I know what a vertical clutch chronograph feels like. I know the difference between a stamped clasp and a milled one, and I can probably tell you the reference number of the Submariner James Bond wore in Live and Let Die without Googling it.
I am a “watch guy.” Or at least, I was…
Then I collected a few other things: two kids, a mortgage, and a nasty habit of buying things don’t strictly need.
The harsh reality of a budget doesn’t care about “horological significance.” It cares about paying of the mortgage. So, while I still appreciate the engineering of a five-figure Swiss icon, my wrist has had to adjust to my bank account.
The “Deep Cut” for the Budget-Conscious Snob
If you know, you know. If you don’t: Mirexal was the house brand for Migros, the Swiss supermarket giant.
Yes, it’s a grocery store watch. But before you scroll past: in the 1970s, Migros wasn’t messing around. They contracted legitimate Swiss manufactures , rumored to be Rotary andMondaine, to build these things. This isn’t a fashion watch filled with plastic parts; it’s a proper Swiss tool watch that just happened to be sold next to the fondue sets.
I own the dress version. It’s been my daily wearer for years, not just because it’s cheap, but because it’s actually good.
- The Movement is Legit: Inside beats a Swiss ETA (often a 2783 or 2789). It’s the horological equivalent of a Volvo 240 wagon, it’s not sexy, but it’s bulletproof, easy to service, and runs forever.
- The Proportions are Perfect: It sits at that sweet spot between 35mm and 37mm. It fits under a cuff. It doesn’t scream for attention. It just does its job.
- The “If I Smash It” Factor: This is key. When I’m wrestling a toddler into a car seat or hauling cycling gear out of the garage, I’m not terrified of scratching it. It takes a beating and looks better for it.
Understated and underrated
There is a specific kind of satisfaction in wearing a watch that punches this far above its weight class. It scratches the itch for vintage Swiss mechanics—the acrylic crystal distortion, the ticking of a pallet fork, the tritium patina—without the guilt of spending the family vacation fund.
The Mirexal isn’t a grail. It’s a reality check. And honestly? Between the kids and the mortgage, it’s exactly the kind of watch I need right now.
