Buying and collecting watches is part of our DNA at WatchGecko. Equally a part of that process is selling. Very few of us are lucky enough to have unlimited budgets, so we may have to sell to fund a new model. Some of us have a one-in-one-out rule. Or maybe we are simply fed up with a model and have outgrown it. There are many reasons to sell, yet deciding to part with a watch is rarely easy and can be fraught with agony. Regrets: we’ve had a few, so here are our collective thoughts on watches we wish we had never sold.
Richard
IWC Aquatimer Galapagos Gen 1
IWC Aquatimer Galapagos Gen 1. Credit: Guest Author.
IWC Aquatimer Galapagos Gen 1. One of those watches that seemed beautiful at the time, yet sadly became easy to fall out of love with. The 2010 Miami Vice movie had just come out, and Lewis Hamilton was fast. The Volvo Ocean Cup was in town, as was F1, and the boats and cars were wondrous to behold. What did they all have in common? IWC Schaffhausen. Either on the wrists of Crockett and Tubbs or emblazoned on futuristic hulls, the brand seemed everywhere, and I was caught hook, line and sinker.
The fully vulcanized rubber-coated Galapagos Aquatimer was an amazing machine which seemed to be the toughest IWC on the market. It looked cool, and there was nothing like it. Yet a few years later, it looked very 2010 and notably less cool. The rubber was marking badly, and the propriety strap would cost hundreds of pounds to replace. The whole package frustrated me. So, the IWC and I parted company for shockingly little money, as it wasn’t “trendy” anymore, I was told. A final insult.
FFWD to 2024, and I miss the watch. It was unique, well made and always commented on. I’d love to have it back. It represented an era in watch evolution. I wonder where in the world the watch is and truly hope its new owner appreciates it better than I did. They have a great watch on their hands that I wish I had kept.
Martin
Seiko SARB033 "Baby Grand Seiko"
Seiko SARB033. Credit: WatchGecko.
I’m not generally a big believer in regrets but I will admit to being rather personally niggled by some selling (also knee-jerk purchasing and missed opportunity purchasing) transactions over the years. I could list a handful, from Marloe’s bargain price debut model, the Cherwell, to a Bulova Lunar Pilot (first edition) and a rare Citizen ProMaster ‘Ray Mears’ original, but my biggest regret is quite probably parting ways with my Seiko SARB033, often nicknamed the ‘Baby Grand Seiko’.
I purchased this extremely popular fan-favourite from a well-known grey-importer into the UK in 2017 and paid a mere £215 for it, which at the time was a good £100 cheaper than those sold by most Japanese dealers. Those tracking values will know this model now goes for at least £500, that is if you can get hold of one. As they’re no longer in production they’re becoming rarer, and equally, more pricey.
Seiko SARB033. Credit: WatchGecko.
At the time this was probably my most expensive purchase. I had yearned for this for a number of years and when the item became in stock, I jumped at the chance to order. But sometimes, the chase is often better than the catch and although I liked the watch, it didn’t appeal quite as much as hoped and within 18 months or so I sold it on – for under the price I paid; someone got lucky and bagged an investment and my watch box is now, stupidly, without a SARB033 inside it. Never mind, scouring the likes of eBay will one day allow me to own one again for sure, even if I do have to pay around 3x what I originally paid. Thank goodness though it wasn’t a Rolex!
Neil
Ollech & Wajs P-104
Ollech & Wajs P-104. Credit: Guest Author.
For the past five years, I've been seriously collecting watches, primarily focusing on dive watches. During this time, I've built up quite a collection, but I've also sold 21 pieces. Each sale was motivated by the simple fact that I fell out of love with or lost interest in the watch.
I personally don't view watches as financial investments; instead, they're an expression of my personality and evolving taste. Over the years, my preferences have matured, as have I. However, there's one watch I regret letting go of—the Ollech & Wajs P-104.
Ollech & Wajs, established in 1956, has produced some remarkable timepieces, and the P-104 caught my eye as something unique that would complement my collection perfectly. I styled it with an orange rubber strap matching the hour markers at 12, 3, and 9, which stood out beautifully against the black dial and I really loved the chequered minute hand.
Despite initially loving it, over time, I found myself wearing the P-104 less frequently. Eventually, I realized it felt too pristine compared to my other weathered watches, so I decided to part with it. At the time, this seemed the right thing to do, and now as I look back, I know it was the right thing.
While I haven't regretted any of my sales thus far, had I kept the P-104, I would have enjoyed making it my own with personalised marks and wear. Maybe I will look out for one in a less pristine condition next time.
Rob
Panerai Radiomir 1940 limited edition
I’m pretty good at moving on. For someone who suffers from “invasive nostalgia”, as I term it, I don’t dwell on the past too much. I value my experiences and sometimes wish I could feel the same way as I did in my younger years again, but I’ve no desire to repeat the same actions. Rather, I’d like to find new things that give me the same feeling. Therefore, looking back on the many watches I loved and let go rarely sires any such feeling of regret. Pride? Yes. Respect for those watches and the times we shared? Of course. But regret? No. Well, not often…
With a gun to my head, I’d have a better chance of naming all the US Presidents in order than I would of listing even half the watches I’ve sold in my life. To remind myself of the watches that once called my watch box home, I trawled through my Instagram account (@robnudds) to refresh my memory. It was revelatory. I’d forgotten so many pieces — enough to comprise a collection on their own.
Panerai Radiomir 1940 limited edition. Credit: Guest Author.
I didn’t miss any of them at all. But there was one piece I must admit I’d like to spend a bit more time with. It isn’t that I long for this watch or wonder why I sold it (I was in pretty dire financial straits at the time and it was a no-brainer to cash out on everything I didn’t actively need), but it was a watch I’d never planned on acquiring and one that not only impressed me more than I’d expected it to, but also turned out to be the very best ambassador for a brand I never thought I’d own.
The Panerai Radiomir 1940 limited edition. I acquired it in a trade with a pre-owned dealer in Budapest. I swapped him 13 pieces from various microbrands for the Panerai, averring that I had but one wrist and an ever-reducing patience for poor craftsmanship. It was a crazy watch to basically get for nothing (at least that’s what it felt like).
It has the clean Radiomir dial, the Rolex-style crown, the solid lugs more commonly associated with the Luminor line (but without the OTT crown guard that, ironically, winds me up), and Goldilocks sizing. For my 16.5 cm wrist, most 44/45 mm Panerai watches are a bit big, but this one, coming in at a relatively dainty 42, hit the sweet spot.
It wasn’t the “best” or most expensive watch I’ve ever sold, but it is the one I perhaps let go a shade too early. I’m a fan of moving on just before you lose interest in something rather than just after because I like it to hurt a bit. I like to feel like I’m in control of the situation, that I’m making a choice rather than the choice having been made for me by time. I like to own the process and, in most cases, I’m able to do just that. On the occasion of the Panerai, however, life forced my hand just a little quicker than I would have liked.
Happily, its new owner was thrilled by it. He wears it regularly as it is his only luxury watch and one for which he’d been searching for years. In that sense, I cannot regret it at all. But, if I ever find myself rolling in cash, it might — just maybe — be the one watch I’d buy again…
