The Zodiac-Wheel Royal Orient

Exactly 3 years ago, I posted my review of the Polka-Dot Royal Orient, a beautiful rare timepiece, which was among Orient's finest products of the late 1950s. And now, somewhat surprisingly, comes along another member of that famed lineage – the Zodiac-Wheel Royal Orient.

As blog followers may have noticed, I do not tend to acquire multiple versions of what is, essentially, the same watch. There are just so many different models to choose from, why get a duplicate?

Well, that's the rationale, but to every rule there's an exception, and the whole idea of collecting old mechanical watches has little to do with logic anyway, so – here goes! I saw this lovely thing in excellent shape, and bought it.

Mechanically it is identical to that old dotted specimen. At its heart, a 19 jewel N-Type manual wind movement runs smoothly and – as far as I can judge – happily. It's a simple time-only movement where very little can go wrong, and indeed very little does.

On the outside, it uses the same gold-filled 36mm case, with the same lean, long lugs. The hands also appear to be identical to its sibling watch.

So, what's different?

The zodiac wheel is a pretty reasonable decoration for a watch dial. If you're searching for a set of 12 simple images to enhance a dial that already speaks in twelfths, look no further than the astrological signs. It might make more sense in a watch that actually includes a date and month complication, but to be honest that might be too much to ask for. Very few watches actually present a date-accurate zodiac.

The zodiac also seems to lend itself to designers in a fairly unrestricted manner: it seems you can start almost anywhere on the wheel (although I understand "Aries" is the more common starting point), and go different directions – historically, northern hemisphere wheels would go counter-clockwise, but since people got used to watches, you would see many diagrams where the signs are arranged clockwise.

I mean, look at the following image – the version that appears in the book is as legitimate as mine – apparently there were a few variations on the zodiac theme. Neither starts with Aries at the top; in fact, the one in the book starts with Capricorn, which kind of makes sense as that coincides with January, and continues clockwise. The wheel on my dial looks like it has Capricorn in the first position but mine actually goes counter-clockwise, and starts with Aquarius.

None of this matters, of course, unless you take astrology seriously (I don't, although for my grandma this was hard science). But it did force me to spend time on verifying the authenticity of the watch I purchased, making sure the dial was not tampered with in any way.

And the dial is absolutely fine! More than fine actually. The small details are lovely, and most of the decorations withstood the test of time very well.

Just like the other vintage Royal Orient, and like most old Orients, it's a sweet piece, ticking reliably and accurately, and still works great as a dress watch.

Happy New Year, 2026!

It's that time of year when everyone does their recaps and "best of…" lists again, and the blog is no stranger to this old tradition. And in what has become my own little end-of-year ritual, the last post of the year would cover my completely subjective, 100% biased one-man vote for best Orient release of the year, as well as my favorite personal acquisitions.

While 2024 seemed to indicate a bit of a slowdown in creativity across the watchmaking industry, I felt 2025 did a little better. And as part of that slight upturn, Orient too introduced some nice new models. So, let's get these on the podium, shall we!

In 3^rd place – again, based on nothing more than my personal taste – the solar Mako. I find the combination of the latest 40mm Mako design with a light-powered quartz movement very sensible. It's practical, looks good, and should appeal to many consumers who aren't necessarily attracted to mechanical watches.

Second place had to go to some member of the Stretto family or another, simply for being a brand-new model family. And from that family, I chose the sun and moon version as my favorite. Because I like this very-Orient design, and I believe it fits the Stretto's line quite well.

However, the best new Orient of the year had to go to the M45 F8 Moon Phase Hand Winding watch. It is such a clean, elegant, and unique piece! Its price puts it in near direct competition with moon-phase models from the likes of Tudor, Longines, and a few other Swiss brands – and surprisingly – or not – it has nothing to be ashamed of. And at least in terms of looks and finishing, I do not think I'd trade it for any of them.

My personal collection also grew this year. The first addition to the set was actually a new 2025 release. The new Contemporary Standard could not get onto the podium, as it was not really a new model but rather new color options for the existing model, but that did not make it any less worthy! I loved the green dial, and it proved to be an excellent daily wear.

Another purchase was a vintage watch, but one that's almost as practical and wearable as a new timepiece. The 1964 Calendar Auto diver is a true classic, and finding a well-maintained one was very rewarding.

The last acquisition of 2025, which will probably be the topic of an upcoming blog post, is a "zodiac dial" Royal Orient from the late 1950s. Dressy, classy, but also a little bit funky, it's a perfect example of Orient's top-of-the-line releases from that glamorous era.

Together, these three represent some of the brand's archetypal facets: a beater, a diver, a dress watch; modern and vintage; bold and subtle.

And what about 2026? Well, I'm pretty sure the trend of increased creativity will continue, and I'm expecting some good stuff to come!

Until then, I wish all the blog readers and followers, friends, and loved ones a happy new year! See you in 2026.

Orient's Textured Dials

Textured dials have long been a hallmark of thoughtful watch design, one that goes beyond the basics. Texture can be subtle or flagrant, it can overpower the dial or take the backseat, but it always has an impact.

The appeal isn’t just aesthetic. Textures originated as a practical solution to glare, particularly in the mid-20th century, when both dress watches and field watches relied on matte or grained surfaces to enhance legibility. Over time, these finishes evolved toward more decorative expressions: stamped linen patterns in the 1960s, crisp radial brushing in the 1970s, and more elaborate machine-cut motifs once CNC tooling became widely available. Each era brought its own take on how a dial could play with light.

Traditional crafts also played a role. Guilloché and other machine-turned patterns – once reserved for high-end dress watches – demonstrated how texture could elevate a dial through pure geometry and light. Even when used sparingly, these classic techniques helped establish texture as a legitimate design element rather than just a technical necessity.

The modern resurgence of textured dials owes a great deal to brands that have leaned into nature-inspired surfaces. Grand Seiko’s “Snowflake” is often credited with kicking off the trend; its finely layered, almost paper-like texture showed just how expressive a dial could be without resorting to bold colors or busy layouts. Coupled with the novel spring-drive movement, that watch gave the premium brand a serious boost, and no wonder Grand Seikos kept boasting unique dials ever after.

What makes this design direction especially compelling is that it bridges the gap between traditional craftsmanship and contemporary watchmaking. Stamped textures, laser finishing, and powdered lacquers all coexist today, each offering a distinct visual nuance. And for collectors, especially those who enjoy discovering small details, textured dials offer the perfect blend of subtlety and richness: quiet at a glance, rewarding under the loupe.

Orient, as a brand that's always happy to add a bit of flair to its designs, dipped its toes in the texture pool as well. Considering it is a visual element that requires no changes to the mechanical parts of the watch, it's a trend that aligns perfectly with its watchmaking preferences.

Take, for instance, the 1970 Orient GM. Containing one of Orient's rare high-beat movements (borrowed from Seiko), but housed in a modest case, most GMs were presented with unique dial textures – possibly hinting that something special is ticking inside. The two samples above show one GM with a linen dial (a style that I see as the true ancestor of the snowflake) and one with simpler, but not any less attractive, geometric finishing.

Royal Orient, of course, would also feature plenty of unusual dials, fitting for a high-end product. Pictured below are just two of many, my favorite polka-dot dial and a more obscure model with a dial that looks like a stamped gold leaf.

Modern Royal Orient watches, while they lasted, also had some standout dials. These were largely inspired by classic machine-turning patterns such as Guilloché and tapisserie. While similar patterns can be found on other Orient watches, the "Royal" versions were generally finished to higher standards.

In the 1980s and 1990s, Orient turned much of its attention to quartz watches. These, too, were often adorned with textured dials. Below, for instance, is a golden ladies' watch featuring a pressed pattern resembling linen dials.

In the second half of the 1990s the focus returned to automatic watches. With the renewed interest, proper dial decorations made their comeback – both to the standard models, and to the reintroduced Orient Star label.

Over the past 30 years or so, Orient and Orient Star dials have featured numerous patterns and textures. Only a few examples can be listed here… two of those are shown below, in the Orient Polaris GMT's Guilloché-like weave pattern, and the "Clous de Paris" finishing of the FD series Orient Star.

Even when Orient does semi-skeleton dials, where the open heart aperture is already taking much of the attention (and space) given to the dial, there's always room for a bit of texture. The layered skeleton is one extreme example, where Orient had put together a few bold patterns.

Another example is the classic moon-phase watch, which has a particularly complex dial structure. Here, the center of the dial features a repeated pattern of Orient Star symbols.

Today, I see two new trends in the application of textured dials by Orient. First, in regular Orient models, these are typically offered to highlight limited edition models – such as this 75^th anniversary limited edition Mako 40mm, shown below.

A completely different approach is taken at the very high end of the Orient Star range. The new M34 F8 Date models were given unique dial finishes and colors, which, along with the fine polishing and premium specs, convey an unmistakable Grand Seiko vibe. Which is fair enough, given how many different brands (including the 3^rd major Japanese brand, Citizen) are attempting the same.

 

Some photos were taken from Orient publications and sale ads, or other classic watch sales ads; photos of blue GM, gold Royal Orient, moonphase, layered skeleton, sun & moon, blue FD-series model, and polka-dot Royal Orient are copyrighted by the blog.

 

The Calendar Auto Orient

1964 was a busy year in Japan, with the Olympic Games taking place and all. And Orient, in particular, was working up a sweat: that same year the brand introduced its first diver's watch, the Olympia Calendar Diver; the completely bonkers Grand Prix 100; the Flash; and, still in the same year, its first automatic dive watch, the Calendar Auto Orient.

The watch was still part of the Olympia lineage, and used caliber LCW, a variant of the Olympia family's L-type movement. The specific movement inside the diver was renamed caliber 670, possibly to differentiate it from the elaborately bejeweled "676" LCW inside the Grand Prix 64, and you will see publications referring to it by either name.

The Calendar Auto Orient was also sometimes referred to as Calendar Auto Diver. Peculiarly it had acquired an additional nickname: "19 Diver" or "21 Diver", depending on its jewel count, since that was the writing on the dial.

The model was relatively short-lived, as it was released toward the end of the life of the Olympia line and the L-type movement. It was probably only produced until 1965. During that time a number of versions were made, having either a white/silver or a black dial, a metallic or black bezel, and a few variations of the markers and hands.

Recently, I have added a lovely sample of this model to my collection: a 19-jewel Calendar Auto Orient, featuring a silver dial and metallic bezel, in fine cosmetic condition and excellent working order.

It is worth mentioning that while I sometimes buy such pieces from private sellers, this one came from a respectable store in Japan. They took their time cleaning and servicing the watch, and it shows: the thing winds smoothly, keeps ticking an entire day after I put it down (not common with old movements), and is accurate within a few seconds per day.

Some numbers: the watch case is approximately 39mm wide, excluding the crown, but visually it measures 40mm due to the overhanging bezel. Like many of Orient's vintage divers, it is a perfectly wearable size by modern standards. Lug to Lug length dimension is 47mm, and thickness is about 13mm – of which, nearly a mm can be attributed to the plexiglass extending above the height of the bezel. By the way, I'm always a bit cautious when measuring the thickness of a watch with a tall acrylic crystal, not wanting to scratch it, hence the "about"…

The lume in the hands and markers is obviously no longer luminous, but it has by now taken on a lovely vintage hue. I do hope no one in a sound mind would ever think of repainting such hands! This color just looks so good against the silvery dial.

The bezel rotates smoothly in both directions, without clicks. It is easy enough to turn but offers sufficient resistance to any accidental movement.

Turn the watch around to examine the rather interesting case back. First, you'll note the flying fish engraved in the center, a symbol of this watch, and its reference: T-19735A. The large text above – Olympia Calendar – also reveals its family origins.

The bracelet pictured is not original, but it is "period appropriate", its end-links fit the case, and it arrived just perfectly sized to my wrist, so I could not complain…

What else is there to say about this watch? It's a cool vintage piece with modern wearability (except that I'd keep it away from water), it works well and quite simply looks fantastic! These early divers are a bit more expensive than most vintage Orients, but considering the historical importance combined with everyday practicality, this is not such a bad deal! Calendar Auto Orients are not very rare, as long as you're not fixated on any one particular version. But finding one in good condition takes a bit of patience. Which, again, is worth it!