On the enduring appeal of the Nautilus

Gerald Genta drew the Nautilus in one night, famously sketching it on a paper napkin after Patek Philippe came to him with a brief that amounted to: we need a sports watch, we have no time, and it needs to be unlike anything that exists. That it is still unlike anything that exists, fifty years on, is either a testament to Genta's genius or to the peculiar conservatism of the watch industry. I suspect both.

What strikes me, looking at my 5711 beside early examples I have handled at auction, is how little has changed and how much that restraint has cost the brand. Patek Philippe spent decades being quietly embarrassed by the Nautilus — it was the populist piece, the one that sold too easily, the one collectors with more esoteric tastes overlooked. Now, of course, it is the piece that defines the marque to the world. The waiting lists that preceded its discontinuation were as absurd as they were inevitable.

I don't think rarity is the point. The Nautilus has always rewarded the person who bought it because they wanted to wear it, not because they wanted to sell it. That might sound obvious, but it isn't — not today. If you find one at a sensible price, buy it because you love it. The market will do what it does regardless.