mercier tested the elasticity of its identity. And the 90s was just the era actually.Some executions were more convincing than others, but the collection demonstrated that the brand could expand without embarrassing itself.

Hampton 1994

Hampton is where Baume & Mercier leaned fully into design. Introduced in 1994, the rectangular case, inspired by Art Deco architecture, was distinguishable. It was a shaped watch committing to proportion.

From a technical perspective, Hampton models were straightforward. Their strength lay in case construction, dial layout, and wearability. Think of it as a Cartier Tank Americaine with a bit more spice.

Clifton 2013 and the Baumatic Era

Clifton initially presented itself as a modern classic, drawing from mid-century cues without nostalgia (Mad Men). Its true importance emerged with the introduction of the Baumatic calibre in 2018. This movement represents the most significant technical investment Baume & Mercier has made in decades.

The movement:

With a five-day power reserve, silicon escapement components (for ease of servicing), improved antimagnetic resistance, and extended service intervals, the Baumatic was intelligent and for the intelligent gentleman. It addressed real-world concerns. It also repositioned Baume & Mercier as a brand capable of meaningful technical decisions without doing too much.

This is where the brand subtly regained credibility among informed collectors.

These are obviously not all the brand’s models and important references, here’s a cool selection of watches from Baume & Mercier’s vast and rich catalog.

Baume & Mercier has never been about trends and hype. And the Damiani acquisition does not rewrite the brand’s history or diminishes it. It actually clarifies it. Freed from the need to compete internally within a watchmaking conglomerate, the brand has the opportunity to sharpen its voice. And let’s be honest, a brand like this belongs within that Italian spirit of valuing quality basics. Tiktok does not have to ruin everything guys.

And let me be clear,there is space in horology for brands that do not shout, that do not chase extremes, that understand their role and execute it with discipline. Baume & Mercier has done this before. The question now is not whether it can reinvent itself, but whether it can finally commit to being exactly what it is.

More brand and reference deep dives will follow. That’s the 2026 spirit, valuing what matters not what’s trending.