To be fair, the ebb and flow of watch production isn’t exactly a modern phenomenon. Brands have been sunsetting references for decades—sometimes with good reason (poor sales, changing tastes, quartz crises), and other times seemingly on a whim, as if guided by a dartboard in a Geneva boardroom. The post-war boom saw mechanical innovation flourish, only for the quartz era to flatten entire product lines overnight. Then came the ‘90s and early 2000s, when many mechanical models tiptoed back into production, albeit often awkwardly styled and short-lived.
What’s changed more recently is the culture around discontinuation. Watches used to quietly vanish from catalogues, perhaps fondly remembered by the odd collector or forum thread. Now, the disappearance of a beloved reference can spark an online outcry, meme treatment, or in some cases, a speculative bubble on secondary markets. The archive is no longer dusty—it’s digitised, dissected, and occasionally monetised to death.
And still, for all the talk of heritage and continuity, plenty of excellent models have slipped through the cracks. Not just icons, but everyday heroes: timepieces that nailed their brief and connected with wearers in ways a marketing deck never could. These are the ones we’re still thinking about—the ones we’d queue up for if they ever came back (and maybe even forgive the price hike if they didn’t muck up the design).
So, while revival season shows no signs of slowing down, here’s our short but heartfelt list of watches that deserve a second act. No gimmicks, no retro spin—just solid watchmaking that was gone too soon.
Universal Genève Polerouter (1954–late 1960s)
There are few watches that so effortlessly capture the spirit of mid-century watchmaking like the Polerouter. Born in 1954 and originally created to celebrate Scandinavian Airlines’ pioneering polar flights, it arrived with the quiet confidence of a future classic—helped, of course, by the fact that it was designed by a 23-year-old Gérald Genta.
Over its lifespan into the late 1960s, the Polerouter went through a number of variations—some admittedly more appealing than others—but at its core was always a clean, architectural dial, a finely sculpted case, and eventually, one of the first micro-rotor automatic movements to hit the market. It’s a watch that didn’t need to shout to be memorable. In a time when heritage reissues are all the rage, the continued absence of a Polerouter revival feels like a missed trick—and a frustrating one, at that. If Universal Genève ever claws its way back into relevance—a very-possible thing given now-owner Breitling's retro-fuelled releases this year—this should be the model leading the charge.
Cartier Bamboo Coussin (1970s–mid 1970s)
One of Cartier’s more curious creations from the ‘70s, the Bamboo Coussin blended Eastern-inspired design with Parisian elegance in an unmistakably gold cushion case. Produced in limited runs—only around 250 examples of the larger ref. 78102 ever rolled off the line—this cushion-shaped timepiece echoed the segmented form of bamboo shoots while retaining classic Cartier cues: lacquered Roman‑numeral dials, sword hands, cabochon crowns and a discreet “PARIS” signature . Power came from a hand-wound Cartier calibre 78‑1 (ETA‑based), in both yellow and rarer white gold variants . Though production was short-lived and its original run virtually disappeared without fanfare, the watch has seen a resurgence on auction blocks, most notably when it sold for about USD 118k in late 2024 .
What really cements its place in a comeback list, though, isn’t just scarcity or rarity—it’s style, and a surprising modern twist: NBA star Tyrese Haliburton has been spotted courtside wearing a Bamboo Coussin, reminding the world that this isn’t just vintage fluff, but a serious choice for a bold wrist statement . It’s high time Cartier reintroduce this delightfully offbeat classic—not as novelty, but as a testament to the brand’s daring design heritage.
Patek Philippe Ref. 2487 ‘Cioccolatone’ (1950–early 1950s)
Patek Philippe doesn’t exactly go around making “statement watches,” but the Ref. 2487—nicknamed the Cioccolatone—was a rare and glorious exception. Introduced in 1950, this ultra-thin, oversized square watch came in an arresting two-tone case: yellow gold and platinum, brought together with a level of restraint and elegance that only Patek could pull off. Just two examples are known to exist publicly—one residing in the Patek Philippe Museum, the other recently surfacing in collector circles with its original silvered dial and platinum indexes confirmed by extract.
That level of rarity would normally relegate it to the realm of curiosity, but the Ref. 2487 still feels surprisingly wearable today. It’s bold but architectural, dramatic but not brash (unlike another modern squarish Patek). It could easily slot into the modern Patek lineup—perhaps under the watchful eye of their Rare Handcrafts division—with minimal changes needed. In a market that’s slowly rediscovering the appeal of unconventional case shapes and elegant proportions, a revival of this design wouldn’t just make sense—it’d be a flex.
Seiko SNK805 (circa 2004–early 2020s)
Before green dials became the Instagram darling of the watch world, Seiko was already quietly making them cool with the SNK805. A part of the now-legendary Seiko 5 series, this compact 37 mm field watch was not only one of the few mass-produced green-dial options available back in the day—it was also Seiko’s cheapest automatic for years. At one point, you could snag one for under AUD $100, which made it the de facto gateway drug for budding mechanical-watch collectors. It had all the right ingredients: military-inspired styling, a bead-blasted case, a no-nonsense 7S26 automatic movement, and a utilitarian canvas strap.
It wasn’t flashy, but that was precisely the point—it was pure, unpretentious function. Today, as Seiko moves toward larger cases and higher price points, the SNK805 (and its blue, black, and cream siblings) is quietly slipping away, relegated to the world of new old stock and eBay alerts. And yet, few watches made the case for mechanical timekeeping better. If Seiko brought it back unchanged—same size, same specs, same price philosophy—it would absolutely fly off shelves. Again.
TAG Heuer Monaco V4 (2004–mid 2010s)
If the Polerouter was quiet confidence, the Monaco V4 was full-blown horological swagger. First unveiled in 2004 as a concept and finally hitting production in 2009, the V4 took the square-case Monaco blueprint and ripped it wide open—replacing the traditional gear train with tiny belts, mounting the movement on ball bearings, and slapping a linear-weight winding system across its industrial-chic face like a middle finger to convention.
It quietly left the catalogue sometime in the mid-2010s, with limited editions like the titanium/carbon V4 Phantom or the eventual Tourbillon model bringing down the curtain. Today, it stands as a reminder that even in the luxury watch world, risks do get taken—and sometimes, gloriously overengineered art is the result. If TAG ever wanted to flex its avant-garde chops again—especially with some vintage racing pedigree for inspiration—the V4 wouldn’t be a bad place to start.
Omega CK 859 (2022–2023)
Quietly released in March 2022, this manually wound homage to a 1939 Omega turns heads without yelling. Its 39mm sterling-silver, sector-dial suite, blued hands and railway-minute track offer restrained elegance pure and simple . Powered by the hand‑wound Co‑Axial Master Chronometer calibre 8926, this clearly numbered edition delivers 72 hours of power, METAS-level antimagnetic resistance and vintage posture—yet under a sapphire caseback, it’s resolutely modern.
On the wrist, it’s not a gawky dress pant, but a sharp unstructured blazer—sophisticated, versatile and never ostentatious, though the 30m water resistance feels like a tiny nod to its quiet confidence, rather than a functional one. Though it received the gold medal treatment with last year's Specialities Paris 2024 model, in today’s “revival everything” era, the CK 859 stands as a quiet testament to style over hype—and a reminder that sometimes, subtlety is enough.
