Bring a Loupe A Lucien Piccard Telephone, A Mappin & Webb Dress Watch, An Omega Admiralty, And A Jaeger LeCoultre Master Mariner

Scorekeeping last week's picks: the ZRC went for €6,000, the Omega Ranchero for €3,500, the Cartier Santos is yet to sell (as of writing), and the Audemars Piguet perpetual calendar went for US$14,000.

Here's an honest-looking early Heuer 844, which, yes, has a worn crystal and bezel, and it 'requires attention' according to the listing. That said, it's got a decent-looking Monnin case, cathedral hands (meaning Mk 1), and a movement that's common enough to be fairly easily resurrected. For those who at some point fell into the Omega Symbol watch rabbit hole, here's a pair of excellent men's versions—this one and that one—and an accompanying pair of women's versions (this and that), and if all of that is gobbledygook to you, count yourself lucky and move along. If you've been hankering for a great-looking 1979 Rolex Milgauss ref. 1019, your time has come.

This is in the running as the prettiest school pocket watch I've seen in a long time, and a good argument for why people should continue investing more time, energy, and money into pocket watches. Bonhams' upcoming New York auction on the 8th has plenty of worthy lots to consider, but I'd be remiss not to note this tropical Excel-O-Graph, this H. Moser & Cie Pioneer Tourbillon Miami, and, for the real curveballers among you, this Patek Philippe Ricochet. If you, like me, have long harboured a soft spot for neo-vintage Girard-Perregaux Sea Hawks, you're spoiled for choice with this blue one and not one but two white options to consider, the latter coming on the original bracelet. Finally, here's an excellent Heuer Navia some dash-timer aficionados should be all over.

A note on this week's picks: auction season's barreling down the track, and you may've seen that there was a quartet of Rolex Daytonas auctioned this week, all of which sold for eye-watering sums. Which is great—they raised a ton of money for charity. But those watches also feel like a subtle reminder to highlight less stratospheric options. This week's watches are all from dealers, and all are priced under US$5k.

Matthew Bain's always a fun browse because of the variety. He regularly offers watches you'd expect, but my experience is that he just as frequently offers deeper cuts from well-known brands that keep you coming back for days (for instance, this AP Royal Oak 6005). Most excellent, however, is that he stocks watches all over the map price-wise, from an almost US$47k Daytona to a US$3,200 Angelus chronograph.

However, for pure pleasure and maximum colour, this Lucien Piccard Telephone takes the cake. Baller, please take a close look at this thing, and someone feel free in the comments to tell me what I'm missing as far as how it's actually used. Clearly it's a multi-time-zone watch in the same way the Hamilton Cross Country was from a few weeks back, but the dial markings—those pluses and minuses—have me stumped.

If you can overlook that it's actually trying to help you function, you're left with an extraordinarily cool and uncommon watch. As noted in the listing, this thing is new old stock and comes with its original box, booklet, and tag, so there's not much to say about condition past that. It's a 35mm stainless steel watch with a fairly standard case and, I suspect, wears just as comfortably as the sort of classic 1960s stainless steel watches lots of us fell (or continue falling) for.

Most wonderfully, the watch has a (presumably rotating) bezel that evades the functionality most of us would expect of it. Printed on it is a list of cities, by region, and their area codes, and if there's a more charming bezel in existence, I've not seen it. For all you Replacement fans, this bezel lets you know, based on his howls at the end of the song, that Westerberg's crush in "Answering Machine" lived in Michigan.

Auden wrote that "poetry makes nothing happen," and, without getting too sappy, this watch feels oddly poetic, maybe only for the anachronism of a bezel that lists only one area code per city (or state). Matthew Bain's offering this watch for US$3,150, and if this one doesn't ring your bell (I'm sorry), he's also got this Girard-Perregaux Gyrodate for even less, which also has a bezel that functions in surprising ways.

Ignore the watch for a minute. Mappin and Webb is one of those ancient enterprises that's been around so long that they made jewellery for everyone from Marie Antoinette to Princess Grace (Kelly) of Monaco. Their first royal commission came from Queen Victoria. They've held Royal Warrants in the UK since 1897.

Okay, onto the watch. Like cicadas, this watch proves something's size need not have a direct relation to the volume it creates. At 25mm wide and 28mm lug-to-lug, the thing is not only 18k gold, but the gold's in an anything-but-subtle curly, ribbon-ish pattern. As if that weren't enough, the dial's split into quadrants, two of which have tiger's-eye patterns (the listing doesn't note that it's a stone dial, so presumably it's not). All of which simply means there are, as of yet, no radars this watch'd fly beneath.

Still, if you're up for a watch with several watches' worth of pizazz, you could do a lot worse than this. It's entirely a dress watch, sans screw-down caseback, so this is only for nights at the opera (or Netflixing and chilling, whatever), but it's also extremely cool. I'm as much of a sucker for purpose-built tool watches as the next guy, but there's something delightful about a watch that has zero interest in any purpose other than looking exotic and telling the time.

Available for US$4,900 from Thillier Time, and if this Mappin and Webb is too discreet for you, Thillier also has a Gerald Genta Mickey Mouse that ups the volume.

This watch is, on the one hand, a fairly common Omega 135.042, better known as an Admiralty. The Admiralty line's got quite a bit of variation—there were references with and without bezels, along with multiple dial colours. For relatively reasonable late-60s/early 70s sport watches, you sort of can't go wrong with the line.

This particular one—available from Avocado Vintage Watches—is one of the earlier ones, as detailed in the title: it's a pre-ancoretta, meaning pre-anchor. Most Admiralties you'll find have a jaunty nautical anchor printed beneath the handstack. This one, obviously, does not.

Add the pre-ancoretta aspect to the huge list of incredibly minor details that make some people extremely enthusiastic about, and about which plenty of people are obsessed (if you know what "double underline" or DO90 means, you're part of this club, like it or not). While the Admiralty's a lovely, excellent watch, I'm unaware of it having secured such market traction that the presence or lack of an anchor quickens the pulse for most, or if that detail carries a premium. That said, these are, after all, watches. Someone must care.

Regardless of how significant the (lack of) printing on the dial might be to anyone, this particular example—available for €2,900—is fantastic because of its condition. It's new old stock, with the purple glob still on the caseback, so there's not much to note about the condition: it's literally all original. Blue dial? Gorgeous. Case? Without flaw. Lume: phenomenal. It also comes on a blue leather Omega strap with an Omega deployant clasp, which is itself not too common. If you've been hankering for a time-capsule Omega Admiralty, this is one heck of a cool option (and if you're interested in another pre-ancoretta, here's another blue one as well).

In 1958, JLC introduced the Master Mariner, their first real attempt at making a legitimate waterproof watch. Given that it was JLC—in 1958, celebrating its 150th anniversary—you can already see that its idea of 'waterproof' didn't overlap with 'sport', at least as the idea of the sport watch was then developing (given the legendary dive and/or waterproof watches that hit the market in the 1950s).

The Master Mariner line itself includes dozens of variations in case material, shape, dial, etc. Should you find yourself short of the funds to pursue one of the legendary JLC sport watches that followed—the Deep Sea Alarm (introduced the next year, in 1959), the Shark, and the Polaris (both introduced later in the 60s)—a Master Mariner, while not presenting as a sports watch, at least represents a serious attempt by a legendary brand to make something more go-anywhere-do-anything than the bulk of what they then produced.

This particular Master Mariner, available from Sabi Watches, is one of the less common iterations you'll find due to the dial. Aside from the fact that it looks in extraordinary condition, it has a two-tone finish, with one half brushed and the other with a satin finish. I've not seen one of these in person, but from the pictures, it seems like the distinction between the two halves almost completely disappears in certain light.

Past that, the dial also has the Jaeger-LeCoultre badge at 9 instead of 12, which is uncommon enough. While Sabi doesn't list the year of this watch, the mid-60s is a good guess, given the mod aesthetic. If the dial doesn't capture you, certainly the case will, given it's absolutely pristine, with freakishly sharp bevels on the lugs. With its original signed crown and screw-down caseback to ease concerns on rainy days, this is a fantastic watch, even at 34mm.

Sabi watches is offering this for €3,900, and if you can't focus on the JLC because you're still enraptured by last week's Cartier Santos "Ghost," be advised Sabi's also got a Cartier Santos Octagon Ghost worth someone's time and energy.