The Time+Tide team picks their favourite watch complications

Borna Bošnjak

Complications are one of those aspects of watchmaking that someone who’s not a regular watch nerd just might not get. And, being completely aware of potential gatekeeping, this stems from actual conversations I’ve had, trying to explain why using my phone as a stopwatch just isn’t as cool as clicking the buttery smooth pushers of a 50-year-old chronograph. While I stay oblivious to the fact that servicing costs will have their way with me, outright declaring what the best watch complication is, well, complicated. So, in classic T+T team picks fashion, why not have the entire team weigh in with what they think is best? True to form, we also can’t agree on one thing…

Jamie’s pick: GMTs

My favourite complication is an easier answer: I love GMT watches. Not only are they practical (especially for someone like me who works with colleagues across multiple time zones), but there’s just something fundamentally romantic and glamorous about a GMT. When you’re overseas, they’re a glamorous tool that elevates your travel experience. But when you’re back home, they remind you of the pleasures of travel and the fond memories you’ve made along the way. They’re also a way of reminding you of family and friends across the world.

For me, it comes down to how often you actually use a complication. How often do you actually use the timing bezel on a dive watch to track a dive, for instance? Hell, I frequently find myself checking my watch to check the date more often than the time. However, it’s hard to keep track of time in different time zones mentally, so having an immediate reminder on one’s wrist is enormously helpful.

Zach’s pick: minute repeaters

While it may have served a practical purpose in a pre-luminous material era of watchmaking, the minute repeater is arguably the most useless complication in watchmaking today. That being said, its obsolescence – and the lengths watch manufacturers will go to realise such an obsolescent complex mechanical marvel – is romantic and charming. The musicality of the complication is also very interesting, with manufacturers creating repeaters with different chime patterns and pitches – as well as experimenting with case materials to refine the acoustics of the chimes.

Perhaps my German heritage is the thing to blame here: glockenspiel clocks always amused me as a young child. And, as you visit various cities around the world, hearing the incredible musical chimes from churches, for example, is always a beautiful moment in a crowded urban street. For me, the minute repeater complication embodies what many of us love about mechanical watchmaking. Sure, there are plenty of more capable devices that tell us the time. But the artistry of watchmaking, the preservation of a traditional craft, and the praise these artisans deserve for designing, decorating, and assembling such micro-mechanics is ultimately what we watch geeks live for.

Russell’s pick: moonphases

There has already been plenty of talk here about how romantic complications can be, whether they chime, jump, or simply remind you of home. But to me, tracking the phases of the moon is the epitome of romance when it comes to adding functionalities to a watch. While the information it provides the wearer is almost completely useless, the aesthetic charm a moonphase brings to a dial is unmatched – in my opinion.

There are many, many ways to execute one, too. We have seen examples that take up half the dial, some that have been hand-hammered to add texture, and some with cartoon characters attached to add a level of levity to the entire affair… But the classical, high shine, high contrast, polished moonphase will always be something I can never ignore on a watch. The fact that you will usually find them in a perpetual calendar is an added bonus to us all.

Borna’s pick: Harry Winston Opus 3 (jumping seconds)

This is very specific, but bear with me. I’m totally on board with the notion that complications should be useful, but when there’s a complication that’s as cool as the Harry Winston Opus 3, I can’t be rational. This watch has been mentioned in a few T+T articles recently (coincidentally written by myself), the idea behind it being a mechanically powered jumping seconds mechanism. Now, that doesn’t sound that complex in itself, but it very much is. The Opus 3 was the very first watch to have this feature, but given its restrictive power reserve, a four-second countdown would appear in the top left aperture, stowing away after counting from 56 to 59. So, in the picture above, the time is 10:10, on the 25th of the month.

The complication itself is groundbreaking and unique, but perhaps even better is the story behind it. Masterminded by Vianney Halter in 2003, it was notoriously unreliable and would eventually see the Swiss master watchmaker leave the project, passing it onto Renaud & Papi who would take another decade to complete it.

Buffy’s pick: no complication

Within my own limited means, I’ve run the gamut of complications. Power reserves, pointer dates, chronographs, reversing cases, and GMTs have all entered my collection one way or another, and then been sold. I can get excited over a complication I haven’t tried yet easily, however once I’ve fiddled with it a few times, all of the novelty falls away and I’m left with a joyless distraction. The only watches that don’t lose their novelty after the honeymoon phase are the ones promising nothing except for their aesthetic design.

Of course, I believe that complications have their place: this is purely about personal taste and my own wearing habits. I’m happiest with a two-handed watch, although a seconds hand won’t ruin it for me. Date displays are admittedly very useful, however, if you’re forgetful enough to lose track of the date like me, then you’re probably forgetful enough to adjust the date whenever it’s incorrect. It’s also funny to consider that a “complication” in engineering terms is almost always considered a bad thing. Anything that reduces the efficiency of a mechanism – in this case a watch movement – is introducing new possibilities of failure and added strain on important components. There’s also so much opportunity for experimental visual design when you don’t need to worry about fitting something in, and I’ll never have to look at a 4:30 date window again.