60 years in orbit: Why the OMEGA Speedmaster is still the ultimate gentleman’s watch

President John F. Kennedy moon's speech at Rice University in 1962.

It All Began With a JFK Dream and a Deke Directive

The story begins, as all great space stories do, with a challenge from President John F. Kennedy. “ We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win, and the others, too” he boldly declared at Rice University in 1962, setting off a national scramble to figure out how, exactly, one does that.

In the background, a group of handsome, pressure-tested astronauts - the Mercury Seven - asked NASA’s Director of Flight Crew Operations, Deke Slayton, for a wristwatch that could survive space. A watch, mind you, not to pair with cufflinks or impress fellow pilots, but to keep time when digital instruments inevitably threw a tantrum.

NASA’s own James Ragan conducted rigorous tests.

Courtesy of NASA

The Test Gauntlet: NASA Doesn’t Do Gentle

When NASA says they want a “high-quality chronograph,” they mean “something that can take a slap from a rocket, a vacuum, and a humid Florida summer… and still tick.”

So, in 1964, Slayton sent letters to various watchmakers. Four replied. Three made the cut. And only one survived.

OMEGA sent in the Speedmaster ST 105.003 - yes, the exact same model you could buy in-store, no fancy tweaks. Then came the tests, engineered by NASA’s own James Ragan, a man so meticulous he probably alphabetized his breakfast cereal.

OMEGA’s Speedmaster was baked at 93°C, frozen at -18°C, and subjected to extreme vacuums, shocks, vibrations, high-decibel noise, and brutal acceleration. Imagine being tossed into a blender with a volcano and a snowstorm - and still looking good.

The other contenders melted, cracked, or disintegrated under pressure. One watch’s second hand warped like a Salvador Dalí painting. Another's crystal popped off like a champagne cork.

Only the Speedmaster survived all 11 torturous tests.

1965 Speedmaster Certificate.

Courtesy of NASA

Final Exam: The Astronauts Themselves

But wait - NASA had one final test: human approval. Ragan handed over the watches to the astronauts, who didn’t know which had passed the lab gauntlet. Unanimously, they chose the Speedmaster. The reason? It was readable, reliable, accurate, and most importantly - easy to operate in a bulky space suit. Gentlemen know the value of a well-designed dial, even in zero gravity.

Liftoff: Gemini, Apollo, and Beyond

On March 23, 1965 - just three weeks after the official qualification - the Speedmaster went into space for the first time with Gus Grissom and John Young aboard Gemini 3. The only modification? A Velcro strap to wrap around those oh-so-chic space suits.

Then came the big leagues. The first American spacewalk (thank you, Ed White). Apollo 8's first glimpse of the moon’s dark side. And, of course, that moment in 1969 when Buzz Aldrin moonwalked - with an OMEGA Speedmaster on his wrist.

Sixty Years Later: A Toast to Timeless Grit

Six decades since its NASA anointment, the Speedmaster has become more than a timepiece. It’s a symbol of engineering elegance and a badge of audacious spirit. In an age of smartwatches and battery anxiety, the Speedmaster reminds us that there’s nothing like a finely tuned, manually wound piece of mechanical poetry.

OMEGA is now celebrating 60 years of being space-certified - not with confetti, but with reverence for the hopeful, daring spirit of the 1960s, and with a quiet nod to the moonwalker within every gentleman.

So, next time someone asks why a gentleman would wear a Speedmaster, you look them in the eye and say: “Because if it’s good enough for the moon, it’s good enough for martinis at The Ritz.”