These Are The Jump Hour Watches We Love

Every year, there’s always one watch trend that sneaks up on us, and we’re better for it. Earlier this year, we witnessed the rise and the return of small watches – with Paul Mescal sporting a small Cartier Tank at the Gladiator II red carpet, and Timothee Chalamet stacking two Carter minis (yeah, I know right?)

However, the latest honour goes to the jump hour. Yes, they’re back.

A complication most people forgot existed has suddenly become the thing collectors can’t stop talking about, thanks to a few very big, very deliberate moves from the industry’s heavy hitters.

You’ve probably noticed it without realising it. That odd little Cartier plastered across every Geneva taxi during Watches & Wonders? The Tank à Guichets. And then Louis Vuitton also dropped the Tambour Convergence. Suddenly, this century-old mechanical “digital display” has started feeling weirdly, unmistakably modern.

What’s driving the comeback? Honestly, who knows? We’ve spent a decade staring at skeletonised dials, hyper-complicated faces, ceramic everything, and watches that seem to be performing for social media first. Jump-hour watches are the counter-argument. They hide more than they reveal. They make you lean in a little. When the hour snaps over, it feels like a private moment.

Of course, none of this is new. Josef Pallweber’s 1883 patent was the first proper breakthrough in mechanical “digital” displays, and brands like IWC, Audemars Piguet, and Vacheron Constantin spent the early 20th century experimenting with the idea of the wristwatch as a ticket window. Cartier went further in 1928 with the Tank à Guichets, a design so radically pared back that it looked more like a gold ingot than a wristwatch. The logic was simple: eliminate the dial entirely, keep only the essentials, and let numbers do the talking. If modern minimalism feels ubiquitous now, that’s because brands like Cartier were already interrogating it nearly a century ago.

Today, the trend feels less like nostalgia and more like a collective palate cleanser. Collectors want pieces with personality, stories, a touch of eccentricity — things that don’t disappear in the sea of steel sports watches. A jump-hour watch rewards the second glance, not the first. And that’s the appeal.

Which is why we’ve rounded up the pieces that actually matter right now — these are the jump-hour (and jump-hour-adjacent) watches defining the moment.

Louis Vuitton Tambour Convergence

Louis Vuitton’s watchmaking can be polarising, but every few years the brand produces something that resets the conversation—and the Convergence is one of those moments. This is a “dragging hours and minutes” display rather than a true jump hour, with two discs gliding beneath twin apertures. But the effect is hypnotic: minimalist, graphic, and futuristic. The pebble-polished front, integrated profile, and crisp blue font give it design confidence few maisons manage at this level. The in-house LFT MA01.01 movement is properly built—4 Hz, free-sprung balance, 45-hour reserve—and the Convergence proves LV isn’t just playing catch-up anymore.

Cartier Tank à Guichets (2025 Reissue)

This is the watch that detonated the revival. Cartier’s Privé collection tends to court obsessives, but the new Tank à Guichets is a full-scale resurrection of a cult icon. Offered in yellow gold, rose gold, and a quietly lethal platinum, plus a limited slanted-aperture variant, the watch strips the Tank down to its bones. No dial, no hands—just two apertures and a brushed metal facade that feels industrial and precious at once. The 9755 MC calibre is hand-wound and classically Cartier in its proportions. Legibility is… let’s be polite and say “optional,” but that’s the point. This is Art Deco minimalism distilled into a 37.6 × 24.8 mm rectangle. A conversation piece masquerading as a dress watch.

Chopard L.U.C Quattro Spirit 25 - Straw Marquetry Edition

Chopard’s L.U.C division simply keeps producing some of the most technically disciplined movements in Switzerland. The Quattro Spirit 25 is their first in-house jump hour, using the eight-day L.U.C 98 calibre—four barrels, smooth torque delivery, and a track record of reliability. The enamel dial version is already a purist favourite, but the new straw-marquetry editions push the concept into métiers d’art territory without losing the clarity of the display. The jumping hour aperture at 6 o’clock remains razor-clean, and the artisanal dial work—particularly the green piece—is genuinely impressive.

Bremont Terranova Jump Hour

The British brand has been pushing hard under Davide Cerrato, and the Terranova Jump Hour is their most surprising recent release. This watch is rugged, slightly industrial, and recognisably Bremont. The vertically aligned apertures, centre seconds, and chunky Terranova case make it the jump-hour equivalent of a field watch. The steel 40.5 mm version is the sensible buy, while the 38 mm bronze limited edition leans into patina. Both use the BC634 calibre (Sellita-developed), offering a 56-hour reserve and decent robustness. Not a purist’s jump hour, but a solid reminder that the complication doesn’t have to live exclusively in dress-watch territory.

Chanel Monsieur

Chanel’s most serious men’s watch remains criminally underrated. The Monsieur is a study in intentional design: retrograde minutes at 12, small seconds below, and a bold jump-hour aperture at 6 framed by an octagon that nods to the maison’s design codes. The CHANEL Calibre 1 is a legitimately impressive movement—manual-wind, 70-hour reserve, and architecturally elegant. This is a jump-hour watch that leans into the house’s fashion-driven aesthetic without compromising mechanical credibility.

Jaeger-LeCoultre Reverso Tribute Nonantième ‘Enamel’

The Nonantième hides its magic on the caseback: a beautifully executed semi-jump hour display framed by enamel artistry. JLC has always treated the Reverso as a canvas for mechanical play, and the Nonantième proves how quietly inventive the maison can be. Hours glide into place rather than snap, preserving the elegance of the display. It’s less “look at me” than some of the other pieces here, but arguably the most refined expression of the complication.