Pequignet Concorde Owner Review : Fine, sober and brutal

There are watches that seduce through an accumulation of complications, brilliance, and ostentation, and others that impress through subtraction. This Péquignet unequivocally belongs to the latter category. I didn't choose it for what it displays, but for what it refuses to display. And that's precisely what made it an instant favorite at WLW before becoming, today, a watch I truly chose to buy. The initial shock is primarily formal. The case design, with its softened yet firmly structured lines, clearly belongs to the legacy of the 1970s, a decade when watchmaking engaged with brutalism, industrial design, and functional utopia. I recognize in it a lineage I've often discussed in Dialicious: this ability to create a form without striving for a signature style at all costs. One might think of Gérald Genta, of course, but here freed from any ornamental temptation. Perhaps closer to Dieter Rams's philosophy applied to watchmaking: "Less, but better." Nothing is there to seduce. Everything is there to serve. The sandblasted titanium case is an almost militant response to the contemporary overdose of mirror-polished surfaces and dials that prioritize effect over function. It's exactly the kind of choice I've often championed in my Dialicious reviews: a material that absorbs light instead of reflecting it, that exists through its presence rather than its brilliance. It's an aesthetic of tool, not jewelry—an approach that evokes aeronautical design as much as the essential lines of Naoto Fukasawa, or even the silent volumes of the late Bauhaus, where form always stems from function. On the wrist, the lightness of the titanium is almost disconcerting. The case is thin, perfectly balanced, and the watch physically disappears without ever visually vanishing. It's a feeling I've already described in Dialicious: the idea that a truly successful watch is sometimes one you forget to wear, because it feels so perfect. Here, this balance is particularly well achieved. The dial takes this logic to its logical conclusion. Uncluttered, legible, almost ascetic, it avoids the trap of decorative minimalism that I've sometimes criticized in reviews. The openworked hands provide the necessary graphic tension: a play of solids and voids reminiscent of both certain constructivist explorations and Calder's subtle balances, where movement, emptiness, and structure coexist without hierarchy. They aren't there to seduce. They structure the space. The strap deserves special mention. I've often emphasized in Dialicious that a poorly designed strap can ruin an excellent watch. Here, it's quite the opposite. It's fully integrated into the design, fluid, ergonomic, and consistent with the case. It contributes to this overall feeling of continuity and obvious functionality. Nothing is spectacular. Everything is relevant. The crown is a detail I particularly appreciate. Predictable on paper, but remarkable in use. Good grip, legible, unfussy. A crown designed to be used, not photographed—exactly what I've long advocated in my reviews. And then there's the case back. Openworked, yes, but without mechanical narcissism. I've often been critical of overly revealing transparent case backs; here, Péquignet strikes just the right balance. The in-house movement allows itself to be observed without being ostentatious. No flashy finishes, no over-the-top theatrics. Honest, balanced mechanics, perfectly in keeping with the whole. Conclusion This watch isn't a show of force. It's a demonstration of mastery. It naturally fits into the continuum of what I've analyzed and championed for a long time in Dialicious: watchmaking of choice, coherence, and restraint. A timepiece that speaks to those who have moved beyond the initial dazzle and now seek meaning rather than noise. And then there's that detail, discreet yet laden with symbolism: the fleur-de-lis. An almost silent sign that immediately transports me back to Paris, to its coat of arms, to that motto that now accompanies me as much as this watch: Fluctuat nec mergitur. Tossed by the currents, but never submerged. That's precisely what this Péquignet tells us. A watch that doesn't seek to shine in the storm, but remains steady, true to its course. A watch for a time of maturity. And it was clearly the right time for me.