During a conversation at House of Robb in Miami, Pierre Halimi, general manager of F.P. Journe North America, challenged the most basic assumption about watches: that they exist primarily to tell time. For Journe, Halimi explained, the function is secondary, and the real value lies in the ideas, craftsmanship, and emotional weight behind each piece.

“The watch has nothing to do with just telling time,” he said. “It has to be a reflection of you.” Instead of a waitlist, the brand keeps a “wishlist”—a system designed to match watches with the right collectors rather than whoever happens to be next in line. “We’re always looking for the best collector possible.”

The path to ownership is slow, intentional, and reserved for those willing to learn. “In New York, the next appointment is February,” he said. The boutique itself is arranged like a living room, with a bar and library but no display cases in sight—an environment meant to encourage conversation rather than transaction. Both first-time and seasoned collectors must sit with the team and understand the philosophy before anything else.

Halimi illustrated the idea by referencing Maurizio Cattelan’s much-debated banana taped to a gallery wall. “A banana is 27 cents,” he said. “So how come a banana that’s 27 cents becomes a banana that reached $5 or $6 million? The difference is the story, the context.” The same logic, he noted, applies to watches. “We’re not selling time. Time is free everywhere.”

This rethinking of function has helped fuel what he called “the golden age” of watchmaking. Independent creators are thriving, collectors are more informed, and mechanical imagination is at an all-time high. “In the next 24 months, you’re going to see a big move. . .watches becoming more of an art collecting thing,” he said.

But that momentum comes with challenges. Halimi was candid about the ongoing battle against flipping. He recalled a potential buyer who openly asked for several pieces to resell at “five or six times the price,” a request the brand rejected immediately. “That’s exactly what we’re fighting against,” he said. His advice is consistent. “Buy what you love.” One collector once summed it up for him: “You can be wrong about the price—don’t be wrong about the piece.”

F.P. Journe’s rising profile at major auctions only underscores the tension he described. Although the brand’s watches routinely achieve strong results, the company remains focused on placing pieces with committed collectors rather than those motivated by the secondary market.

Much of the discussion focused on Francois-Paul Journe himself, whom Halimi described as a rare mechanical artist. “He makes the watches he wants to make,” Halimi said. “If it doesn’t come from him, it doesn’t exist.” As for what comes next, Halimi pointed to Chanel’s minority investment as a stabilizing force rather than a sign of commercialization. He compared the relationship to a patron supporting an artist, allowing Journe to continue without pressure to scale.

What truly distinguishes the brand, Halimi said, is the community that has formed around it. Collectors gather around the world, trading stories over wine as easily as they trade references, and many end up becoming close friends. He compared the devotion to quirky collecting scenes in France—like those built around camembert boxes—though in Journe’s case, Halimi joked, “We’re talking about the same passion on a much more expensive level.”