If I Could Only Keep Three

I do AMAs on my @midlifecrisiswatches Instagram account every few months. Twenty-four hours, open questions, no filters. The watchfam always brings good ones, but a question came in during my last session that I've been thinking about ever since.

"If you had to boil your collection down to three wearable watches, what would they be?"

The constraint is what made it interesting. I've already gone from 140 watches down to 40. That culling process was its own exercise in clarity. But three? Three is a different kind of discipline. And the person asking was smart enough to specify wearable, which changed everything. This wasn't a thought experiment about the most impressive pieces in my watchbox. It was about which three I'd actually put on my wrist.

Here's where I landed.

Rolex Submariner 5513 (1971, Non-Serif Dial)

I found this one through Stef at Falco Watches. It's a 1971 Non-Serif dial, and the lume plots are just starting to turn. That warm, creamy shift is one of the things that makes vintage Rolex what it is, and on this particular reference, it feels exactly right.

The 5513 is my GADA. Go-anywhere, do-anything. It has personality and presence without demanding attention. I wear it with t-shirts and sweaters mostly. Occasionally with a button-down, where it adds a sporty kick without looking out of place. It's not a dress watch and I'd never pretend it is, but it can dress up a notch when it needs to. In a three-watch collection, it earns its spot as the vintage steel tool watch that gets the most wrist time.

Parmigiani Fleurier Tonda Minute Rattrapante

This was one of my first purchases at Shreve, Crump & Low, and it's still one of my better ones. The Tonda Minute Rattrapante was my entry point into serious independent horology, and it holds up.

The case is stainless steel and platinum. The complication hand is 18k rose gold. The dial is sand gray, which is one of those colors that works with essentially everything. I run it on a matching PF rubber strap but the bracelet is gorgeous too.

Full disclosure: I never use the rattrapante complication. It's there, it's impressive, and I appreciate that they built it. But it's not something I reach for. What I love about this watch is everything else. It dresses up or down without effort. It's completely understated. It doesn't announce itself. It holds its own at a Knicks game and in a boardroom and I appreciate it for just that.

Laurent Ferrier Classic Moon Silver

I spotted this one in the Shreve, Crump & Low salon before I ever owned it. It sat in the case as a grail watch for a while. When the opportunity came, I took it.

The Laurent Ferrier Classic Moon Silver gives me a reaction that very few watches do. Every time I put it on, there's a moment. A genuine "pinch me" feeling. Some of that is the total package of LF's fit and finishing, which is as good as it gets. But what really stops me is the caseback and seeing the visible movement beneath. On the front, I admire the way the windows for the day and date are cut, the lines and edges around them. It's not just functional. It's considered in a way you don't see at this level very often. Maybe 37+ years at Patek Philippe teaches you this.

The day-date complication on the dial is one of my favorites in any watch I own. The moonphase is beautiful. The red gold case is warm and distinctive without being loud. I wear this one to more formal events and on fall and winter evenings when I want something that feels special.

Two Watches That Almost Made It

If I were swapping one out, the A. Lange & Söhne Lange 1 192.029 or the Rolex Daytona Panda would step in for the Parmigiani Tonda. Both would fill a similar role. The Daytona Panda works because the white and black dial has the same neutral quality as the sand gray on the PF Tonda. It sits quietly and goes with everything. The Lange 1 earns it a different way. It's a strap monster. Put it on leather, on rubber, on a suede, and it becomes a completely different watch. That versatility is hard to argue with.

But the Tonda held on.