The Filippo Loreti Celestial Tourbillon is $850. That’s the main story here.
For the uninitiated, a tourbillon is an antiquated and complex mechanism designed by Abraham-Louis Breguet and patented in 1801. Breguet mounted the escapement and balance wheel in a cage that rotates every 60 seconds, combating the effects of gravity to improve accuracy. It was revolutionary in its day and entirely unnecessary in a modern watch movement, but we watch geeks don’t care. We love stuff like this. Not long ago, tourbillons were strictly in the realm of haute horlogerie and likely cost more than the down payment on your house, but as their popularity increased, more manufacturers produced them, and prices dropped. Swiss-made tourbillons still run in the tens of thousands, while watches with Chinese units like the manual-wind SeaGull ST8230 can be had for a few hundred.
Which brings us to Filippo Loreti’s $850 automatic tourbillon. Is it real? Is it worth it? Is it made out of cheese? I tried one to find out.
Now, if you have spent much time on the watch forums or social media pages that focus on small brands, you have probably heard some strong opinions about Filippo Loreti, many of which the brand would like to forget. Without digging up the dirt here, suffice it to say that the brand is under new ownership that is working hard to steer it in a new direction. One such effort is the Atelier Loreti line, intended to sell exotic, desirable boutique products like the Celestial Tourbillon at an attainable price point.
The movement is the brand’s own L1T caliber, a design based on Miyota 8215 architecture and reengineered to house the all-important tourbillon and run at 28.8k bph rather than the 8215’s usual 21.6k. Contrary to some comments I’ve seen online, the L1T’s “reengineered architecture” does not mean it employs parts produced by Miyota, but rather that Filippo Loreti’s team altered that unit’s blueprint to create its own unique variant. It’s a smart move. By starting with a known, reliable platform, the watchmakers could focus on the new complication without needlessly reinventing all of its underpinnings.
A peek through the exhibition caseback reveals a neatly decorated plate, the backside of the tourbillon module, and an attractive custom rotor. The rotor is bidirectional, producing the usual Miyota whir. It has a 35-hour power reserve, which is less than an unmodified 8215’s 42 hours. You will notice the watch is rated to 100m water resistance. This is outstanding for a dress watch, and more in line with what one might expect from a sports watch. Even though you wouldn’t wear the Celestial for reef diving, it’s nice to have extra protection.
Is the Celestial a dress watch? I would say it’s dress-adjacent. The overall appearance is open and sparse, devoid of any marker or index, which is somewhat ironic given that the tourbillon exists to improve accuracy and the dial lacks any way to measure that, but remember what I said at the beginning: modern tourbillons exist for novelty, not necessity.
The hands are an elegant, polished, and faceted leaf design. It displays the lovely gold tourbillon in a six o’clock porthole, balanced by a tastefully rendered Atellier Loreti brand name in a combination of serif and sans-serif typefaces. Best of all, the dials are cut from stone: the Turquoise shown here, Aventurine, Onyx, and, for a premium ($1,050), meteorite.
I loved the polished turquoise sample. Its glassy surface invited you to jump into it. As a natural stone, each piece has its own character. This one displayed clusters of cloudy freckles at 10 and 3 o’clock.
That lush dial sits under a massively tall sapphire box crystal. I will never say no to a big dome, and this one works particularly well, dropping steeply into the polished and angled bezel.
Longitudinally brushed case sides present a pleasant contrast to its bright bezel, chamfers, and underside. The crown is a fluted diamond shape, polished and embossed. This is not a watch that shrinks from view; it makes a statement, and with few bells-and-whistles besides the mechanism that stars in its show.
And this is where the Celestial will divide its potential buyers. When I say it doesn’t shrink, I mean it. The stainless steel case measures 42mm wide, 49.5mm long, and just a smidge under 11mm thick (10.85mm to be precise), not counting that mega-dome, which brings it to over 14mm. Dress watches are typically small; the Celestial certainly isn’t, and the expansive dial makes it look even larger.
These are proportions better suited to someone with a wrist size greater than 7″. I felt I could pull it off on my smallish 6.75″ wrist, but with limits. Its “Hey! Check me out!” personality would keep me from wearing it in any formal or professional environment. On the other hand, I’d happily wear it to more casual social occasions. I’d call it a cocktail party watch, particularly if the party was attended by fellow watch nerds who would appreciate just how uncommon this beauty really is.
Filippo Loreti equips the Celestial with a 22mm alligator-embossed leather strap that tapers to 18mm. It appears well constructed, and its matte black finish lets the glossy dial shine. It’s a perfectly fine strap, but not particularly special, and its unsigned, brushed-and-polished buckle looks like any number of generic units I’ve sampled. I don’t fault them for this; if you have to cut corners to shave a bit off of the retail price, then the strap is the place to do it. I suspect that many owners will find aftermarket upgrades that better match the distinctive character of this watch.
With that, I will return to my opening question: is the relatively bargain-priced Atelier Loreti Celestial Tourbillon worth it? After all, $850 is inexpensive for this complication, but not exactly chump change. After living with the watch for a bit, I say, yes. This is a real head-turner with an unusual movement guaranteed to spark passionate discussion at your next watches-and-coffee meetup, and you will not find a tourbillon for less than this.
It’s not a watch for everyone. Truth be told, it’s not a watch for me. I would have preferred a much smaller case with curved sides and a fully polished finish for a more formal dress-watch look and a better fit. Still, I cannot deny the allure of that gorgeous stone dial or the mystique of its unusual complication.
Fillipo Loreti says the Celestial Tourbillon is a limited edition, and some models are showing low stock. If you’ve got the itch for something unexpected, head over to filippoloretiwatches.com and take a look.
