“Tell us about your collection so far. … What do you know about these watches? Do you know why this one is sought after? If you were going to sell it, not that you would, but how much do you think it would sell for? Why should we sell this to you instead of the next person to walk through the door?”
It was a conversation eerily familiar to anyone who has ever tried to buy a Rolex “Daytona” at an authorized dealer. The list price for a plain stainless-steel Daytona is $14,800, and that’s what the dealer is supposed to charge, but the minute you hit the parking lot, you’re free and clear to sell it for between $25,000 and $29,000 online. For that reason, the “ADs” (authorized dealers) who sell Rolex have turned the process of buying a Daytona into something between an Ivy League entrance exam and a scene from a John Frankenheimer film. Would-be owners are forced to demonstrate their enduring fidelity via the purchase of other, less desirable watches. They’re threatened with blacklisting should their individually serialized watch hit the resale market. In some cases, they’re expected to prove their continued ownership of the Daytona and, in exchange, are given a chance to buy another one.
However, in this case, the question-and-answer session took place not in the hushed display area of an upscale jeweler but on the floor of the New York New York casino. The watch being discussed had a retail price of just $270 and sported the odd name of “Mission To Neptune.” The interrogator was a bored young woman earning retail wages, not a canny jeweler trying to sniff out a five-figure flip. However, make no mistake. At least in terms of percentages, this was an opportunity to humble any Rolex resale. This was what happened when someone I know tried to buy a rare Swatch.
The story thus far: On March 26, 2022, the Swatch Group released a series of 11 plastic, battery-powered watches that aped the look of the far more expensive and prestigious Omega Speedmaster. It was the biggest news in the business that year, and for good reason. There is always the risk of a Swiss watchmaker making a profitable but image-destroying move downmarket. Right now, the least expensive Vacheron Constantin costs $12,700 — if you can get it for that price, which you can’t. However, at any moment, Richemont, which owns the brand, could put Chinese-made “Vacherons” on the shelves at Target for $99 a pop.
In 1984, Omega was acquired by the company that would eventually become the Swatch Group. For 38 years, anxious Omega owners dreaded the day that someone would look at their $34,700 Sedna Gold Moonphase Speedmaster and ask, “Did you get that at the mall?” Yet when the “Omega x Swatch MoonSwatch” finally appeared in a very small selection of Swatch retail shops, it proved to have an opposite effect. The Swatches were reminiscent of, but hardly identical to, the real thing. Over a million were sold in the first year, many to people who were “test driving” the idea of something besides an Apple or Samsung watch and who then went on to buy real stainless-steel Omegas. Sales at Omega boutiques jumped by as much as 50%.
A lot of smart people expected that, to be honest. What nobody expected was that one of the original 11 of these Swatches would turn out to be a collectors’ item selling for up to 10 times the original retail price. The MoonSwatches are made from Bioceramic, a patented material that is about half castor-bean-derived polymers and about half ceramic powder. That material is then dyed into one of 11 different colors. Popular opinion was that the gray-dyed “Mission To The Moon” would be the most sought-after MoonSwatch since it was closest in appearance to a real Omega, and that initially proved to be the case.
However, shortly after the MoonSwatch introduction, Swatch realized that the blue-dyed “Mission To Neptune” was staining wrists and clothing. It was pulled from the market to fix the problem, which started a frenzy among the collectors whose goal of having all 11 MoonSwatches had just hit a serious bump in the road. Resale prices soared to $2,500 and beyond, the equivalent of a Daytona selling for $150,000. And Daniel Craig wore a Neptune to one of his film premieres. After about a year, Swatch returned an improved Neptune to the lineup but in limited and uncertain quantities. It has continued to fetch good money in resale, as collectors work to finish their sets of the original 11.
One of those collectors is my brother, who owns over a dozen “real” prestige watches from Omega, Tudor, and Grand Seiko but also has an unpublishable number of Swatches from deep vintage to the brand-new “Blancpain x Swatch” collaboration that leverages another Swatch Group brand into the mass market at the even more ambitious price of $400. (The fact that the Blancpain Swatch is derived from the original and legendary “Fifty Fathoms” Swiss watch has earned it the dismissive but affectionate nickname of “Thrifty Fathoms.”) A few weeks ago, he visited a Swatch boutique to buy a few new models, a trip he makes about a dozen times a year. He was particularly hoping to get the new “Ocean of Storms” Blancpain tribute. Which wasn’t available, but … would Sir be interested in a Neptune?
Yes, Sir would. It was the only one of the original 11 he didn’t own. Cue the arrival of a store manager and the qualifying interview that heads this article. “I was already wearing a Swatch Ocean,” he noted, “which I think helped. And I had photos of my collection.” A few more awkward questions later, he was out the door with the distinctive blue “Mission To Neptune” box in a new Swatch vinyl bag.
“Are you going to sell it?” I inquired, which was meant to be hilarious because, although my brother has bought a hundred watches, I’ve never seen him figure out how to sell one.
“Not a chance.” In truth, the gradual trickling of Neptunes into the market has depressed the price a bit. Transaction prices in the secondary market are sinking. A new-in-box model can still fetch $500-plus, but once you wear it, you’ll be hard-pressed to get more than $350, largely because the transparent plastic “crystal” covering the face of the watch is depressingly easy to scratch.
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(Which is vintage-correct, in a way. The original Omega Speedmaster worn on the moon had a plastic crystal instead of the sapphire-glass crystal found in most good Swiss timepieces because NASA didn’t want to run the risk of shattered glass in zero gravity.)
Readers who are inspired to try a MoonSwatch of any planet or color by this article will find out that there’s a nice watch behind all the hype. It weighs almost nothing, it’s accurate, and it’s fun to wear. “What kind of idiot wears a $270 plastic fake Omega when he has a real one at home?” I wondered, prior to giving in and buying a “Mission To Saturn.” The answer: the kind of idiot who wants to ride mountain bikes or spin a wrench on a car or do any of the many other tasks that are made less pleasant by wearing a 9-ounce chunk of easily damaged stainless steel. This is the genius of the MoonSwatch, both today and on the day the collectors eventually cool their jets: Unlike its $15,000 counterparts in the luxury boutiques, it’s perfectly suited for all those missions that never leave the ground.
Jack Baruth was born in Brooklyn, New York, and lives in Ohio. He is a pro-am race car driver and a former columnist for Road and Track and Hagerty magazines who writes the Avoidable Contact Forever newsletter.