My watch, my story.

In the vintage watch collecting scene we like to use (and abuse) the term "they don't make 'em like they used to". While this is usually used to show disdain for the lack of heart in making modern watches, the same sentiment could also be said for the hobby of vintage watch collecting today. In a nostalgic sit-down with a longtime friend, seasoned collector and bona fide pioneer of the Singapore vintage watch scene, we reminisced on how things used to be, and offered up our own interpretations of how it's become what it is now.

Warning: LONG post coming up. Images (not writing) courtesy of ChatGPT.

Watch Collecting - an AI interpretation off the prompts of a nostalgic fool.

The concurrence is that there is a lack of soul. When I look at a vintage watch, what goes through my mind isn't the investment value of the watch. The wandering eye is searching for that x-factor in the watch - Is the dial a special material or print? Are the hands a special or uncommon shape? Are there names engraved on the case back that could tell a story about how the watch might be handled? Has the dial aged artistically? Each watch is a story waiting to be unfolded, reenacted, and retold. I just had to find it. If a particular watch has a good story, I'll consult my bank account and do some quick math (something that I am not very good at) before I pull the trigger. No doubt, one usually decides to, and condemns himself to throw down a bulk of his hard earned salary when it comes to a hobby. When it comes to vintage watches, I happily trade my cash for the one-of-a-kind watch; the experience of tracking, admiring and purchasing it; and the memories the watch gives as I own and share it with like-minded collectors. To the extent that when I look at my watch boxes now, I get the chance to relive many of the years and lessons learnt about collecting watches, vintage ones in particular.

A chance find is as good as any, and probably the best you'll ever get.

It was a blistering hot day (Singapore is kinda known for this, but this day was really the pits), and I was out and about in Chinatown with the family to admire the Chinese New Year decorations. With elderly mother in tow, we decided to take a break and seek refuge in a nearby air conditioned building - Lucky Chinatown. I've never really stepped foot inside before; I had thought the place to be somewhat of a shady joint with shops that sell knock-off perfume and fake jade. Or a hair stylist that charges you an arm not to lob off your locks once you're gullible enough to sit down.

Curiosity (or boredom) got the better of me and I took a look at the mall directory. I wasn't that far off about the hair stylist (who probably also part-timed as a tattoo artist and pyramid scheme health product guru), and there were more jewelry shops than people looking for jewels. A name caught my eye though - Ray Vintage Watches. Oh! Now I have a reason to venture. (Disclaimer: it's been a few years since he retired and moved out so I might have gotten the name wrong!)

I thought about my elderly mum and gave the visit a second thought, but trusted my gut and went down to the store for a quick look.

There wasn't a bell when you swung open the door, but the atmosphere sure felt like that of a back alley merchant. It was a neatly decorated shop with a small selection of vintage watches in the display, as well as shelves within the store. If I could describe the inventory of the store, it would be a smattering of many types of watches, across many categories, suitable for many levels of collectors. The owner, Ray, stood patiently behind the counter while another customer gave me and my mum the eye for intruding on their peace. Very welcoming.

I was greeted with a smile and asked to look around and ask questions if I had had any. A quick (there weren't many watches on display anyway) look around and my eyes set upon a solid gold Omega Constellation Pie Pan. I took it home, after paying for it of course.

That watch would be the start of my journey with Mr Raymond Wong, one of Singapore's foremost experts in vintage watches and a well-respected pioneer in the industry. Many of the established dealers in Singapore started out as his customers, and many vintage collectors here would have interacted with him at least once.

Always friendly, always helpful, and very willing to share a story or two about watches - I see Ray as a mentor when it comes to vintage watches. Before him, I was an enthusiast who read and perused websites for would-be finds. After him, I am a proud owner of several unique pieces of history with a keen eye for a good vintage piece.

He's exposed me to so many different types of vintage watches and allowed me to interact and own a sizable number of them. Collecting wouldn't be the same without personally handling the watches, and having someone there to share knowledge and wisdom really helps to up your game.

You never know what you're looking for, but you should always be looking.

That single stumble into the store turned into weekly visits that lasted hours on end. For a store with a limited inventory, one must wonder where the heck I was spending all the hours and money on!

Turns out that Ray operated that place like a local fish market - the catch is small, but always fresh and updated very regularly. He has an acumen for business that made him many lasting friends and regular customers. It wasn't uncommon to see several folks drop by his store despite the absolute abyss of a location he put himself in.

The ritual is always the same, the slow cautious walk to the storefront, like they were afraid of being followed and their secret hideout divulged; the craned neck and darting eyes as they scrutinized the window display; the slow push of the glass door and casual walk to the counter as though they had no expectations. Then inevitably the question pops, "Hey Ray, anything new?"

That's the sense of mystery and anticipation that you get from visiting. And imagine if there were new pieces to gawk at! You'd always want to be the first to the line, the person sitting in the store when new watches came to stock, because that meant first pickings. "The early bird catches the worm" has never been more true.

Perhaps it's this randomness that gave me my philosophy in collecting that relegates the hunt to midnight impulse buys and frenzied internet searches. There's not a lot of good that comes from all that - there's a predisposition to make hasty and regretful decisions just because you've spent the time and effort to hunt down the hallowed watch of legend.

I'd much rather pop by a store and see what's in stock, take my time to view and handle said pieces, have a chat with other collectors about it, and then make the decision over a cup of coffee. That experience is way better to me.

Life is like a visit to your favorite vintage watch shop; you never know what you're going to get.

It's more fun when you share.

There are two seats for visitors to the store - one high stool next to the counter where Ray would sit, and another to the side that places your back to the display.

Both seats allow you to glance at the watches on display as you converse with the owner about anything under the sun. Somehow the topic always veers towards vintage watches. Strange. Must be the water.

Taking the seats is a self-invite to the wonderful world of watch talk - better than any podcast, a visit to Hodinkee, or a scurry down watch forums. This watch talk / forum / education is live and in-person, with physical watches to examine and view. It comes with live commentary from experienced collectors (the quality varies based on who walks in) about watch collecting history in Singapore, the different types of watches that relate the one being discussed, and inevitably into boasts about the watch on their wrist and their private collections.

You get to change the topic too - just pick up another watch and ask about it. The collectors are more than willing to share.

Oh, and when a walk-in enters! I remember my first time into the store, but this time I get to be the one eyeing the stranger, wondering why the heck the fella's disturbing our conversation in our little club. What bigotry!

But also like my first time there, friends are quickly made and conversations resume. And should the stranger buys a watch, we've got a new member! Vintage watch collecting is a wonderful hobby that gets even better when you have the company of distinguished kin.

Go beyond the hobby.

It doesn't stop when the store closes either - there's always an invite to coffee, or a walk to the bus stop before we all go our different ways. The discourse continues, the passion never stops.

We go home with new knowledge about the watches we own and the pieces we coveted. I believe this to be more enriching than a visit down the internet rabbit hole, where you might get expert advice on how to spot a fake dial and which parts of the movements were replaced.

When you see a watch enough times, you're going to know a fake one when you see it. It's like the old Chinese saying, "don't ask me how I know, I just know."

These experiences gave me so much more passion - I learn how to clean the hands and dials of my watches, how to adjust bracelets and wipe down cases. Basically quick fixes that allow you to maintain the health of your watches.

Deeper appreciation. That's what I feel when I get home and handle my own watches. There are a set of watch tools and projects that I have stashed away, waiting for the day I want to get my hands dirty. I've taken apart and reassembled Seiko and Swiss automatics, and that was an awesome experience that made me feel even closer to this hobby I so love.

So it's really not just the buying, or owning of watches. Being a collector has all these packed into one photo album of an experience.

And now that the store's closed, I've migrated to home visits, where a select few of his regulars are welcome to once again relive the memories in a bite-sized setting. The crowd's missing; the excitement of the walk-in has vanished; and inventory has all but staled, but we grasp at the wickers of our burning passion, the smoke of temptation weaving through our desperate fingers. There's no wax, but we leave with the scent of satisfaction.

No matter how busy life gets, or how jaded I am of the hobby, a trip down to Ray's will bathe me again in nostalgia and tempt me once again to turn back time and become that bewildered youth that chanced upon his shop in the middle of Chinatown.