I cycle through a lot of watches here at The Time Bum. I always have a few review samples on deck that I try to turn over without undue delay and I have my own collection that needs love too. In the effort to give sufficient wrist time to all of them, I swap watches pretty often, at least daily, and sometimes, when there is no one around, on both wrists. That said, I am also a guy who just enjoys watches, and one strikes me, it stays on my wrist, bumping the others back in the queue. Such was the case with the Armand Nicolet MM2 I’m reviewing today, which has been on my wrist for a little more than a week.
This was my first experience with the venerable Swiss brand. Overall, I was impressed with the quality of both the design and construction. Any watch company that has survived since 1875 and weathered the quartz crisis must know a thing or two.
The MM2 is an unorthodox take on the vintage-style aviator’s watch with a broad case, large numbers, good lume, domed sapphire crystal, and a large crown – aggressively grooved and signed with an embossed logo to boot. It retails for CHF 1,400 or about $1,500 USD.
Inside, is a 28.8k bph AN200 automatic movement, which is based on either ETA 2824-2 or Sellita SW-200. A peek at the signed rotor through the display window will let you know if you have the 25-jewel ETA or 26-jewel Sellita, but in my experience, it really doesn’t matter. They are both quality machines. While we are back here, do check out the engraving and the fine coin edge on the case back.
In traditional pilot’s watch fashion, the MM2 is on the large side, 43mm wide and 52.5mm long to be precise, although I didn’t believe it until I whipped out the calipers and measured myself. A 43mm case should feel big on my 6.75″ wrist, but if I have learned anything after reviewing watches for 8 years, it is that the diameter of a watch really gives you no more than a rough idea about how it will look or feel on your wrist. In this case, the MM2 wears more like a … I hesitate to say because I’m breaking my own rule about pegging too much importance to diameter, but I would have guessed 41mm, which was a welcome surprise.
I credit this illusion to the bowed and polished sides and 13mm thickness. That last figure is not what I would consider slim, but remember that a 43mm case provides plenty of room to spread that thickness around so the overall proportions don’t feel bulky at all. While other reviewers have said the stepped bezel made it appear heavier, I strangely perceived the opposite. To my eye, the edge-blurring reflections and the shadows from the steps actually took attention away from the bezel and drew my eye to the lesser diameter of the dial.
Sometimes, the color of a watch just grabs you and pulls you in; maybe because it is loud, but often because it is just unusual. For me, the MM2 was the latter. Of course, the other elements deserve further examination too, but the dial, simply labeled as “beige” in the brand’s literature, tells a story all by itself. Ok, technically it is beige but with its slight green cast I’d call it a khaki, except that khaki is usually matte and this has more of a sheen to it that makes it lean towards gold. Regardless, it is a distinctive color. It darkens at the numbers, turning deep brown before it reaches the perimeter. When combined with the rough surface texture and the early 20th-century typeface of the numbers, this odd gradient dial evokes sand, oil, packed-earth landing strips, and maybe a long-forgotten ammo box filled with letters from home. Am I getting carried away? Perhaps. I’d say you are entitled to get carried away by a good challenging design; that’s how you know it’s working! But I do like the way the designers captured the emotion of a vintage watch without resorting to the usual “black dial with tan lume” formula.
Speaking of lume, it is a clean white in contrast to the dial and casts a bright green glow at night.
Given the earthy tones of the dial, it is a bit shocking to see bright Safety Orange framing the white lume on the ends of those black sword hands. The vibrant color is repeated on the second hand’s tip, the cardinal points of the chapter index, and the printed model designation. The remainder of the hands’ length is black. I must say, orange was a big risk, and not one I likely would have taken. And yet, there is a certain utilitarian logic, I mean, you want those hands to be visible, right? I can’t say that orange color makes the beige watch more attractive so much as it makes it distinctive. You can order the MM2 with black or blue dials too, and the orange tips work perfectly well on those combinations, but if you want maximum character, choose the beige.
I might have preferred the MM2 without a date but this one gives me little to complain about. It’s positioned at 6 o’clock, the window is neatly beveled, and the white disk and black frame tie it well to the similarly configured numbers. This is good because it displaces the 6. Well, most of it. You still get the cut-off lower half.
Armand Nicolet ships the MM2 on a 22mm leather-lined canvas strap that tapers to a signed 18mm buckle with a broad frame. While canvas is a natural choice for a military watch, the contrasting light brown stitching, and rally-style perforations are less common but welcome nonetheless.
As I said at the outset, I didn’t want to take this watch off but getting there was a bit of a roller coaster. I was excited when I first saw it, then I began to question everything about it, and ultimately I found myself looking forward to putting it on every day. The MM2 won’t be for everyone, especially the beige and orange version, and that is no small part of its appeal.
For more information on how to get one of your own, visit ArmandNicolet.com.
