Available 24/7 via chat
Available 24/7 via chat
Baltic just retired the MR collection by doing something no microbrand is supposed to do: putting 40 baguette-cut moissanite stones on the bezel of an €1,100 dress watch. The response was immediate, loud, and split cleanly down the middle. Half the community called it tacky. The other half called it the best thing Baltic has ever made.
Both camps are right, and both are missing the point. The MR Moissanite wasn't designed to be universally liked. It was designed to be impossible to ignore. And in a market where most final editions are a new dial colour and a numbered caseback, that matters more than consensus ever could.
The MR — short for micro-rotor — launched in late 2021 and quickly became one of the most important watches in Baltic's lineup. It took the brand from being known solely as a heritage-inspired dive watch company and turned them into something broader. A 36mm Calatrava-style dress watch with a visible micro-rotor movement for under €700 was a genuine first in the microbrand space. Nobody else was doing it.
Four years later, Baltic is retiring the first-generation MR to make way for an updated version. But instead of a quiet discontinuation or a safe limited edition with a new colourway, designer Jas Rewkiewicz went the other direction entirely.
The MR Moissanite takes the familiar 36mm stainless steel case and adds a bezel set with 40 baguette-cut lab-grown moissanite stones. Two dial variants — the Classic with polished Breguet numerals and the Roulette with its sector layout — both come in glossy black. The Hangzhou CAL5000a micro-rotor movement gets blacked-out bridges with a frosted finish, visible through the display caseback. It's 200 pieces total, 100 per dial variant, priced at €1,100 on leather or €1,160 on a beads-of-rice bracelet.
The Classic sold out almost immediately.
The comment sections under every review and Instagram post are a mess. People calling it a gem-encrusted monstrosity. People calling it stunning. People arguing about whether moissanite is tacky. People arguing about whether dress watches should demand attention at all.
One Oracle of Time commenter compared it to something worn by booze-sodden wannabes trying to look like the jet set. Fratello commenters debated whether it was too blingy to work as a dress watch. Others said Baltic should have made more than 100 per variant because they wanted one and couldn't get one.
This kind of reaction doesn't happen to safe watches. It happens to watches that have a point of view.
The MR Moissanite is, by Jas's own description, deliberately built on tension. He described it as being about the clash between the classical elegance of the 1940s and the opulent maximalism of the 1970s. The watch exists in the gap between refined and provocative, dressy and irreverent. That gap is where all the interesting watches live, and it's exactly where the boring ones don't.
The microbrand space has a problem, and it isn't quality. Quality across the board has improved enormously over the past five years. The problem is that too many brands are now making the same watch. Same specs, same movements, same aesthetic safe zones. A 36mm dress watch with a micro-rotor and a clean dial is no longer novel — Baltic proved it could be done in 2021, and others have followed.
When everything is tasteful, nothing stands out. When every limited edition is a restrained colourway tweak designed to offend nobody, every limited edition is forgettable. You can run through the past twelve months of microbrand "final editions" and "limited releases" and struggle to remember a single one that generated genuine conversation.
Baltic's MR Moissanite generated conversation before most people had even seen the press photos. It generated conversation because it took a position. It said: this is a dress watch with stones on the bezel and we're not apologising for it. Whether you find that thrilling or appalling, you have an opinion on it. That's the entire point.
Brands that never provoke never build the kind of emotional connection that sells out 200 pieces in hours. They might move steady units through sensible releases, but they don't create moments. And moments are what turn a microbrand into a brand.
Part of the backlash centres specifically on moissanite. Some commenters treated it as an automatic disqualifier — fake diamonds on a watch that costs just over a grand, what's the point.
This misses what's happening in the broader market. Lab-grown stones are gaining ground across the entire watch industry, not just at the microbrand level. Oris has been putting lab-grown diamonds on the Aquis. The shift away from mined stones reflects a generational change in how consumers think about materials, ethics, and perceived value. Baltic using moissanite isn't cutting corners. It's making a design choice that aligns with how their actual customer base thinks about luxury.
Moissanite sits at over 9 on the Mohs hardness scale — just below diamond at 10. It has comparable brilliance and, in some conditions, superior fire. It's lab-grown, which means no mining, no conflict supply chains, and a fraction of the cost. For a watch at this price point, insisting on natural diamonds would have pushed the price into a different bracket entirely and defeated the purpose.
Baltic's position has always been that design and value can coexist. The MR Moissanite extends that philosophy to gem-set watches — a category that historically required five figures to enter. Whether you'd wear one is personal. That it exists at all is the statement.
The MR Moissanite didn't start as a production model. It was originally conceived as a one-off concept piece. It only became a 200-piece run after the design gained traction with Andrea Casalegno's collector community and proved too compelling to keep as a single piece.
That origin story matters. This wasn't a committee decision made to fill a marketing calendar slot. It was a design that emerged from genuine creative ambition, found an audience, and got pulled into production by demand. That's the opposite of how most limited editions happen, where the marketing department decides a numbered run would be nice and the design team produces something inoffensive to fill the brief.
Baltic has consistently demonstrated that they understand something most microbrands don't: brand identity isn't built by being good at everything. It's built by having a point of view and committing to it, even when — especially when — not everyone agrees.
The Aquascaphe established them in dive watches. The MR proved they could do dress watches. The Prismics showed they weren't afraid of colour and stones. The MR Moissanite is the logical conclusion of that progression — a brand confident enough in its identity to end a beloved collection with its most divisive design yet.
A safe final edition would have sold out quietly. This one sold out loudly, with hundreds of comments, dozens of articles, and a community that is still arguing about it two weeks later. For a 200-piece run from a Parisian microbrand, that is an extraordinary result.
Confusing personal taste with objective quality. You can dislike gem-set bezels and still recognise that this is a well-executed, intentional design from a brand that knows what it's doing. Your taste is not a quality metric.
Judging moissanite by the standards of mined diamonds. They serve different purposes for different buyers. Dismissing lab-grown stones as "fake" ignores where the entire market is heading.
Assuming provocation means lack of substance. The MR Moissanite has the same Hangzhou micro-rotor movement, the same 36mm case dimensions, and the same fundamental build quality as every other MR. The stones don't replace the watch underneath them.
Thinking consensus is a sign of good design. The most memorable watches in history — from the Royal Oak to the original Nautilus — were controversial when they launched. Controversy is uncomfortable, but it's also how new ground gets established.