few years ago, while still running his first brand, William L 1985, watch entrepreneur Guillaume Laidet drew up his own list of dormant names that might find a place in contemporary watchmaking. Nivada Grenchen, Vulcain and Excelsior Park were among those he was watching, as was Universal Genève — arguably the original “sleeping beauty”, since revived within Georges Kern’s House of Brands.

Nivada Grenchen would become his true testing ground. He had just sold William L 1985, the neo-vintage start-up he launched in 2015. Kickstarter was booming, and he now wanted to revive an established heritage name rather than build a brand from scratch. Laidet had begun his career at two historic houses, Zenith and Jaeger-LeCoultre, experiences that no doubt helped shape his calling.

In his eyes, Nivada Grenchen had several decisive advantages: a rich history, several recognisable models, an active vintage market and, above all, a community of collectors that had never entirely disappeared.

Developing a method

For Laidet, a credible revival depends on precisely this combination, particularly a core community active enough to keep the brand’s memory alive and support its return. The existence of a secondary market is another essential signal: when historic models continue to change hands decades after their launch, the brand clearly retains real cultural and emotional value.

To this inherited memory, the entrepreneur adds a thoroughly contemporary approach. As with his first company, William L 1985, Instagram becomes his primary means of attracting customers. Social media allows him to reconnect with enthusiasts scattered around the world, build a mailing list, present prototypes and involve a knowledgeable clientele from the outset.

This approach also requires serious archival research. When the primary audience consists of collectors who sometimes know the original reference better than those reissuing it, inaccuracies carry an immediate cost. Proportions, dials, finishing details and the overall spirit of the watch must remain extremely faithful to the original.

Then comes a final ingredient, perhaps the most decisive: price. For Laidet, the positioning must feel consistent with the quality on offer, the brand’s history and the product’s residual value. Buyers need to feel they are acquiring a fairly priced watch that stands a reasonable chance of retaining a meaningful share of its value.

For Nivada Grenchen, the entrepreneur teamed up with Rémi Chabrat, a private-label specialist whose company, Montrichard, has manufacturing facilities in China and was already producing William L 1985 watches for him. Together, one contributing marketing expertise and the other industrial know-how, they relaunched the brand. This manufacturing capability allowed them to keep prices accessible, while direct sales gave them greater control over margins.

Laidet remains modest, however: the method is not infallible. His subsequent attempt to revive Excelsior Park also revealed its limits. Not every historic brand can be brought back with the same success. In his view, Excelsior Park was hampered by a much narrower product range, centred largely on chronographs, and a less active community. Nivada, by contrast, could draw on an exceptionally varied historical catalogue, spanning three-hand watches, divers and chronographs, which almost naturally opened up multiple avenues for development.

The lesson matters: an illustrious name in the archives is not enough. A successful revival needs a sufficiently deep reserve of products, stories and distinctive features to avoid becoming dependent on a single reference. This becomes even clearer with Vulcain.

Vulcain: the Cricket and beyond

The relationship with Vulcain began after the success of Nivada Grenchen. Laidet contacted the historic Swiss brand’s Luxembourg-based owners and proposed a similar approach. In the aftermath of the pandemic, a new chapter began around the Cricket, at a time when the brand’s activity had virtually ground to a halt. The relaunch through direct sales delivered immediate results, giving Vulcain the financial breathing room to rebuild gradually.

The challenge, however, differed from that of Nivada Grenchen. Vulcain also enjoyed considerable historical recognition, but it was concentrated on one particularly iconic product: the Cricket, the celebrated alarm watch associated with several American presidents.

The Cricket remains the house’s most emblematic watch, but it is relatively expensive and unusual in its concept. At around CHF 5,000, the brand needs to explain why a manufacture movement with an alarm complication merits its price alongside watches from far more widely recognised names.

Vulcain’s growth has therefore also drawn on other strands of its heritage, brought back into the spotlight — notably diving watches. The Skin Diver models have proved essential to the brand’s current development. The range has gradually expanded to include GMTs, chronographs and the Grand Prix collection, with prices starting at around CHF 1,500–1,600 and rising to more than CHF 5,000 for the Cricket. This year, the latter returns in a distinctly contemporary titanium version.

Watchmaking expertise has also survived in Le Locle. When Laidet arrived, only one watchmaker remained; several now work on site. The Cricket movement continues to be assembled using components from local suppliers, after production was restarted for parts needed to make it.

A return to physical retail

The “Laidet method” has often been associated with digital channels, and with good reason. The revival of Nivada Grenchen, like Vulcain’s initial return, was built largely on social media, pre-orders and online sales. Yet this approach does not imply the disappearance of physical retail. Paradoxically, it can even help rebuild a traditional distribution network.

Nivada Grenchen still generates a very substantial share of its business online, but the brand now has several hundred points of sale. Vulcain follows a slightly different logic: its clientele and positioning make it more reliant on physical retail, particularly in Italy, while the brand is also seeking to strengthen distribution in the United States.

The strategy adopted for Nivada was gradual: first establish demand through direct sales, then select a few strong independent retailers, before progressively expanding the network without overloading stores with stock. This is one of the major shifts in independent watchmaking in recent years. Digital channels are no longer necessarily an alternative to retailers. They can serve as a testing ground before a brand enters physical stores with an established community and marketing tools already in place.

This evolution has coincided with another phenomenon: the dramatic rise in prices among the leading names in Swiss watchmaking. An entire space has opened up for brands capable of offering distinctive mechanical watches at between roughly CHF 1,500 and CHF 5,000. A new constellation of independent brands is moving into this territory, drawing on watchmaking culture, design and heritage while remaining committed to making them more accessible.

How many is too many?

One question remains: how many revived brands — and newcomers banking on neo-vintage appeal — can the market still absorb? Since the first successful relaunches, the number of resurrections has grown considerably. Laidet himself now sounds a more cautious note.

In his view, most of the obvious candidates among historic brands are already back in business. Universal Genève, for example, had long been among the names whose return was eagerly awaited. For lesser-known contenders, the task is likely to become much harder.

Space at retailers is one very tangible constraint. Display windows cannot expand indefinitely, and new brands have to win places already occupied by others. After several years of revivals, audience fatigue is another risk. Dusting off an archival logo is no longer enough.

To establish itself, a brand must bring “something extra”: a complication, an identity, an immediately recognisable design. Laidet points to SpaceOne, developed in collaboration with independent watchmaker Theo Auffret, as the opposite of a pure revival: its appeal lies in an entirely new aesthetic language.

What was intended to remain a side project has grown far beyond the entrepreneur’s expectations. The brand has found a niche among collectors and enthusiasts, perhaps precisely because it does not retell an existing story. Some launches have sold several thousand watches within a few days, forcing the founders to put a more formal structure around a business initially conceived with a tiny team.

The man who made his name resurrecting historic brands is now enjoying his most meteoric success with one that owes nothing to the archives. That paradox captures something of what makes the history of watchmaking so fascinating: its unpredictability.