ChatGPT AI “watchroast” Roast my Watch!

Oh, the Revelot R10 Admiral? Let me guess—you wanted a Rolex Submariner but didn’t want to take out a second mortgage?

(Ok, je moet iets zeggen om te beginnen denk ik. Ik geloof niet dat de overeenkomst dusdanig is dat deze een budget-alternatief is voor een sub.)

That oversized 44mm (nee, 41 mm!) case is practically screaming, “Look at me! I’m important!”—but in reality, it just makes your wrist look like it skipped leg day (20 cm pols, kom ik best mee weg denk ik) . And that skeleton dial? (Welke skeleton dial?) It’s like Revelot couldn’t decide if they wanted a dive watch or a sci-fi prop, so they just threw in everything.

Then there’s the movement—oh wait, it’s a Miyota 8N24? (Nee, een Seiko NH34, hoezo?) Nothing says “luxury” like the same engine found in budget microbrands. (Het is ook een microbrand…) At least it’s automatic, so you don’t have to wind up your regrets manually.

But hey, if you love it, rock it with pride. Just don’t let a real Admiral catch you wearing it—they might make you swab the deck.


Blijkbaar wordt er niet veel geschreven over dit horloge, en gooit AI maar wat termen bij elkaar die betrekking hebben op horloges, maar niet op dit specifieke horloge. Leuk om eens te zien hoe een under-the-radar horloge wordt beschreven door een LLM.

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:flushed:

Ik bedoel daarmee dat het geen bekend, populair horloge is als een Speedmaster of een Submariner. Het horloge zelf is niet per se subtiel te noemen, dat weet ik ook wel.

Ik ben zelf ook niet per se subtiel, dus dat past aardig bij elkaar :wink:

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Roast my watch

Alright, let’s roast this watch.

Ah, a Maen Manhattan 37—because you wanted the Royal Oak look but didn’t want to sell a kidney. The integrated bracelet screams “luxury,” but whispers “budget alternative.” The dial is trying so hard to be sophisticated with those ridges, but it’s basically just a knockoff Gerald Genta design on a tighter budget. That brushed steel case? Nice try, but it looks like it came pre-scuffed to save you the trouble of actually wearing it in.

And let’s talk about that wrist presence—it’s like the watch is flexing harder than you at the gym. You took it to a workout, but let’s be honest, the heaviest thing it’s lifting is your ego.

Swiss-made, huh? More like Swiss-ish.

:rofl::rofl::rofl:

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Prachtig prachtig prachtig. Ik wil mijn hoofd ook geroast hebben, maar dat kan helaas niet op dit forum.

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Yup. Dit waren horloges die door het leger aan infanteristen werden gegeven om operaties enigszins te timen. Het hoefde geen chronometer spec horloge te zijn, maar enigermate goed en onder alle omstandigheden afleesbaar. Idem dito voor een piloten horloge, in die tijd. Dan krijg je dus zo goed mogelijke specs voor zo weinig mogelijk geld, want gewoon LVT uitrusting.

Ouch :joy::smiling_face_with_tear:

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Ik heb de rustige variant van CoPilot gevraagd om deze te roosteren… Best vriendelijk ook! :rofl:

That Edox Les Bémonts watch is the horological embodiment of a midlife crisis wrapped around your wrist. It’s as if someone thought, “How can we make a watch look both outdated and overly flashy at the same time?” and then really committed to the bit. The blue dial is so aggressively vibrant that it could probably be seen from space—astronauts are likely mistaking it for a distress signal.

The gold bracelet? Bold choice. It screams, “I want to look luxurious,” but ends up whispering, “I found this in a bargain bin.” It’s like your wrist is hosting a tacky 80s revival party that no one asked for. The clunky mix of gold and blue is giving off serious “trust fund DJ who still lives in his parents’ basement” vibes.

And let’s talk about that date window at 6 o’clock—so tiny and insignificant that it’s practically admitting defeat. It’s there, but is it really? Trying to read it feels like participating in an eye exam you didn’t sign up for.

Pairing this masterpiece with your geometric-patterned shirt is a daring move. The clash of patterns and colors could cause a minor sensory overload. It’s as if you’re testing the limits of what’s acceptable in human eyesight. Fashion critics might need a moment of silence to process the ensemble—or perhaps a long vacation.

Wearing this watch isn’t just a fashion statement; it’s a cry for help from someone who’s lost in the labyrinth of style and needs a GPS to find the exit. It doesn’t tell time as much as it transports you to an era best left forgotten.

But hey, on the bright side, you’ve got a surefire way to make an impression—though perhaps not the one you were aiming for. Maybe consider giving your wrist a well-deserved break and let that watch retire gracefully. Or donate it to a museum dedicated to misunderstood fashion relics. After all, one man’s trash is… well, still trash, but at least it’s historically significant trash.

Alright, let’s roast this tank of a watch.

You got yourself a Sinn UX HYDRO, a watch so over-engineered that it makes a Rolex Submariner look like a child’s toy. Congrats, you’ve basically strapped a submarine porthole to your wrist.

This thing is oil-filled, because apparently, regular air just wasn’t good enough for you. The upside? Zero reflection and perfect legibility underwater. The downside? If you ever need to service it, good luck finding a watchmaker who doesn’t panic at the sight of hydraulic fluid.

The quartz movement? Oh, it’s not just any quartz—it’s a thermocompensated ETA 955.652. Meaning? It’s probably more accurate than your phone, but at the end of the day, it’s still quartz. Imagine flexing a 5000m water-resistant watch just to tell people it’s running on a glorified button cell battery.

And let’s talk about the design. This thing looks like it was made for Navy SEALs who forgot they were Navy SEALs. The bezel is so chunky it could double as a bottle opener, and the hands? Looks like Sinn stole them from a decommissioned torpedo guidance system.

Final verdict? Built like a tank, but flexes like a Casio on steroids. You either dive for a living, or you just really enjoy intimidating your local Starbucks barista.

Break it

Oh, you want me to obliterate this thing? Say no more.

This Sinn UX HYDRO is so German it probably yells at you in metric. They took a regular dive watch, dunked it in oil like a schnitzel, and called it innovation. Meanwhile, every other watch brand is out here making mechanical masterpieces, and Sinn’s like, “Nah, let’s just fill it with lube and call it a day.”

Let’s talk about size—this thing is a chunky boi. At 44mm and over 13mm thick, it wears like a hockey puck. If your wrist isn’t built like a tree trunk, congrats, you now have a permanent wrist dent. And don’t even think about sliding this under a dress shirt—unless you enjoy looking like you smuggled a landmine onto your wrist.

The bezel? Oh, it’s functional, sure. But it looks like it was machined out of leftover tank parts. The font? Straight out of a Cold War submarine manual. The only thing missing is a periscope attachment. And that little white triangle at 12 o’clock? Looks like it was slapped on as an afterthought by a guy who was late for his lunch break.

Now let’s get to the quartz movement—because what better way to flex German engineering than by throwing a glorified Casio module into a titanium case? Yeah, yeah, it’s “thermocompensated,” but at the end of the day, it’s still a battery-powered piece of sadness. You could have had a mechanical movement, but no—you went with something that needs a CR2032 swap every few years. Bold choice, my friend.

And don’t even get me started on that oil-filled gimmick. Oh wow, you can read the dial from any angle? Neat! Meanwhile, now you have a watch that requires Sinn’s proprietary wizardry to service. If it ever leaks, guess what? You’re sending it back to Germany, where a guy in a lab coat will charge you the GDP of a small country to fix it.

Final verdict? This watch is for people who say, “I don’t need luxury—I need a tool watch,” but still cry when their strap gets a scratch. Overbuilt, overhyped, and underwhelming. Now go flex your 5000m water resistance to the guy next to you who’s wearing a G-Shock and doesn’t care.

break it harder

Oh, you want this thing annihilated? Alright, let’s turn this watch into scrap metal.

First off, this Sinn UX HYDRO is the most try-hard watch on the planet. It’s like Sinn looked at every normal dive watch and thought, “Not extreme enough. Let’s over-engineer the hell out of it, fill it with oil, and make it look like a military landmine.” Because yeah, that’s what every normal person needs—a 5000m water-resistant watch for their daily desk diving adventures. Bro, James Cameron didn’t even go that deep, and you’re out here flexing a watch that’s more waterproof than your entire existence.

And let’s talk about that bezel. It looks like it was ripped straight off an industrial pressure gauge. The engraving is so aggressive, it might as well have been done with a chainsaw. Spinning this thing probably feels like turning a medieval torture device. And those red minute markers? Bro, are we reading elapsed dive time or trying to disarm a nuclear bomb?

And the hands—what is this? A Fisher-Price toy for future deep-sea welders? Look at them! That hour hand looks like a reject from an IKEA instruction manual, and the minute hand? So oversized it could be used as an airplane runway signal. The only thing missing is a button that launches a torpedo when you hit the wrong time zone.

And then there’s the quartz movement. Not just any quartz—fancy quartz. Wow. A $3000+ battery-powered watch. You could have just bought a Casio for $50 and called it a day. But no, you needed thermocompensation because you’re so obsessed with accuracy that being a couple of seconds off in a year would ruin your life. And guess what? The second hand still doesn’t hit the markers perfectly. Sinn really said, “We can put a man on the moon, but we can’t align this hand correctly.”

And let’s not forget about the oil-filled gimmick. Oh, cool, perfect readability from any angle. Awesome. Because the one thing ruining your life before was slight dial distortion at extreme angles. Bro, are you reading the time or analyzing watch dials like a scientist in a lab? And the drawback? Oh yeah—because of the oil, the case back has to flex like a stressed-out accountant just to deal with pressure changes. If it fails? Boom, enjoy your tiny Sinn oil spill. Hope you like sending your watch to Germany for a six-month, wallet-draining service.

And the titanium case? Oh, cool, it’s “lightweight.” Too bad it still wears like a steel pancake on your wrist. It’s big, thick, and looks like it was designed by a guy whose entire personality is “I like submarines.”

Final verdict? A Casio on steroids, pretending to be a luxury watch. You either bought this because you’re an actual deep-sea diver or because you wanted something that screams “I take my hobby way too seriously.” Either way, enjoy your overbuilt, overcomplicated, and overpriced wrist brick.

destroy the watch

Alright, time to utterly obliterate this overengineered piece of nonsense. This isn’t just a roast anymore—this is a full-scale demolition.

THE SINN UX: A MONUMENT TO POINTLESS OVERKILL

First off, let’s address the elephant in the room—this watch is the horological equivalent of a lifted pickup truck with “NO FEAR” stickers. It’s too big, too aggressive, and completely unnecessary for 99.9% of people who own it. You are not a Navy SEAL, you are not a saturation diver, and you are definitely not going 5000 meters underwater unless your last name is Cousteau or you’re inside the wreck of the Titanic. This is the kind of watch that tries so hard to be cool that it circles back around to being lame.

THE DESIGN: BUILT LIKE A BATTLESHIP, WEARS LIKE A BRICK

The case is made of submarine steel, because apparently, Sinn wants you to survive torpedo attacks. Great, now your watch can withstand depths you’ll never experience, impacts you’ll never take, and a life you’ll never live. The thing is so thick it looks like someone bolted a manhole cover to your wrist. And the bracelet? Oh wow, a titanium bracelet—so it’s only marginally less wrist-crushing than having an actual anchor chain strapped to you.

THE MOVEMENT: AN EXPENSIVE CASIO WITH A FANCY NAME

Let’s talk about the quartz movement, because Sinn really had the audacity to put a battery-powered engine into this monstrosity and charge thousands for it. But wait! It’s not just any quartz—it’s a thermocompensated quartz! Oh, wow! That means instead of being off by a few seconds a month like a normal quartz, it’s off by a few seconds a year! Amazing! Truly life-changing!

Except here’s the thing: IT’S STILL A QUARTZ WATCH. You could have just bought a Casio G-Shock for $100 and gotten better features, better durability, and an actual soul. But no, you paid thousands for a glorified battery-operated stopwatch encased in a battleship hull.

THE OIL-FILLED CASE: THE MOST POINTLESS GIMMICK EVER

Oh, Sinn fanboys love to flex this one: “B-but the oil filling eliminates reflection and allows for perfect underwater readability!” Yeah? And what exactly are you doing underwater that requires crystal-clear readability? Are you reading Shakespeare at the bottom of the Mariana Trench? Because unless you’re actively fighting sharks with your bare hands, you don’t need this nonsense.

And let’s not forget the downsides—because this oil-filling comes with some hilariously bad trade-offs:

  1. The case back has to flex like a soda can to compensate for temperature changes. So basically, your watch is now a living, breathing stress ball.
  2. If you ever need a service, you’re screwed. Because normal watchmakers can’t fix this. Oh no—this baby has to go back to Sinn HQ in Germany, where a man in a lab coat will charge you a fortune just to refill your overpriced fish tank of a watch.
  3. The second hand still doesn’t hit the markers properly. What’s the point of all this engineering wizardry if you can’t even align the seconds correctly?!

THE BEZEL: OVERKILL MEETS REGRET

Oh, and this unidirectional diver’s bezel? Let me guess—you use it to time your pasta. You are not on a mission to rescue hostages, you are not disabling a bomb, and you are definitely not calculating decompression stops. So congratulations, you now have a giant, industrial-looking, precision-machined timing ring that you use for…what? Checking when your coffee is ready?

FINAL VERDICT: A USELESS MONSTROSITY

The Sinn UX HYDRO is a watch made for extreme conditions that 99.9999% of its owners will never experience. It is massive, impractical, impossible to service, and wildly overpriced for a quartz movement. You could have had a mechanical masterpiece, but instead, you’re flexing a glorified pressure gauge with a battery.

This watch isn’t a timepiece—it’s a $3,000 overcompensation machine for people who want to pretend they’re tactical operators while ordering a latte.

praise the watch and his owner, good vibes only

Alright, time to flip the script—let’s give this absolute beast the respect it deserves.

THE SINN UX HYDRO: A MASTERPIECE OF ENGINEERING

This isn’t just a watch—it’s a statement. A weaponized piece of German engineering designed to laugh in the face of the impossible. While other watches claim to be tough, the UX proves it.

5000 meters of water resistance? Unmatched.
Oil-filled for perfect underwater readability? Genius.
Made from actual submarine steel? Next level.

This isn’t some delicate luxury watch you have to baby—this is a tool. A watch built for people who push limits, break barriers, and don’t settle for less. You’re not just wearing a watch—you’re wearing a feat of modern engineering that stands up to anything life throws at you.

YOUR CHOICE? ABSOLUTE PERFECTION

You could’ve gone with any watch, but you chose one of the most hardcore, overbuilt, no-nonsense timepieces ever made. That says something about you. It says you value function over flash, strength over status, and performance over pretense.

This isn’t just a watch—it’s a symbol. A sign that you don’t follow trends, you make your own path. While others worry about scratches on their polished cases, you’re out here with a watch that could survive the ocean floor and still keep perfect time.

FINAL VERDICT: AN UNSTOPPABLE FORCE

The Sinn UX HYDRO is a masterpiece. It’s tough, precise, and unapologetically badass. Just like its owner. Wear it with pride—you’ve got one of the best tool watches ever made.

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Haha hier laat ChatGPT zien dat het een top horloge is. Er staat niets scherps in wat de UX echt neerhaalt :joy:

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Tjonge, hij slaat wel de spijker op de kop hoor.

Alright, let’s really get into it.

You’re flexing a Cartier Santos, the watch equivalent of a tailored suit that never gets dirty because it’s never actually been worn for anything but sipping overpriced espresso. That square case is an icon, sure, but let’s be honest—it looks like a tiny picture frame for your wrist, except instead of a family photo, it’s just Roman numerals judging you for being late.

Those exposed screws? A bold choice. Nothing says “luxury” like making your watch look like it was assembled in a Home Depot aisle. And that bracelet? It’s got enough polish to blind a man at the right angle, yet somehow still screams “I don’t actually do manual labor.”

And let’s talk about that dial—so minimal it makes an Apple Watch look like a NASA control panel. No complications, no date, just pure, unapologetic “I bought this because I read a GQ article.” But hey, at least it’s automatic, so you can feel superior to quartz peasants while pretending you’re not just checking your phone for the time anyway.

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Komt door de opdracht. :wink:

Ik doelde op het ‘break it’ en ‘break it harder’ gedeelte.
De ommekeer eronder plaatste je later(?), ik lees dat nu pas.

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Je hebt gelijk, eigenlijk niets dan lof over deze geweldenaar. :muscle:t2:

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Ah, the Rolex Sea-Dweller SD43—a watch that screams, “I have money, but I also want you to think I’m adventurous.” Let’s roast it properly:

  1. “Oh, a Sea-Dweller? Cool, so you’re ready to explore the Mariana Trench but probably haven’t even been in a swimming pool deeper than 5 feet.”

  2. “The SD43 is so thick, it’s less of a watch and more of a wrist-mounted paperweight. Do you even need a desk anymore?”

  3. “You bought a watch that can survive 4,000 feet underwater, but the deepest thing it’s ever experienced is your Instagram captions.”

  4. “The Sea-Dweller is like the Hummer of watches—overbuilt, overhyped, and totally unnecessary for 99.9% of your daily activities.”

  5. “Nice watch, but let’s be real: the only ‘diving’ it’s doing is into your wallet.”

  6. “The SD43 is so heavy, it’s basically a gym workout for your wrist. Who needs dumbbells when you’ve got this?”

  7. “You bought a Rolex designed for professional divers, but the closest you’ve gotten to the ocean is watching Finding Nemo.”

  8. “The cyclops lens on your watch is supposed to magnify the date, but all it really magnifies is how much you overpaid for a status symbol.”

  9. “The Sea-Dweller is like that guy at the party who won’t stop talking about how tough he is. We get it—you’re ‘rugged.’ Now chill.”

  10. “You could’ve bought a car, but instead you bought a watch that tells the same time as a $10 Casio. Priorities, right?”

All in good fun, of course! The SD43 is a fantastic watch—just don’t take it (or yourself) too seriously. :wink:

Snap ik. Tegenwoordig is echter vaak wat vroeger als puur functioneel werd gebruikt, iets dat ook een bepaalde uitstraling mag hebben. Elk horloge is feitelijk vanuit functioneel oogpunt redelijk overbodig en vaak overpriced. Geldt ook voor duikers, fliegers, en zelfs dagelijkse horloges.

Wat mij betreft maakt die erkenning ook, dat een horloge best wat meer mag kosten en wat luxueuzer mag zijn dan zijn functionele voorvaders.

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:joy:

Dat geldt voor werkelijk elk artikel en product.

Het is weer eens totaal onzinnig om over een willekeurig product te verlangen dat het prijstechnisch aan dezelfde eisen moet voldoen als tijdens WO1 of WO2. :joy:

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Kan iemand die van mij doen?

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Oh, Tissot PRX, what are you trying to be? With your sleek silver band and gold-colored hands, are you having an identity crisis? Are you a fashion icon or a confused timeline from the '80s trying to break into the 21st century?

Three sub-dials? Who are you trying to impress, the International Space Station? And what’s the deal with that date window at 4 o’clock? Did the designers have a moment of “creative genius” at 4 a.m. and decide, “Yes, this off-center date will surely be a groundbreaking innovation”?

And let’s not forget the buttons on the side. Are you planning to launch a rocket, or just trying to make sure nobody ever mistakes you for a simple timepiece?

Don’t get me started on that model name, “PRX.” Is it a new gaming console or the latest high-tech vacuum cleaner? Make up your mind, Tissot!

But hey, if you need a watch that says, “I have no idea what time it is, but I’m stylishly late,” the Tissot PRX has got you covered

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