One of Hong Kong’s renowned watch enthusiasts shares the stories behind the cherished timepieces in his compendium, from why he got a Jaeger-LeCoultre customised to how acquiring an A Lange & Söhne for him got his friend in trouble
Winston Koo has a story for every watch he owns. His love for them started with a Mickey Mouse timepiece he received at Disneyland as a small boy, a seemingly ordinary souvenir that would spark an extraordinary fascination. Since then, Koo has built a collection that reflects not only the evolution of horology but also his personal journey. Once numbering in the hundreds, the selection has been refined to a smaller number of pieces that mark significant life events and embody his life philosophy.
The senior director at UCP International, a leading home furnishings manufacturer in Hong Kong, admits to a preference for black watches, an appreciation for practical functionality, and a dedication to unusual materials. He tells Tatler about the connections between his collection, his personal experiences and his unique approach to life.

Above Jaeger-LeCoultre Master Compressor (Photo: courtesy of Zed Leets / Tatler Hong Kong)
How did your love for watches begin?
Since I was a little boy, I have had an affinity for watches. My first was a Mickey Mouse watch at the age of four, which my parents got me [during] my first trip to Disneyland in California. That was just how it started. Then, growing up in Asia, there was always access or understanding of what’s the latest Casio: the Casio with a calculator; the Casio where you could play some simple games. Plus my father always told me, “A man doesn’t need many accessories: a nice timepiece, a nice pen, a nice pair of shoes and a belt. That’s it.”
Why do you collect black watches?
I was born in the Seventies, and growing up in the Eighties and Nineties, it [the colour black] was like the Asian uniform. I have always felt that black was a misunderstood colour because, a lot of times, we use the word black as something negative, like the black plague or even from a social racial context: white is good, dark-coloured skin is not good. I always felt that I was drawn to the colour, and not just from a fashion standpoint; I just felt that it was misunderstood, that humanity coined the word for its own purposes, rather than understanding it. From the scientific and colour studies standpoint, white contains the gamut of the rainbow of colours, but black is devoid of colour. I always thought that was so cool: to be an empty vessel and to be able to adapt to anything. Hence my attraction towards all things black, from fashion to even my first apartment— it was completely black. My friends called it my private nightclub.
When I started collecting 23-plus years ago, there were not many black watches on the market; then in the mid- to late-2000s, there was an explosion of brands exploring different materials. That also was very attractive for me: materials other than the traditional metals, [such as] these man-made ceramics or composite materials.

Above Blancpain Fifty Fathoms black ceramic (Photo: courtesy of Zed Leets / Tatler Hong Kong)
How many watches do you think are acceptable to own at any one time?
As I get older, I realise it’s not the quantity [that is important]. At some point, I had 200 or 300 watches, and it was just so hard to manage and take care of. I just kept the watches that I still had affection for, and the ones I wanted a little less than the others, I was OK letting go or trading or switching or swapping with friends, or giving away to close family members or friends.
Can you tell us about one watch that has a particularly special memory linked to it?
A very simple, not rare, Blancpain Fifty Fathoms chronograph in black ceramic. The significance is that I just happened to be wearing it for the birth of my two children. So whether it was the time I was looking at it and seeing my wife’s breathing, or seeing the time when she was going into labour, I really had a connection with it. It was a really big milestone as a human being because I became a father for the first time wearing it.
Can you tell us about a watch you had customised?
A Jaeger-LeCoultre Master Compressor; it was not quite all black and it was a pièce unique already. I challenged them regarding something [adding luminescence to the dial] because I’m all about the luminescence; I like sports watches; and for me, there has to be a utilitarian aspect to the watches—it’s not just for show. I felt there was something missing on the seconds dial, and I said hey, if I’m in the mountains or outside in the wild and I need to see if my watch is working, if there’s no luminescence, how do I know? Jaeger-LeCoultre was willing to listen to me and they developed a special luminescent disc for me for that particular piece. [In fact,] they made two, one in red and black and the other blue and black. If you’re making sense, you’re not doing things frivolously, [the brands are] willing to listen.
See also: Discover the everlasting elegance of Patek Philippe's Twenty~4 collection

Above (Photo: courtesy of Tatler Hong Kong / Zed Leets)
Which watch was the most difficult to acquire?
The A Lange & Söhne Datograph Lumen. Lange was always on my radar from an appreciation standpoint—they do immaculate executions—but I didn’t have a purchase record with them. The Datograph has always been such a classic gentleman’s watch; when the Lumen [model] came out, I was mesmerised, but I had no access.
I reached out to my friends from Richemont and they said we can’t help you. But then I found a friend who got an allocation and he didn’t want it for some reason. I was like, would you mind getting it for me? This speaks volumes about that friend, who shall remain nameless, but he got it and it sold it to me with no markup. He got in trouble for it, which broke my heart. He was just really cool about it, though. That watch is going to stay in my collection no matter what, because it signifies what friends do for one another.
Do you want to leave any of your watches to your children as family heirlooms?
I have three kids. The Blancpain Fifty Fathoms would be for the two eldest. I hope that they will keep the brother and sisterhood bond because the Blancpain was there at their birth; I hope they will share that piece and take turns [to wear it]. The other one would be the Urwerk 220. I absolutely adore the brand and [founders] Felix Baumgartner and Martin Frei are my very good friends—I call them the “men in black of horology”. In that piece, there’s a pin in the back, so when you activate the watch, you pull the pin out. There’s also a little metal plaque in the back that you can engrave, so I asked Urwerk for a favour: I asked for two plaques. It is fixed onto the caseback of the watch with screws, but the pin, when removed, starts the counter which delineates the amount of time the piece has been running, as it is manually wound. It tells you when a service is required after a specified amount of time that the watch has been operating. The first one has our initials: W, M, P and F for our names [ Winston, Martin, Piano— the founder of a luxury watches and men’s accessories brand called Lavish Attic in Hong Kong—and Felix], but I also made a little acronym out of it: watches make people fonder. The second plaque is just my last name and that’s for when I’m ready to pass it on. I will change it [the friendship acronym plaque] over and pass it to one of my children. But the significance is about the people. So for me, this is a friendship piece, but obviously when I pass it to my children, [it will] have our family name and [I will] tell them about the story of friendship.





