The history of the Girard-Perregaux Laureato, an innovative 70s icon that continues to evolve today
Jason LeeI’ve long admired Girard‑Perregaux. As a former owner of the Laureato Skeleton, I can vouch for the quality of its casework and movement finishing—even though, on the secondary market, the model often trades significantly less than integrated‑bracelet peers such as Patek Philippe’s Nautilus and Audemars Piguet’s Royal Oak. I eventually moved mine on to explore other watches, but the Laureato I knew remains, even under a loupe, a piece that stands more than comfortably alongside those benchmarks on workmanship.
The Laureato belongs to a small cohort of integrated‑bracelet watches that reshaped luxury watch design in the 1970s. What sets it apart is not only the profile—an octagonal bezel on a circular base above a tonneau mid‑case—but the way it mirrors the priorities of the Maison that built it. Girard‑Perregaux has long treated the movement as a focus of design, a philosophy rooted in the 19th‑century Three Bridges and sustained by an unusually integrated manufacture culture. Let’s dive into the Laureato’s (and Girard-Perregaux’s) history to explain why the Laureato remains so compelling to this day.
A manufacture identity that predates the 1970s
In 1867, Constant Girard presented a tourbillon whose barrel, gear train and balance were aligned beneath three parallel bridges. That construction made the movement legible as a composition rather than a hidden set of parts. The bridges ceased to be anonymous retainers and became a visual structure—symmetry and rhythm made manifest. “La Esmeralda,” a later expression of the idea, won a gold medal at the 1889 Paris Universal Exhibition, and Girard‑Perregaux sought protection for the architecture with the United States Patent Office in 1884. Importantly, this approach was distinct from skeletonisation. Skeletonisation removes material to reveal an existing layout; Constant Girard’s decision was to draw the layout itself to be seen.
That movement‑first posture also reflects how the company organised itself. Jean‑François Bautte’s enterprise, founded in 1791, gathered design, case‑making, dial‑making and calibre production under one roof at a scale unusual for the time. In a Swiss industry built largely on établissage—coordinating specialists through a network of suppliers—Bautte’s integrated model stood apart. The stance persisted into the modern era: automatic bases such as the GP3100 (1994) and GP3300 (1998) are examples of long‑lived architectures intended to endure rather than turn over quickly, with the GP3300 powering Laureato references from 2003. Girard‑Perregaux has also supplied movements to other high‑end names, underscoring a dual identity as both a complete watchmaker and a movement manufacturer.
More recent milestones—the high‑frequency 36,000 vph movement of 1965 and the Constant Escapement of 2013—play little role in the Laureato’s day‑to‑day design, but they matter as context. They show a house that treats regulating organs, power delivery and efficiency as design questions, not merely technical ones. That combination of aesthetics and mechanism runs through Girard‑Perregaux’s communications and frames how the Laureato is narrated today.
The 1970s: design climate and authorship
By the early 1970s, sharper geometries and industrial materials had migrated from architecture and transport into everyday objects. In watches, the integrated bracelet became both a design tool and a symbol of modernity. Against that backdrop, Girard‑Perregaux places the Laureato squarely within the movement, while stressing a point of difference: the design was developed in‑house. The brand rejects a long‑circulating attribution to the Italian architect Adolfo Natalini and instead credits an unnamed internal designer. That in‑house authorship is central to the story, underpinning the claim that the Laureato was both designed and powered by the same manufacture from the outset.
What emerged in 1975 combined three geometries: an octagonal bezel set on a circular base, both sitting on a tonneau‑shaped case. The bracelet was integral to the design—visually and ergonomically—so the head and links read as one object. A clous de Paris hobnail dial, baton hands and baton markers formed the standard face. The language was architectural but softened, and the watch was conceived to be worn rather than merely displayed.
Finishing followed the same principle. Steel was treated “like a precious metal,” with alternating brushed and polished planes. Early prototypes are said to have been made in white gold to ease development before steel production began—one reason why, counterintuitively, early steel Laureatos could cost more than some gold watches. The essential point is not price but approach: surface transitions were treated as core design, not afterthoughts.
The other defining decision was the movement. Girard‑Perregaux had anchored the Laureato in its independent quartz programme. The company had established a dedicated electronic research unit in 1966 and, in 1971, introduced the GP350, a quartz calibre running at 32,768 Hz—the frequency that became the universal standard for quartz watches. Two years after the Laureato’s launch, Girard‑Perregaux accounted for a notably large share of quartz patents recorded with the Swiss chronometry authority. The first Laureato used a refined, smaller quartz movement and was COSC‑certified. In short, the model answered two simultaneous demands of the era: a new integrated look and high accuracy.
The name fits the brief. Laureato is Italian for “graduate,” from the Latin laureatus (“crowned with laurels”). Launched in Italy, the watch carried connotations of successful completion—apt for a chronometer‑certified quartz piece introduced in the middle of a technological transition.
1980s: functions and bracelet refinement
Once the codes were set, the Laureato evolved through adjustment rather than wholesale reinvention. The second generation, arriving around 1984, focused on practical updates. Interlinks were added to the bracelet, and link width was reduced—changes that helped fine‑tune fit for a watch that was never explicitly gendered. The period also saw calendar functions arrive, a way of presenting quartz capability without disturbing the integrated‑bracelet aesthetic. The outline remained intact; the details did the work.
1990s: the return of mechanics
By the mid‑1990s, interest in mechanical watchmaking had recovered. In 1995, Girard‑Perregaux introduced the first automatic Laureato. Bracelet morphology shifted in parallel: links took on a slight conical profile that echoed the hobnail dial texture, reinforcing the sense that case and dial belong to the same object. In the background, the GP3100 (1994) and GP3300 (1998) appeared as slim, reliable automatic bases; from 2003, the GP3300 powered multiple Laureato references.
Late‑1990s to 2010s: Bridges and a sportier branch
The movement architecture that began in the 19th century re‑entered the Laureato at the end of the 1990s in high‑expression form. Tourbillons with gold bridges (1997), sapphire bridges (2006) and spinel bridges (2012) brought the Three Bridges language back into the integrated case. It is clear that Girard‑Perregaux wanted the Laureato’s case architecture to speak to visible movement architecture. Around the same time, the Evo3 generation pushed the platform towards a more overtly sporting stance—bolder mass and a stronger sense of heft—consistent with broader tastes of the 2000s. A re‑clarification followed in 2016, when the manufacture’s 225th anniversary prompted a return to crisper, more balanced lines.
From 2017 onward, the Laureato has been treated less as a single reference and more as a platform, spanning multiple sizes and metals and accommodating occasional high‑complication branches.
Finishing and manufacture practice as part of the identity
Finishing is a quiet through‑line in the Laureato’s story. The historical note about early white‑gold prototypes (to ease machining) and the claim that some steel models cost more than gold make sense in this context: the challenge lies in alternating finishes and managing transitions cleanly across a complex case and bracelet.
The same emphasis appears on the movement side. Laureato automatic calibres typically show a broad palette of decoration—straight and circular côtes de Genève, perlage, bevels, snailing, satin finishes, mirror‑polished screws and crisp engravings—with the caveat that many operations remain hand‑executed. The point is not that such finishes are unique to Girard‑Perregaux, but that the manufacture treats them as an expected part of the Laureato, regardless of power source. That choice dovetails with the brand’s wider self‑image as a house where design and movement are inseparable.
Closing thoughts
The Laureato’s history is one of coherence: Girard‑Perregaux’s 19th‑century decision to treat the movement as visible architecture established an inside‑out design mindset that still underpins the watch. That heritage, paired with a long‑standing integrated manufacture able to align case, bracelet and calibre, is why the octagon‑on‑circle geometry reads as a single, thought‑through object rather than a style applied to a case.
Set against the 1970s turn to integrated bracelets, the Laureato distinguished itself with in‑house authorship, a quartz‑chronometer heart developed through GP’s independent 32,768 Hz programme, and finishing that treated steel like a precious metal. Across later updates—bracelet refinements in the 1980s, the first automatic in 1995, and proportion resets since—the outline has stayed legible, which is why the model remains immediately recognisable without raising its voice.