Watch collector Jeremy Ong accepted a seven-day challenge of wearing his wife’s watches

Longtime watch collector Jeremy Ong has amassed more than 300 timepieces — enough to wear a different one every day over an entire year. What defines him, however, isn’t the size of his collection, but how much fun he has with it.

There are no untouched pieces he terms “safe queens” waiting to be sold. His watches live with him — in his office, at home, on his wrist, occasionally even on friends who drop by for champagne and a rummage through his storage cases. Some are under restoration, some are out on loan, and many are in regular rotation. 

The point, for Ong, has always been straightforward: If you own it, it should see the light of day.

The co-founder of interior design firm Designscale started collecting in 1999, almost by accident. What began as a favour to help his father restore a vintage Omega gifted from an old friend turned into a fascination with the mechanics and stories behind watches. 

Witnessing a non-functioning timepiece come back to life over several months sparked something deeper. From that moment on, he was hooked.

Nearly three decades later, his collection resists easy categorisation. There’s neither a singular focus nor a neat narrative arc. Instead, it stretches across eras, brands, and styles — from 1930s pieces to modern curiosities — guided by what he calls “inclination”. 

Design matters to him, and so does history. “I don’t want my collection to be narrow,” he says. “If you focus too much on one category, you miss out on everything else.”

That openness also explains why he was perfectly comfortable doing something most collectors wouldn’t even consider.

Not just hers

Recently, he took on the challenge of wearing his wife’s watches, one daily, for a week. It began as a dare from the missus — one that Ong took in good humour after discovering a Chopard Happy Sport Square he had gifted his wife — missing for some time — under their bed.

While some men might feel that crosses an invisible line, there is no such boundary for Ong. “Watches are like cars. You don’t say this is a lady’s car or a man’s car. It’s just a watch.”

Over seven days, he wore a surprisingly varied, largely vintage selection — all documented in a Facebook watch-hobby group. Despite being small and dainty, they matched his eclectic dress sense and versatile wrist size to a tee.

Among them were a sleek retro yellow gold and brown Lucerne bangle watch, a 60s Sarcar square piece with a mesmerising blue sunburst dial, and a 70s Patek Philippe Ref. 4222 Classique also in a square format, whose original blue face has aged into a “tropical dial” with a “Beaujolais” tone.

And that very Chopard with floating diamond-set stars and a crescent moon that he’d bought as it reminded him of the Singapore flag? Yes, he donned it too.

The most head-turning was an Hermes Kelly watch with the house’s signature bright orange dial and leather strap. “You’d hardly see a guy wearing the Kelly, and particularly in that colour. A watch this striking doesn’t need to be large to be spotted from afar,” he explains. 

To his delight, reactions were overwhelmingly positive. The Kelly invited double-takes, first out of curiosity, then perhaps, of admiration. The experience also reflects his interest in acquiring more compact watches in recent years.

His crowning joys

For all his willingness to experiment, Ong’s own collection remains deeply personal — filled with items that carry anecdotes of discovery, persistence, and sometimes even sacrifice.

One of his favourites is the Titanic-DNA from the now-defunct Swiss luxury watchmaker Romain Jerome.  He’d spent nearly two decades searching for the 2007 timepiece, whose construction incorporated metal salvaged from the shipwreck’s hull, before finally acquiring it recently from a collector.

Unlike the seller who had kept it pristine in a safe, waiting for its value to rise, Ong saw it differently. “Some people buy and keep. I buy and use.” Happily for him, he paid about half its original retail price.

Another significant piece is the rare Zenith El Primero 01.0140.415, a second-generation 70s model bearing the manufacture’s legendary high-frequency automatic chronograph movement. It didn’t come easily. The watch required extensive restoration that took close to a year, with parts sourced globally and even supplemented by components from another vintage Zenith he was willing to sacrifice.

Today, it runs perfectly. More importantly, it has become something of a personal talisman. Whenever Ong faces something new — a challenge or a fresh attempt — he puts it on.

“It’s my lucky charm,” he states. “The first time will be a success.”

Beyond these cherished pieces, his collection is filled with equally intriguing finds. There’s a Universal Geneve Aero-Compax pilot’s chronograph, historically issued to the Romanian air force, including the all-female World War II White Squadron, which is a reminder that functional tool watches have long crossed traditional gender lines. 

Ong is also thrilled with his Jules Jurgensen “Jurgentron” chronograph from the 1960s, powered by the Valjoux 88 movement and featuring triple-date and moonphase complications. Rare, complex, and slightly eccentric, it’s a watch that some collectors consider an early inspiration for contemporary avant-garde brands like Ikepod.

These are not the obvious brands or models that people flex, but to him, that’s precisely the point of collecting.

Aficionado advice

After nearly 30 years and hundreds of pieces, Ong’s approach has become more deliberate. Early on, he admits, he was “trigger-happy”, buying widely and frequently as the excitement of watch-hunting caught on. 

Over time, he has learned to identify models that add breadth and depth to his collection. “You don’t need to follow what everyone else is doing,” he adds. “If you like it, that’s reason enough.”

It is advice that runs counter to much of today’s market, where hype, resale value, and waiting lists often take centre stage. Ong has little patience for that mindset. He has seen collectors buy watches only to leave them unworn for years, treating them as financial instruments rather than objects to be enjoyed. 

That’s also why he rarely sells. In nearly three decades, fewer than 40 watches have left his collection — and most of those were typically different variations of the same model.

For new collectors, he encourages curiosity. It’s easy to fall into a single category or brand, he acknowledges, but doing so can limit the joy the hobby has to offer. 

He believes in developing personal connections with each watch. Whether it’s the back story that resonates with him, the process of discovering or restoring it, or simply how it wears, those experiences are what turn material objects into lasting memories. 

Certainly, the popularity of his collection among social media enthusiasts, the friendships he has gained, and the interest his pieces spark in others ensure his journey remains fulfilling. 

Sometimes, industry developments such as the recent revival of Universal Geneve and Urban Jurgensen, which stems from the same Danish watchmaking family as Jules Jurgensen, can also spark new, engaging conversations.

In the end, his philosophy is simple. Building a collection isn’t about chasing trends or returns — it’s about immersing in the moment with the pieces you own. “A watch only becomes meaningful when you wear it.”

Photography: Athirah Annissa
Art direction: Ashruddin Sani
Grooming: Benedict Choo